Say You Still Love Me(89)

I push Kyle’s shirtsleeve up, over his muscular bicep, revealing the rocky cliff and the girl who stands at the edge, her long, dark brown hair billowing around her as if caught in a gust of wind, the teal string bikini showing off cartoonish curves.

My heart skips a beat and then begins racing.

“Is that—?” I cut myself off, not wanting to presume too much. But when I meet Kyle’s eyes—the questioning gaze in them—and hear his sharp intake of breath, I know without a doubt the answer.

His jaw tenses, but then he smiles. “Favorite place in the world. Favorite summer.” His eyes flash downward to my lips. “Favorite girl.”

My heart is pounding, when a beep sounds and the exterior door opens. The night-shift security guard strolls in, throwing a hand up at Kyle.

He removes his arm from my lap and glances at his watch, frowning. “That went fast.”

“It did.” Too fast. My stomach clenches with disappointment. I could sit here talking to Kyle until the sun rises. I still have so many questions. Some, I think I’ve already found the answers to.

He crumples our fast-food wrappers into a ball and, rolling backward in his chair, tosses everything into the trash can. “Thanks for dinner. And the company.”

“My pleasure.” I tuck my feet into my heels and collect my purse.

“Do you need a car?” He reaches for the phone.

“I’ll walk. I’m only three blocks away.”

He stands and stretches as he watches his replacement approach. “I’ll walk you, then. If you’re okay with that.” He peers down at me, and again I see glimmers of the boy I once knew in the man before me—the longing, the anticipation.

“Yes.” A simple answer for so many questions he could ask me right now.

Do you still want me?

Do you still think about me?

Are you willing to see if this can work?

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

The arriving security guard eyes me curiously as he comes around the desk. “Good evening, Miss Calloway.”

“Hello . . . Carl,” I read off his name tag. I’ve seen him here, the odd weekend that I’ve come in, but I’ve never exchanged anything beyond a smile and polite greeting. “Hope you have an uneventful night.”

Kyle gives him a quick update and then, collecting his jacket and a navy backpack stowed in a deep drawer, he leads me out of the building and into the bustling night.

The Calloway building is on the north side of King Street, a main artery for downtown Lennox. It’s busier during the week, but even now, there is a steady stream of headlights and frequent blasts of horns.

“Which way?”

I briefly consider leading us in the wrong direction just so we have to make a large loop around the block, to give me more time with him, but decide against it. My feet can’t handle that. “Right.” We fall into step side-by-side at a leisurely pace.

The temperature has dropped, leaving a light chill in the air. I curl my arms around my body. Kyle notices and wordlessly drapes his jacket over my shoulders, his fingers skating over my bare skin, sending electric currents through me.

“Thanks,” I murmur, pulling it close around me. I can smell his cologne lingering faintly on the material. “So, your brother Jeremy . . . I remember you being worried about him. He seems like he turned out okay.”

Kyle kicks a loose stone with his boot, sending it skittering along the sidewalk. “I was on him a lot, especially when he got in with a shitty crowd, right when we got to San Diego. But he smartened up fast, graduated high school, and did almost five years apprenticing under an electrician until he could write his exams. Now he’s out on his own, makin’ way more money than me.”

“That’s great. Well, not the money part.”

“It’s okay. I make him pay more rent.”

“You do not.”

Kyle grins. “Nah. I don’t. I tried, but he’s too smart to fall for that.”

“And you? Ever end up changing your mind about college?”

He shrugs. “Never worked hard enough in high school to get the grades. Luckily I didn’t need college for this job. I started at Rikell as soon as I graduated. Been with them over twelve years now.”

“Do you like it?”

He pauses, as if to consider my question. “No stress. It’s not hard and it pays the bills. I get to walk around and talk to people, keep things in order. Better than sitting at a desk all day. No offense,” he adds after a moment.

I laugh. “None taken.” If there’s one thing I’ve never heard anyone describe my job as, it’s “sitting at a desk all day.” “Have you ever thought about joining the police force?”

“Thought about it. Briefly.”

“But . . .”

“I guess I just figured they’d do a background check and decide I was too much of a risk.”

“That’s not true. You should look into it.”

“I’ve had more than my fill of the legal system, anyway.”

“Fair enough.” I hesitate, my gaze cutting to his sleek form. “Though you’d look good in that uniform.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Just stating important facts.”

I get a lopsided smile in return, his eyes lingering on me a moment. “What about you? Ever thought about doing anything besides working for your father?”