Meet Cute (Page 30)

I toss my napkin on the table. “I should go up and talk to her.” I don’t know what the hell I’m going to say to make this better.

Kailyn slips off her chair as I swivel in mine. Her hands come to rest on my knees, maybe to stop me, comfort me, I don’t know. “She asked to be alone. Give her a few minutes before you go up there. I know you want to fix this, but respect her need to process.”

I swallow and nod, my eyes on Kailyn’s hands with her perfect, manicured nails spread over my knees. It’s definitely meant to console, but the contact does something else to me. It’s been weeks since I kissed her, and more weeks since I’ve experienced any kind of physical release apart from on my own. This is different, though. I connect with Kailyn on a level beyond attraction. There’s something deeper—or maybe it’s all in my head because I’m desperate to have someone to hold on to who understands.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” I skim the length of her fingers and circle her wrists as I part my legs, pulling her between them. She doesn’t resist. In fact, when I release her wrists, she runs her palms up my chest and over my shoulders.

“It’s okay,” she soothes.

I tug her closer, until her body is flush with mine. She relaxes against me almost immediately. God, she feels good, warm, soft, feminine. I drop my head, glad her hair is coiled on top of her head so I can breathe her in. She smells like sunshine and solace.

Her fingers slip into the hair at the nape of my neck, kneading gently. “It’ll be okay, Dax.”

“I want this . . .” I don’t finish that thought because I’m not talking about Emme anymore.

“You want what?” she prompts, nails dragging gently across the back of my scalp.

This isn’t fair of me. Kailyn’s been such a source of strength and compassion over these last weeks, and I keep seeking her out, pulling her into my downward spiral. But she’s here and I don’t believe this connection is one-sided, so I turn my head anyway, lips finding the sweet skin in the space between her collarbone and her neck. “You.”

She stills for a moment, her gasp soft in my ear. I sweep my lips along the column of her throat, aware that if I do this, if I push like this with her, it could go one of two very different ways.

If I’m reading all the signs wrong—and I very well could be, considering the mess my head is—I could ruin this tentative friendship we’ve formed. I could take away a slice of stability from Emme. But in this selfish moment, I want to get lost in Kailyn and her quiet beauty. I want her strength and her conviction.

I part my lips and kiss that warm spot just below her ear. “Kailyn.”

A tremulous breath leaves her. But she doesn’t pull away, and she doesn’t stop me when I press my lips to the edge of her jaw. I run my hands along her arms, thumbs sweeping up the side of her neck. Her throat bobs under my touch, and her fingers tighten in my hair.

I don’t give her time to reconsider, aware Kailyn is far more logical than me. If I waste these precious moments, I’ll lose them. I tip her head, angling my own, and find her mouth.

Her lips are soft, like the rest of her. She may be tough on the outside, but inside she’s tender and maybe just a little broken from all of her losses. Like me. I stroke the seam of her lips with my tongue and she parts for me. I sink into her sweet taste and her low moan.

The kiss deepens but doesn’t explode like a flash fire. It’s a slow burn, a steady flame flickering, growing hotter as she melts into me. I bet she’s soft between the sheets. And I desperately want to find out if I’m right, but now probably isn’t the best time.

I still allow my hand to drift down and find the dip in her spine, pulling her in tighter against me. She sucks in a breath when she feels me, hard for her. Her tongue meets mine, stroke for bold stroke, and I ease my hand lower until my fingers press into the swell of her ass.

That’s the moment that her hands leave my hair and come to rest on my shoulders. Before she can push me away, I release her mouth and cup her face in my palms. I can’t meet her gaze yet, afraid I’ll be met with rejection I’m not strong enough to accept.

Instead I skim her wet bottom lip with my thumb and come back for an easy, chaste kiss.

“Dax.” Her tongue peeks out, then her teeth press into that plush skin.

Slowly, I lift my gaze.

“We can’t do this,” she whispers, but her eyes say something else, and so does her body.

“I think we are doing this.”

“What about Emme?”

I bite my tongue against the things I want to say, like what about me and what I need, but she has a point. “We can keep it between us for now.”

