Until Harry(37)

I opened the door, and through my sore eyes, I saw a very familiar face instead of a strange one. “Kale,” I said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

His lip twitched as his eyes flicked down to my pyjamas before they resettled on my own. “Your mum said you came home because you couldn’t deal with everyone in the pub, so I came here to keep you company. I don’t want you to be alone right now.”

I whispered, “But I don’t deserve your comfort, I don’t deserve anything from you.”

Kale’s brow furrowed. “Why not?”

I shrugged. “Because I made everything horribly complicated for you, then just left and never spoke to you for six years.”

Kale’s lips thinned to a line. “Let’s get you into the sitting room, and we can watch a film or something. I’m not talking about this today, tomorrow or the next day. When things aren’t so fresh about your uncle’s passing, we will talk, but for now let’s just hang out.”

I widened my eyes for a moment but quickly nodded, turned and went into the sitting room while Kale shut the front door. I was glad for the few seconds alone because I felt like I was about to freak out. While I knew Kale and I would have to talk – and talk about everything – hearing him say it out loud sent me into a bit of a tailspin.

I dreaded to think how that conversation was going to go.

“Are you okay?” asked Kale, his voice startling me.

I numbly nodded. “I’m great.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You can’t lie to me, Lane.”

Isn’t that the bloody truth?

“Okay, I’m not great, but I’m not in bits either – not right now anyway.”

He gestured to the sofa. “Sit down and turn on something for us to watch. I’ll be back in a minute.”

I blinked. “Where are you going?”

“To make us tea, obviously.”

I was surprised when I snorted, and even more surprised when it brought a bright smile to Kale’s face. “A cup of tea would be perfect.”

He chuckled and turned on his heel. “Three sugars and loads of milk. On it.”

I felt my jaw drop open. “You remember how I take my tea?” I asked, my shock laced throughout my tone.

He stopped by the sitting room door and, without turning around, he said, “You think I’d forget it?”

I said nothing, so Kale proceeded to walk out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen. I gazed at the space he vacated for a few moments, before sitting down on the sofa and staring ahead at the blank television screen.

He remembered how I took my tea. I didn’t know if it was just an afterthought, because he’d made me so many cups of tea during my lifetime, or if it was a bit of knowledge he held onto after I left, and it killed me because I couldn’t ask. It would have been awkward. I couldn’t ask him any kind of question that related to feelings between us. I knew how that conversation went, and it wasn’t pretty.

Besides, a conversation about our past would be on Kale’s terms; I owed him that much.

I turned the television on and scanned through the channels until I landed on The Big Bang Theory. That was safe. It was a comedy show, and there was a low probability of me bursting into tears as we watched it. A few minutes passed by before Kale re-entered the room with two cups of tea in his hands. He placed both cups on coasters on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

He settled next to me, sitting just a few inches away, with his arm thrown over the back of the sofa and his long legs parted as he watched the show. I couldn’t concentrate on anything other than how close Kale was to me. He was so close I could smell his delicious scent, and it was torturing me as it begged me to bury my face in his neck and inhale.

Rein it in, my mind warned.

I bit the insides of my cheeks, then leaned forward and picked up the cup in front of me, blew lightly and took a sip of the heated liquid. I audibly groaned as the sugary goodness slid down my throat to my empty stomach.

“Oh. My. God,” I breathed. “You still make the best cup of tea I have ever tasted.”

Kale didn’t reply, so when I looked at him, I found his eyes were focused on my mouth, and it caused my pulse to spike. After a moment or two, he lifted his gaze to mine and grinned. “I’m glad I still hold onto my title of World’s Best Cup of Tea Maker.”

I snorted, thinking back to the time when I’d given him that title. I was fourteen and had my period, and I was cramping and miserable. Kale made me my first cup of tea, and it changed everything. Every. Thing. From that moment on, whenever I was in his company, he would be on duty to make me a cup of tea.

I was glad to see it was one tradition that didn’t fade to nothing.

We sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before I felt on edge. I wanted to offer my condolences for Kaden, to acknowledge his existence, but I didn’t know how to say it. I was so scared I would mess it up and not come across as completely sincere. I was also afraid it would upset Kale, and that was the last thing I wanted.

I decided it was best for me to leave before I said something that would upset one of us, most likely me.

“I think I’m going to go up to bed before I fall asleep down here.”

That was a cold-hearted lie. I was so wired being in his company, and it was freaking me out.