LUCY

 

He acts as if I’m not here. I don’t know what’s changed. I could’ve sworn he’d gotten comfortable (?) with me being here. He attended all of his meetings without a word of complaint. He’d gotten nicer (?) and less like a caged animal. Mr. King was very happy to see that. But something changed and I don’t know why.

 

Setting my pen down, I rubbed my fingers. They ached but not nearly as much as my heart. Killian turned ice-cold just like that. One minute he was staring at me as if I was the most beautiful girl in the world and the next it was as if I didn’t exist.

This bothered…no…hurt me.

It stirred too much of the way it was when my family’s finances fell apart. How my dad lost his job, the bills piling up and the food dwindling faster. How he stayed out late and later at night, spending what precious money we had on booze.

Change the channel.

How he left us both.

Change the channel. Please.

How my mom become a husk with just enough will to move us to her great-aunts before crawling into a series of gin bottles. The bullying at school for carrying a southern drawl among other crimes like the wrong hairstyle or shoes. The way I had to toughen up to survive when all I wanted to do was be kind to everyone.

Change the channel, Lucy. Now.

I hated these memories, but no matter how much I hated them they always found a way to crawl through me.

Things had been getting better between us. Killian had grown softer, less jagged. Despite our fight and what happened afterwards…

I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Every time I entered this room, my memories snapped back to the feel of his mouth, the way his tongue played with mine and taught me to play with his.

There was no point in changing the channel. My set was broken.

“Mr. Killian, you’re due with Sales in an hour and thirty minutes.”

“I know.”

Monotone.

“Do you want a snack beforehand? I can get something real quick.”

“I’m not a toddler. I don’t need a snack. What I need is for you to sit in your chair and doodle. Or not. Just leave me out of it.”

Although Killian’s words were sharp, his tone lacked its usual bite. That made me feel worse. I wasn’t a glutton for pain. At least I didn’t want to be.

My feelings about our kiss were mixed but that wasn’t what drove my behavior this week.

I hated that I slapped him.

Even though I apologized and he accepted, I hated what that bit of temper cost me. It proved I wasn’t as good as I wanted to be, that the streets were right there waiting to pull me back.

The guilt made me unsure about how to act. Killian freezing me out only made me sure he was regretting keeping me on board. He could’ve had me arrested for assault and with my background…yeah, I’d be right back where I started.

How did I even end up here?

“Are you okay, Mr. Killian?”

“Define ‘okay’?”

I sat up in my chair. This was interaction. Something we hadn’t had in over a day. “It’s just that you seem as if something is bothering you—”

Killian sighed loudly. “I believe I told you that your Angel of Mercy crap was getting old. Consider it fossilized.”

“Being nice never gets old.”

“Wrong. It’s boring and unnecessary. I don’t need it and you’re better off writing that tidbit in your little book since you can’t seem to remember.”

All right. He was getting uglier. On the surface, that wasn’t a good thing. Okay, it was never a good thing, but at least he was interacting. The unnatural monotone bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

He’s not being like Mom. He’s just being...hateful. Not depressed.

Guilt made me passive. Something had to change. Otherwise, I needed to pack it up and go home—which wasn’t going to happen. Blowing out a breath, I took a chance.

“We have time if you want to…uh…” My throat closed up. I couldn’t believe how hard it was to get the words out!

Several tense seconds scrolled by. Then Killian snapped, “You were saying?”

Now I didn’t want to say it.

Especially when he turned around, fist clenched around the black marker. Killian’s clothes matched the neat, precise letters and numbers on the board. He hadn’t worn all black since the first day we met.

I was positive it wasn’t a coincidence.

“Lucy, I don’t have all morning. Spit. It. Out.”

I needed to find my spine. Fast. Licking my lips, I didn’t give myself time to second-guess the denial about to roll right over me. “Do you want to go out to lunch? I know it’s kind of late, but it’s only two.”

Killian never forgot lunch but he did today. Just as he never neglected in feeding me. Instead, he just kept working and I kept waiting.

Steaming rejection with a side-order of scorn coming up in 3…2…1…

He crossed his arms. “No.”

Not surprised. Just surprised he didn’t add a few choice comments too. I should’ve counted myself lucky. That tongue could’ve shredded me to pieces before I registered the first bite.

“Okay. No biggie. I’ll just go down on my own—”

“Dinner works better for me today.”

He then turned away, seemingly forgetting my presence again.

Shocked, I stared at his wide back. Lunch was one thing. Appropriate. After hours? That screamed personal and inappropriate. My purse beckoned me. Rather, the phone in my purse.

Mr. Luis would know what to do. He’d either confirm my misgivings or would tell me I was overthinking things. It was just dinner. It wasn’t like Killian was asking me to bed…

And if he did? Would I go?

Yes. No. No. No. Yes?

What was wrong with me? There was only one answer. No. Absolutely not. I’d made a vow years ago when it came to men and sex. I wasn’t about to break it just because my hormones were going out of wack.

Can you count a vow made at thirteen as binding? Serious question.

I bit back a curse. It was so hard to know what the right thing was to do. Mr. King wouldn’t want me to spend time outside of work with his grandson. I mean, why would he? Then again, Mr. King never said it was off-limits.

I was rationalizing things. Poorly.

What do you want to do, Lucy?

I wanted to go.

Why? Is it to help or because you want more? Because you’re seriously attracted to a man for the first time ever?

Closing my eyes, I sat there in the barrenness of my judgment. Killian drew me to him whether he was a devil or an angel. I liked both and I didn’t even know why. I just knew I’d never felt more alive than when I was in his presence.

I wasn’t a glutton for pain. Honestly…

“Yes.” It was barely more than a whisper, but saying it out loud was as good as giving my word.

“Yes, what?”

He wasn’t supposed to hear that.

“Yes, I’ll go.”

“Was there any other outcome, Lucy?”

I didn’t answer because we both knew.

No.

My set was broken and I couldn’t change this channel until it was over.