“A wine and paint night,” he finishes.
“It’s wonderful. Thank you.”
We are guided through basic landscape painting, and I am in my element. I'd only just mentioned the fact that I want to paint in passing. But with each stroke of the brush, I realize I've been a fool not to pursue something I love so much. Kace made me see that, and I have no idea where this thing between us will go, but I'll always be grateful to him for this.
He looks at me every now and then as he attempts to paint something that will never pass as anything more than a few lines across a white canvas.
We walk along the peer,which is surprisingly behind the restaurant. I've never seen this place before, although I've been to the peer several times.
“I haven't had this much fun in a long time.”
“Then how about we take it up a notch.” He laughs as he grabs me by the waist and effortlessly lifts me onto a pillar. I’m out of breath, reeling from the feel of his hands on my middle and the way he’s looking at me, with desire evident in his gaze.
He settles himself between my thighs, and it may be the wine or the stars hanging above us, but I place my hands on both his cheeks and bring my lips to his. I caress the soft stubble on his face as my lips mould to his. He places his hands behind my head and pulls me closer as I wrap my arms around his neck, his tongue exploring my mouth most intimately. I break away breathless.
"We should do that more often," he teases. He carries me down, and I rest my head on his arm as we walk. The kiss at the forefront of my mind.
“So, what is it that your parents do?”
"My mother passed away when I was young, and my father is as good as dead, to me at least." His jaw ticks, and I don't want to push him. I know how there are some things you don't want to open up about.
"I'm sorry about your mom," I offer. My mom is a handful at times, but I couldn't imagine a life without her.
“It’s all good. It was a long time ago.”
“So, tell me more about your book.”
“It’s a work in progress.” He shrugs. Creative sorts are always like this.
"Come on, give me something. What's it about? I gotta give my sister something." I laugh, and he looks down at me seriously. His carefree attitude seems to have evaporated, and I can tell by his eyes his guard is up.
“I don’t want to talk about it. Look, it’s getting late. I should get you home,” he says shortly.
“Did I say something to offend you?” I can’t keep the edge from my voice. It’s obvious he is upset, and I am not the kind of person who’ll just let things brew.
“Nothing I have not heard before,” he says, pivoting on his heels and heading off in the direction of the car park.
"Kace! Kace!” I shout, but he doesn't stop. He just continues walking. I have to run to catch up with him. I grip his jacket. "What's going on?"
He runs his hands through his hair. “Nothing, ok. Just nothing.”
“It can’t benothingif you’re this angry.”
"Well, it is. Just drop it Kenzie." And so I do, because his voice pleads for me to.
We drive home in silence, and I can't believe how easily a perfect evening can turn into a misunderstanding. Maybe he didn't like talking about himself. If that was the case, how would I get to know him? And I want nothing more than to know everything, from the scars on his hands to the sadness behind his brown eyes. I want it all.
Chapter 9
Kace
Iwatch her enter her apartment building, and I sit outside for a while after she's gone in. I know I overreacted. It's a reasonable thing to ask, but whenever someone does ask me, I feel under pressure. Like they're going to judge me. The truth is, I don't like to say it out loud and end up being accountable. It starts with “What's it about?”, but it slowly moves to “How far are you? Do you need any help?” I want to work at my own pace. It is, after all, my own story. Still, I messed up.
When I get home, I'm ready to smash something against the wall. I realize I need to apologize, but I need to do that in person. It's a Friday night, and hopefully, she has no plans tomorrow. I'll surprise her with breakfast. I think back to that kiss. I've dated women over the years, and some were incredible kissers, but there was something about the way Kenzie kissed me. It was raw, like she gave everything she had in that moment. She was vulnerable, and it mirrored my own feelings.
“Argh,”I growl. “The one woman who doesn’t give a shit about the car you drive, or that you’re pretty much a loser, and you blow it.” I have to sort this out.
I shower, falling into bed, staring up at the ceiling. I know it will be one of those nights where I’ll remain awake until the sun comes up.
