Fighting Fate (Fighting #7)(22)
“Later.” He spins on his black Converse high top and is gone.
“I’m sorry about that,” I whisper and reach into my backpack to fish out some money. “I told him I’m not into PDA, but he’s not a very good listener.” I laugh uncomfortably and fumble with a few dollars, still avoiding Killian’s eyes. “It’s awkward and I don’t know…” Why isn’t he talking? Did he walk away and I’ve been here talking to myself?
I risk a glance and immediately regret it. His dark eyebrows are set low, and he’s gripping a water bottle so tight the thin plastic caves beneath the pads of his fingers.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
I don’t even know why, but it had to be said.
He blinks a few times and then sucks in a shaky breath. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
I don’t. But then…why do I feel like I do? I’d hate to see Killian kissing his girlfriend, if he ever had one. I mean I wouldn’t hate it, but it’s always awkward seeing people make out.
I lick my lips and shift on my feet, vacillating between doing the moonwalk or giving myself a wedgie just to erase the unease in his eyes.
“You getting something to eat?” He nods to the money in my hand.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll grab a table.” He moves past me without waiting for my answer.
Not that I would’ve said no. And he knows my schedule well enough to know I have thirty minutes before my next class.
I grab a premade turkey sandwich and a grape Powerade Zero then meet Killian outside where he’s sitting at a table that’s half shade half sun. I grin and shuffle over to him, dropping my stuff on the table just as he takes a bite of his sandwich.
He chews then motions to the other chair. “If you sit there, you’ll get both.”
I gauge the sun and shade then agree and move my things to the chair closest to him. “You think I’m weird that I like to sit half in the sun, don’t you?”
He takes a pull off his water bottle. “You’ve always been like that.”
“Right.” I unwrap my sandwich. “Always weird.”
For the first time since I walked into the café, he grins. “Maybe a little.”
“I knew it.” I take a bite of my food and smile right back at him. Being with him is always so easy.
“But it’s not the sun-shade thing that makes you weird. It’s the air-conditioning thing.”
I roll my eyes.
“You know blasting the cold air in your car with the windows down kinda defeats the purpose.”
“I disagree. It’s air conditioning. I’m conditioning the air around me, so if it’s cold outside, I like to feel the brisk air on my face, but I don’t like being cold so—”
“You turn on the heat.”
I shrug. “Right. And vice versa.”
“Weird,” he mumbles before taking another bite of his food.
“So how’s work?”
He frowns. “Why?”
“What do you mean why? I’m catching up on your life, making conversation. You know, the thing friends do when they hang out.”
He blinks then goes back to focusing on his sandwich. “It’s good.”
“That’s it? Just good?”
“Great… I guess.” Finished with his food, he balls up his trash and moves it to the edge of the table. “You never did tell me how your mom took the piercing.”
“Good enough, I mean she kinda freaked at first, but then once it sunk in she was cool. It took a little longer for Blake to come to terms with it.”
“Yeah, I know.”
My eyes dart to his. “What…did he…oh my God, Kill, did he give you shit about it?”
He shrugs one shoulder and drops back into his seat. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
I bury my face into my hands, completely humiliated. “Oh God, that’s so embarrassing. I’m sorry.”
“Like I said, I handled it.”
“I didn’t mean to tell him you were there. It just slipped out, and then he went off about why you didn’t stop me, and I said it’s none of his f*cking business—”
“You said that?” His eyebrows rise and a hint of a grin ticks his lips.
“Not exactly, but basically.”
His grin widens, and a deep chuckle filters from his lips. “I was gonna say I would’ve paid to have been there when you told Blake it’s none of his f*cking business.”
I laugh and agree. That would not have gone over well.
He smiles sadly. “From the looks of it, I guess Cliff approves.”
I study him and a tension strings tight between us, as if a million unspoken words hover in the space between our lips. Mesmerized by the depth of his stare, I’m incapable of looking away.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He nods and breaks eye contact. “That’s good, Ax. I’m… I’m happy for you.”
An odd feeling comes over me at those words, because I’m always desperate for his approval, but for the first time, in this case, I don’t want it.
Seven
Killian