King of Campus (20 page)

Shrugging, my eyes fall back to my fingers.  Our fingers.  Because he’s still holding my hand within his larger one and the sight of them together makes my belly prickle with unwanted nerves.  “Thanks.”

He’s quiet for a long, almost hesitant, moment before asking, “Do you want me to turn around and head back to campus?  You could always call and tell them that one of us got sick.  I don’t know… just make something up.”  His eyes fasten onto mine for a heartbeat.  “We don’t have to do this.  I’m sorry for forcing it on you.”

Taking a moment, I mull over his words.  Honestly, I really appreciate him offering to turn around and take us back to school.  And even though I could have seriously strangled him when he piped up with that damn suggestion, I’ve come to realize that it’s best this way.  I don’t have to be alone with them and Roan has already hit it off with my dad, so that will help in smoothing things over for the afternoon.  Plus, nothing will get too heavy with him there.  Everyone, including myself, will be on their best behavior.

So, even though I don’t necessarily want to go through with this, I can just get it over with and not have to see them for a while.

“No.  As long as you don’t mind, we’ll just go.”

His gaze latches onto mine for just a few seconds before sliding back to the black ribbon of highway stretched out in front of us.  “I don’t mind.  I’m the one who opened his big mouth and put you in this situation in the first place.”

“Yeah,” I agree wholeheartedly, “you did.”  But there’s a small smile tugging at my lips as I say the words.

Shaking his head, he mutters, “No good deed goes unpunished.”

I can’t help but snort with laughter.  “You got that right.”

Forty minutes later, we pull up in front of my dad’s house.  The one he bought with Leah after they got married so they could have a fresh start.  Which really means she hadn’t wanted to share a house with my mother’s ghost and memories.  I can’t help but stare up at it dispassionately.  It doesn’t feel like home at all.  Even though I lived here for two years before leaving for college, there are no fond memories to be had.

There’s just… nothing.

It’s like going to visit a distant relative I have absolutely no connection with.

A fresh wave of sadness rushes over me.

As if sensing my distress, Roan squeezes my hand again and that’s when I realize he’s been holding it for almost an hour.  Gently I slip my fingers from his.  They feel a little too good wrapped up in his strength.  And I don’t want to feel that because it’s not real.

The intimacy between us isn’t real.

“You ready?”

Not daring to speak, because if I do, I’ll probably ask him to drive me straight back to campus, I jerk my head into a tight little nod before unclasping my seatbelt.  Taking a deep breath, I open the door and swing my legs out.  It’s so weird that I haven’t been back here in almost a year and a half.  My eyes slowly rove over the two story arts and craft style house.

Leah had wanted something with character.  Lots of wood and built ins.  Everything within the house has been updated but it has stayed true to the original concept and style of the house.  Again, it couldn’t be more different than the rectangle saltbox style house I spent the first sixteen years of my life in.  Even though Leah and my dad have both told me a countless number of times that this is my house and I should feel comfortable here, I don’t.

I’m like a stranger who doesn’t quite fit in.

I try not to dwell on the fact that ever since my mother died, I don’t really feel like I belong anywhere.

As I force myself to start walking towards the house, Roan is right there at my side.  I can’t help but glance over at him, suddenly glad he’s here with me which is completely bizarre because we haven’t really known each other all that long.  We’ve barely become friends and yet, here he is.  Catching a glimpse into something so intensely personal.  It leaves me feeling vulnerable and exposed in a way I don’t particularly feel comfortable with. 

Just as we’re climbing up the cement front stairs, I reach out, grabbing hold of his hand, halting his progress to the large wooden door with its ornate beveled glass window.  “Thank you.”  I gulp out the words before I’m not able to say them. “I really appreciate you doing this for me.”

His blueish-green eyes burn into mine right before his hand tightens around my fingers.  Then he’s pulling me to him until I’m flush against his big body.  “I’m sorry I forced you into this,” he whispers, his eyes searching mine, “I should have kept my mouth shut.”  His lips twitch with just a spark of humor.  “I shouldn’t have answered your phone.”

Those words bring just a hint of a smile to my own lips.  One of my brows slowly slides upwards and I can’t resist asking, “Even though I don’t have a passcode?”

His smile intensifies. The way his turquoise eyes caress mine has my breath suddenly hitching.

“Not being passcode protected,” he recites as if he’s heard it a millions times, “is not an invitation to answer someone’s phone… or take a gander at their emails… or text messages… or their surprisingly awful taste in music.”

All thoughts of the excruciating afternoon ahead of us vanish as I gasp, “You didn’t!”

He compresses his lips tightly together looking slightly apologetic before clearing his throat.  “I
might
have peeked through a few things.”

