“Soon.”
“Define ‘soon.’”
“When the government decides to take the house and set it on fire.”
Kai blinked. “Right. So … soon-soon.”
I closed my eyes. “Please don’t start.”
He pulled out the chair opposite me, sat down, and looked at me with concern.
“You alright?” he asked softly.
No.
“Yes.” It was a lie.
His eyes flicked to the stack. “Any way I can help?”
“No.”
“Tori—”
“Kai, seriously. I’ve got it.”
He rested his thick forearms on the table, and for a moment I was distracted as my gaze flicked down to the delicious protruding veins runningalong his arm. Kai studied me with his usual gentle yet aggravating perceptiveness.
“It’s just money,” he said. “You worked your ass off all week. Let me pitch in.”
I stiffened. “No.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Not even a little?”
“No.”
“Love—”
“Don’t ‘Love’ me. You don’t even have a job, Kai! What makes you think you can help me?”
He snapped his mouth shut when I glared at him. There was no trace of insult on his face, though. All I could see was sincerity and genuine concern.
“You don’t have to handle everything alone,” he said quietly, his thick brows furrowed.
“I do,” I murmured. “It’s my family. My responsibility. This,” I gestured between us, “is only temporary, remember? I can’t afford to rely on you.”
Kai clenched his jaw, but he nodded. There was a beat of silence.
“Alright. If you don’t want help with the bills…” His voice took on a gentler tone. “I won’t touch them.”
Relief washed through me, immediately followed by guilt, because the hurt in his eyes was small but unmistakable.
Before I could even try to explain myself, to make him understand, he stood. A surprising bolt of panic shitthrough me. I hadn’t wanted him here, getting mixed up in my problems, but somehow the thought of him leaving now was worse.
“Okay,” he said, his tone shifting to something light and determined — maddeningly Kai. “If I can’t help with those—” he jerked his chin toward the bills “—I’ll help with everything else.”
I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
But he was already moving.
