Denial (Careless Whispers #1)(55)

She sits down and studies me. “You look tired, sweetie. Did the commotion wake you up last night?”

I hesitate, pretty sure she knows I wouldn’t have known about the alarm if I wasn’t with Kayden. “I heard something about it. It was Giada, right?”

“Yes. She’s a troubled girl. She’s horribly angry at Kayden, when he’s done nothing but help her. She’s missing a female role model and I’m just too old to connect with her. I was hoping you might try?”

I’m shocked at this request, since I am as new to the castle as I am to their lives, and will easily be gone before I’ve ever become settled—which tells me she must be desperate to help Giada. “Of course I will. How is she today?”

Disapproval etches her brow. “Hungover. She was throwing up at the doorstep last night. She couldn’t remember the passcode to our tower, but she’s known it for years. Or rather, she claimed it didn’t work. When she finally stopped throwing a fit, she was embarrassed and crying. Poor child is just lost.”

“I guess she’s in bed today?”

“Adriel made her get up and work in the store. Maybe you could stop by and visit with her.”

“Of course. I’ll be happy to. I can stop by the store after I eat and meet her.”

“Well, today might be bad. She’s pretty foul.”

I laugh. “You should see me when I have PMS.”

She chuckles. “Warning noted.”

“You’ll be glad I remember that about myself.”

We share a laugh and she glances at a square, black-rimmed clock on the wall. “Oh, goodness. I’m sorry, but I have to head out to an appointment. I’ll check on you this afternoon. But before I leave, Kayden left something for you.”

A mix of curiosity and more than a little anxiety rushes through me. What could he have left me? She pushes to her feet and walks to the cabinet by the sink, returning with a box she sets on the table. “Here you go.” She glances at my plate. “I’m keeping you from eating.”

“No. You’re the reason I get to eat such great food.”

“My pleasure.” She hesitates. “I think it will be good for Giada to have you here, but it’s even better for Kayden. I’ve been worried about him since . . .” She waves it off. “It’s been a long time since any one woman has held his attention.”

This news both pleases me and confirms my worries: I’ve torn down walls he simply doesn’t want down. I downplay her observation. “I was mugged and left with no resources. He kind of inherited me.”

Her lips curve. “Oh now, missy. Don’t discount what’s happening between you two. Kayden would have found another way of helping you if he didn’t want you here, and I see how he looks at you. I’ll see you soon.” She breezes out of the room, and I am left thinking of my exchange with Kayden. Do you want me here? I’d asked, and his reply had been, Too much.

I shove aside my plate and grab the brown box Kayden has left for me. Flipping open the lid, I find a separate white box with an Apple logo on top, plus a note:

I asked for bubble proof but they tell me that feature is still in development.

I laugh and keep reading.

You’ll find the following numbers programmed into the phone:

Me

Matteo

Nathan

Marabella

Adriel

These people are my people, so now they’re yours.

—Kayden

My chest tightens on that last phrase, which implies I’m staying in his life. Considering I’m running for my life, which makes a person think about her end of days, he’s given me all the encouragement I need. I open the box and remove the phone, quickly finding Kayden’s number and punching the “call” button. He answers on the second ring.

“Ella?”

His voice does funny things to my stomach. “Hi,” I say, sounding a bit breathless.

“Is something wrong?”

I feel like we’re replaying the conversation from outside his bedroom last night. “No. I just . . . When are you coming back?”

“Why?”

“Because . . . the David thing. He didn’t mean anything to me. I don’t know why I was with him, but I think . . . I was lost, and I feel found with you. I know that’s crazy, because we just met—but you said ‘everything or nothing,’ and we are not nothing. But we can’t get to everything if you shut me out.”

Silence crackles on the line. I wait. And wait. And I’m going crazy when he finally says, “There are things about me you don’t know.”

“You said that already, and there are things about me we both don’t know. What I do know, though, is that I need you, and I’m not alone in this feeling. I know I’m not.”

“Ella—”

“Please don’t shut me out.”

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

I do not miss the way he phrases this sentence to avoid the word home, when he’s lived here since he was ten. “Okay,” I whisper, feeling defeated.

His voice softens. “We’ll talk when I get there.”

“Okay,” I say again.

“Ella. Sweetheart.”

“Just come back.” I end the call before he can say something else I don’t want to hear.