She opens her mouth to speak but I stop her again with my lips. And she responds, like I want her to, softening against me, letting me get lost in her. When I pull away this time, I stroke her cheek. “We have something.”

“You’re looking for comfort,” she says softly.

I don’t deny it. “I am.” A flash of hurt crosses her beautiful face, so I continue. “But that’s not all I’m looking for, Kailyn. I like you, I always have.”

“Emme needs stability.”

“I know. And I won’t push you to be that for her or me, just please, think about it before you say no. We can be friends when Emme’s around, and when she’s not we can see if there’s something more.” I drag a single finger from her jaw to her collarbone and she shivers. “I think there is and I think you feel it, too.”

She looks so uncertain as her fingers drift along the edge of my jaw. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Me, either.”

She closes her eyes on a deep inhale. “I need time.”

My stomach sinks. “I understand.”

When she opens them again, her internal battle is clear. I wish what I was asking of her wasn’t weighed down with so much baggage. I wish I was in a position where I could give more than I take. It’s not just herself she’s worried about, it’s Emme, and maybe even me. Which is the exact reason I want her, because she understands, maybe a little too well, the gravity of getting involved with me. And I wouldn’t blame her if she said no, but selfishly, I want her to deem me worth the risk.

chapter fourteen

GIRL TIME

Kailyn

Irun a finger across the cold smooth stone and bend to place the dahlias in front of my mother’s grave and the daisies by my dad’s. It’s quiet in the cemetery at this hour, the sun dropping lower in the sky and taking some of the heat of the day with it. I sink down between the stones, crossing my legs. It’s peaceful here.

I was close with both of my parents, but my dad and I had a special relationship. He was the one I always went to for advice, and in those years after my mother passed, that closeness deepened, and then he was gone, too.

I run my fingers across the petals of the daisies. “I’ve been taking on pro bono custody cases. I think you’d be proud, Dad. I kept a little girl from being bounced around in the system like I was. She has two amazing parents who love her just like you loved me. And now I’m working with a little boy and his foster family hoping to do the same.”

I swallow back the tears, aware I’m stalling and Hope isn’t the reason I’m here. If my dad were alive and not just a memory, he’d be waiting patiently for me to get to the damn point with a smile on his face.

“I met someone, but it’s complicated. He lost his parents recently, and he has a little sister he has to take care of now. It reminds me a lot of the way we were after Mom passed. Sort of. This is different, though. I think I like him.”

I close my eyes, picturing my dad’s face, the way his brow would quirk and that small grin he’d wear, as if he knew I was leaving something out before I admitted it.

“No. That’s not true. I more than like him. We have something and it scares me. For the first time since I lost you I feel . . . grounded. I mean, you know how much I love hugs.” I laugh and roll my eyes. “But with Dax I feel safe. Protected maybe? And I’m needed.”

I can hear my dad’s But? in my head.

“If I bring him over to my firm, I’ll make partner before I’m thirty, just like I promised I would, but I’m not sure if I want that anymore, at least not as much as I want to keep this feeling.”

I try to get a handle on my emotions as tears slip down my cheeks. “I don’t want to disappoint you, but I don’t want my job to be the only thing that has meaning for me, and I don’t think you’d want me to do that. I’m a little scared of the way I feel about this man. I used to have such a crush on him as a teenager, Dad, and then for the longest time I hated him, or thought I did. But now that I’ve gotten a chance to really know him, the real him, it’s different. He’s such an incredible man, although I don’t think he realizes it.

“But I worry I’m just a comfort for him and he only wants to be with me because I understand what he’s going through. I’m in a lot deeper than I meant to be. I’ve been so reluctant to let anyone else into my heart because I’m not sure I can handle another big loss. I know how hard it was for you when we lost Mom, and your heart never really recovered from that, did it? Eventually it gave out on us.” I consider the truth in that statement. How after my mom passed my dad seemed so lost in life without her, and how awful it was to be unable to find a way to bring his light back. “I think I’m falling for him, for both of them, and the possibility of having that is frightening, but I don’t know if I can walk away. I just . . . I want to do the right thing, but I’m not sure what that is anymore. I wish you were still here so you could tell me what to do.”