Sweet Evil (The Sweet Trilogy #1)(60)

I’d asked Kaidan if he’d been listening to our conversation while he waited at the prison. He admitted that when he returned that afternoon, he listened for a moment to make sure I was okay, but that was it, and I believed him.

I told him every detail of what my father said. He had been a quiet listener, not saying much. Not even I told you so about the final part.

The clothes were finally dry, so I stood there pulling them out one at a time, folding them.

I jumped and let out an embarrassing squeak when two hands came around my waist.

“Just me, luv,” he said, close to my ear. “Aren’t you the picture of domestication? Do you cook as well?”

I put both hands on the edge of the dryer to steady myself. The machine was still hot.

“Kai,” I said. I could feel his nose and mouth move over my hair. Why was he doing this to me? Telling me not to romanticize him, and then nuzzling me from behind? “You shouldn’t...”

My knees were shaking. I was so confused. What I really wanted to do was close my eyes and lean back into him, pretending for just a moment that we were together. But I pressed on from a place inside of me that was stronger than my body. I couldn’t be one of his momentary girls.

“Unless you’re going to be my boyfriend, you shouldn’t touch me like this.”

He did not pull away, repulsed, as I had expected. Instead, he spoke into my hair.

“The Neph are not permitted to be in relationships, especially not with one another.”

“Nobody has to know,” I said into the air, closing my eyes. “Just us.”

“It can never happen.” His rejection was gentle, but firm.

Again, from the place of strength, I found myself taking his hands, untwining them from around my waist, and moving them away from me. A second later he was gone. Hot and then cold, over and over.

It can never happen. I had to lean on the dryer now, breathing deeply, feeling the heat. For once my eyes stayed dry.

I had known in my heart there was no chance. Of course there wasn’t. He hadn’t said he did not want to be with me, only that it wasn’t allowed. I tried to cling to that, but I knew I shouldn’t. Whatever the reason, there would never be an “us,” not even in secret, certainly not exclusive, and the sooner I got my head wrapped around that fact, the better.

I piled the clothes into my arms and headed to the room.

Kaidan was watching TV on his bed. He didn’t look at me. I set his clothes on the dresser and packed mine back into my bag. I saw the red T-shirt in the bottom of my bag, the one he’d loaned me at his house. I went and placed it on his pile. I thought about what to do next. My book bag sat on the floor with all my summer reading for AP English that Patti had insisted I bring. I picked it up and lugged it to my bed.

“What are you getting into?” he asked.

I guessed he was going to act like nothing happened. Well, two could play that.

“English,” I said, tossing a book of American poetry and my notebook on the bed in front of me. Kaidan turned off the TV and came over, laying his long self across my bed, taking the book, and opening it.

The nerve.

And then it dawned on me painfully. Maybe he wasn’t pretending it was no big deal. Maybe it really wasn’t a big deal to him at all. And why would it be? Many girls, far more enticing than me, had no doubt asked him to commit, and he’d rejected each one. Why did I think I was any different? Because we shared a secret about our parents and some freaky senses?

I’ve heard the saying that you can’t miss what you never had. Only I did. The disappointment hurt.

I found an unoccupied corner at the top of my bed and sat with my legs crossed. My head was killing me. I pulled the braid over my shoulder and tugged off the rubber band. I untwined the strands of hair and ran my nails along my sore scalp. I combed my fingers through the deep waves made by the braid to get out any tangles. Kaidan made a strange guttural sound and then coughed. When I looked over he was staring hard at the book. His eyes moved over me and went back to the book again. What was his problem?

I felt pouty, and I was glad I knew how to hide my colors now. I opened my notebook with a dramatic whoosh and yanked out the top worksheet. The first question made me grumble.

“What’s the matter?” Kaidan asked.

“I can’t stand these kinds of questions. ‘What is the author’s opinion of death, as seen in lines eighteen to twenty-one?’ It’s a poem, for crying out loud! The beauty of poetry is that it can mean different things to different people at different times. But you know they’re expecting one specific, so-called correct answer, and any other thoughtful response will be counted off. It’s wrong to dissect poetry like this!”

I threw down the paper in heated passion and felt his hand cup my cheek. I hadn’t even noticed him sitting up during my tirade. My heart was already pumping hard when I turned my face to him. Kaidan’s eyes were on fire, and his sweet, earthy scent slammed my senses.

“Seriously,” I whispered, unable to look away. “You’re doing that bedroom-eyes thing again.”

We met halfway. His lips were as hot as his eyes, sending a shock wave through me. His tender mouth opened mine and I could sense the red of passion, like silk, circling us, pulling us closer. I was aware of a halfhearted battle within me, but I clambered nearer, pushing the notebook and papers to the floor.