The Lucky One(98)

“Sorry for barging in like this,” he said with exaggerated courtesy, “but we need to talk.”

“What are you doing here? You can’t just walk in here—”

“Cooking dinner, huh?” he said. “I remember when you used to cook dinner for me.”

“Get out, Keith,” she said, her voice hoarse.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, looking at her as if she didn’t know what she was talking about. He motioned toward the chair. “Why don’t you sit down?”

“I don’t want to sit down,” she whispered, hating how frightened she sounded. “I want you to leave.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he said. He smiled again, but it was no better than his first attempt. There was a vacancy in his gaze she’d never seen before. She felt her heartbeat speed up.

“Would you get me a beer, please?” he asked. “It’s been a long day at the office, if you know what I mean.”

She swallowed, afraid to look away. “I don’t have any more.”

He nodded, glancing around the kitchen before fixing his gaze on her again. He pointed. “I see one right there, by the stove. There’s got to be another one somewhere. You mind if I check the fridge?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He walked to the fridge and opened it before reaching for the bottom shelf. He came out with a bottle. “Found one,” he crowed. He looked at her as he opened it. “Guess you were mistaken, huh?” He took a long pull and winked.

She forced herself to stay calm. “What do you want, Keith?”

“Oh, you know. Just wanted to catch up. See if there’s anything I should know.”

“Know about what?” she asked, her stomach clenching.

“About Thigh-bolt,” he said.

She ignored the mangling of the name. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He took another drink, swishing the beer in his mouth as he nodded. He swallowed, the sound loud. “Driving over here, that’s what I thought you might say,” he said, sounding almost conversational. “But I know you better than you think I do.” He gestured at her with his beer bottle. “There was a time there when I wasn’t sure I knew you at all, but that’s changed in the past few years. Raising a son together really bonds a couple, don’t you think?”

She didn’t respond.

“That’s why I’m here, you know. Because of Ben. Because I want the best for him, and right now, I’m not sure you’re thinking all that clearly about things.”

He stepped toward her and took another long pull of his beer. The bottle was already nearly empty. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before going on. “See, I’ve been thinking that you and I haven’t always had the best relationship. That’s not good for Ben. He needs to know that we still get along. That we’re still close friends. Don’t you think that’s an important lesson to teach him? That even if your parents get divorced, they can still be friends?”

She didn’t like the sound of his rambling monologue, but she was afraid to cut him off. This was a different Keith Clayton . . . a dangerous one.

“I think it’s important,” he continued. He took another step toward her. “In fact, I can’t think of anything more important.”

“Just stay back,” she said.

“I don’t think so,” he scolded her. “You haven’t been thinking all that clearly in the last couple of days.”

As he neared, she slid farther down the bank of counters, trying to keep him in front of her.

“Don’t come any closer. I’m warning you.”

He kept closing the distance, staring at her with those vacant eyes. “See what I mean? You’re acting like you think I’m going to hurt you. I’d never, ever hurt you. You should know that about me.”

“You’re crazy.”

“No, I’m not. A little angry, maybe, but not crazy.” When he smiled again, the vacancy in his eyes vanished and her stomach did a flip-flop. He went on. “Do you know that even after all you’ve put me through, I still think you’re beautiful?”

She didn’t like where this was going. Not at all. By then, she’d reached the corner, with noplace left to go. “Just leave, okay? Ben’s upstairs and Nana will be back in a minute—”

“All I want is a kiss. Is that such a big deal?”

She wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. “A kiss?” she parroted.

“For now,” he said. “That’s all. Just for old times’ sake. Then I’ll go. I’ll walk right out of here. I promise.”

“I’m not going to kiss you,” she said, stunned.

By then, he was standing before her. “You will,” he said. “And you’ll do more, later. But for now, a kiss is fine.”

She arched her back, trying to keep away. “Please, Keith. I don’t want this. I don’t want to kiss you.”

“You’ll get over it,” he said. When he leaned in, she turned away. He took hold of her upper arms. As he moved his lips toward her ear, Beth could feel her heart begin to hammer.

“You’re hurting me!” she gasped.

“Here’s the thing, Beth,” he whispered. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck. “If you don’t want to kiss me, that’s fine. I’ll accept that. But I’ve decided that I want to be a little more than friends.”