When Our Worlds Stand Still (Our Worlds #3)(4)

“It’s safe to assume I’ll always have a soft spot for you somewhere in this cold heart of mine.” Mark looks at me with those familiar soft eyes, reminding me why I found such comfort when I was near him all that time ago. He was my savior without me even knowing. Still, my biggest regret is allowing him to fall for me, knowing I’d never be able to give much back in return.

Bea catches my attention. Her wide eyes and facial expression beg me for an explanation. To put her out of her misery, I wave her over.

“Before I have to run, I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

“Oh, God, Kennedy. Please don’t tell me you’re trying to hook me up with someone.”

“Well, since Facebook told me Skylar and you broke up a while ago …”

“I was going to call.”

I force a smile and laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Just like I was going to call.” I wave him off. “She’s been a good friend to me, so please be nice. Plaster on the Mark Whitmore charm, and smile that smile of yours, and she will die a happy girl, I promise.” I sense Bea’s giddiness without turning to see her. “Bea, this is Mark, a friend of mine from high school.” I jab a finger in his taut chest. “Mark, this is Bea, one of my friends from,” I catch my mistake and correct myself, “from here. We work together.” It is not my place to explain how Bea and I know each other.

My old life shakes hands with my new. Bea leans into Mark as he whispers in her ear. My eyes drop to their joined hands, and I smile.

Bea’s gorgeous, with her rambunctious, curly hair and stifling blue eyes. She’s difficult to look away from, so I’m not shocked when Mark smirks over her shoulder. Call me Cupid, because my work here is done.

Except for Violet, Amanda, and Dan, I keep my two worlds as separate as possible. Because of my episodes, and Jackie suggesting additional help here in the city, I stumbled upon Bea at the hardest point in her life. Through our support group, she’s learned the details of my past. Though she claims I saved her, in reality, some days she’s the one saving me.

“I’m going to check on my tables I’ve kept waiting,” I say, but neither stops their conversation. A giggle erupts from my mouth.

“What’s so funny?” Kate asks, plugging an order into the computer.

I point to Mark and Bea. “That.”

She stares in his direction with the same excited expression Bea had earlier. “Who’s the hottie?”

“Remember the boy Alex and Bea were arguing about?” I nod my chin in their direction. “I went to high school with him.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Kate clutches at her chest. “If I’d known he was that hot, I would’ve put my hat in the ring.” She reaches across the counter for a pen. “Alex is going to be livid.”

I shrug. “Well, don’t tell her I introduced them. Let’s pretend it’s happenstance.”

Kate drags her finger in an X over her chest. “I won’t tell a soul.”

Alex slams her notepad on the countertop, startling us. “Won’t tell a soul, what?”

I take a deep breath and release it. “Jesus, you scared me.”

“Kennedy introduced Bea to the little man candy you two were fighting over earlier,” Kate blurts and walks away.

“Thanks a lot, Kate,” I shout.

Without looking back, she waves over her shoulder.

Alex’s neck nearly snaps when she jerks around to where Bea is hiding. What she finds is her little sister wearing a breathtaking smile, and a laugh dancing from her lips. The hard expression on her face softens when Bea leans into Mark and rests her hand on his chest. I know immediately, the two of them could change each other’s worlds, if only they allow it.

“Kennedy, do you think you’d like to talk today?” Dr. Wilson asks. “You’ve barely said a word the past two weeks.”

A door slams, and a girl with crazy, brown, curly hair rushes inside. Her cheeks are flushed with embarrassment. As she walks up, she apologizes to Dr. Wilson and takes a seat directly across from me. When she’s settled, her gaze skims over the group. Clenched fists jerk in her lap, and her eyes carry a mountain of fears I’m all-too-familiar with.

“I’m Kennedy.” My eyes scan each of their faces. Faces I’ve examined the past few weeks. They’ve shared their deepest nightmares, but none of them know mine. Doesn’t necessarily seem fair. “I was in high school. The shy girl who somehow found herself wrapped up in the popular world. We went on a few dates, hung out quite a bit. He attacked me one night, but someone saved me.” Graham’s face hovers in my mind, and I feel the familiar prickling behind my eyelids. “I never reported it, and not a single day goes by where I don’t regret that decision because he attacked me again. This time, no one was there to save me.” The memory has tears washing over my cheeks.

“How do you get past it?” The curly haired brunette speaks up. When I peer up from my lap, her eyes beg for an answer.

“You don’t. You learn to get up every morning. You don’t allow yourself to become what happened to you. For me, the hardest part of it all is knowing my attacker. I held his hand. I kissed him.”

She nods in understanding and frowns down at her lap. The remainder of the session, I wonder if she’ll open up to us, a group of strangers. A few times, her lips open and close as though she’s about to speak. Perhaps she’s afraid. Lord knows, I’ve been, but the moment she walked into the room, this need to protect her, to tell her my story because hers might be the same, won’t leave me alone.