It’s not exactly like I have intensely personal stuff on there, but still!  That’s a total invasion of privacy!

Grrrr.

Just as I’m getting ready to blast him, his lips suddenly descend until I can feel them whispering across mine. But they never quite touch, more like hover, as the breath lodges in my throat with sudden anticipation.  After a long drawn out moment, he finally murmurs against them, “How about we focus on the fact that I’ve learned my lesson and I’ll never do it again.”

All of the fight that had just been brewing within me quickly evaporates as we silently stare at one another.  I’m wondering if he’s going to finally kiss me again when the front door is yanked open. We jerk apart so abruptly I almost lose my footing which is exactly when Roan slides an arm around my waist.  We both turn towards my father who stands there with a bemused expression on his face as his eyes slowly bounce from me to Roan before finally settling on me again.

“Ivy.”  Stepping forward, he tugs me into his arms.  Once they’re secured around me, he whispers, “It’s so good to finally see you.”  Then he’s pulling back, taking a good long look at me.  “And you’re even more beautiful than before!”

Roan steps forward, thrusting his hand out for my dad to shake.  “It’s really nice to meet you, Mr. Kaster.”

“You too.  Thanks again for driving Ivy home today.”  His gaze bounces between us as if he’s trying to figure out exactly what we are to one another.  A speculative gleam enters his eye like he’s getting ridiculous ideas about the state of our relationship which I’ll have to correct at a later date.

Then we’re being ushered inside the house.  For just a moment, my eyes fly around the living room. It’s like stepping back in time because almost nothing has changed since I left.  Some of the pictures hanging on wall are different, but that’s about it.

“Sit down, make yourself comfortable.  Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

Now that we’ve greeted one another, awkwardness descends fairly quickly.  “We’ll just have some water, dad.”  I feel like a guest in this house.  It sucks.  “Thanks.”

“Nothing to eat?  How about some chips or a sandwich?  I know it was a long drive.”

Both of us shake our heads.  “Nope, water is fine.”

Nodding, he disappears into the kitchen.  Feeling restless and ill at ease, I quickly stand, moving towards the fireplace.  Just above it hangs a huge sixteen by twenty inch framed family portrait.

Except that I’m not in it which makes perfect sense because I don’t really feel like I’m part of this family.  Roan says nothing as he silently moves to stand at my side.  When I only continue staring at the picture, his hand gently slips into mine.  His fingers tightening around mine has something inexplicably easing within me.  For some reason my chest doesn’t feel nearly as constricted as it did only moments ago.

My eyes study the little girl and boy grinning back from the photograph.  I’m guessing since the twins look so much older than when I last saw them this must be a recent picture.  Almost begrudgingly I admit they’re adorable.  Nora has long caramel colored hair which she must have inherited from my father because it looks to be the same exact shade of golden brown as mine.  And Nolan has bright blond hair like Leah.

“She looks like you,” he comments softly.

Almost dispassionately, I study the picture for another long moment.  “A little bit,” I finally concede.

Nora’s facial features are a mix of Leah and my dad.  My eyes are similar to my dad’s but my lips and cheekbones are all my mother’s.  She also had a long lean body like I do.  She wasn’t a dancer but she could have been one.  She was tall.  Around five eight or so, just like me.

Without another word, I turn away, dismissing the picture just as my dad comes back with two bottles of water.  His eyes flit behind us to the professionally taken photograph.

Handing us our waters, he says, “We had that done last spring,”

Once again I turn to stare at it feeling a little more removed from the situation.  From them.  He may be my dad, but he started another family and it’s obvious there isn’t a whole lot of room in it for me.

“It’s a nice photo.”  Needing something to occupy my fingers, I twist off the cap and take a long swig from it.  We’ve only just arrived and this afternoon already feels as if it will never end.  I’m a fidgety nervous mess.  I just want to get the hell out of here.

“We’d like to get another one taken next spring with all five of us.”  He says the words softly as if he can tell my feelings are hurt even though I haven’t done or said anything to give him that impression.

Instead of responding, I ask the dreaded question.  “So where are Leah and the kids?”

“Oh, they had to run a few errands.  They’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

“Okay.”  Once again, I head back to the couch.  Roan sits right next to me as my father takes a seat in the armchair across from us.

Awkward tension starts to swirl through the air when my father suddenly asks, “So how do you two know each other?”

I glance at Roan out of the corner of my eye only to find him staring back at me.  There’s a small smile tipping his lips upward and I’m suddenly reminded of dumping my iced coffee down the front of him.  I almost shake my head because I absolutely do not want to share that story with my dad.

He arches a brow as if silently encouraging me to take the lead on this one.  Clearing my throat, my eyes shift back to my dad where I force them to stay.  “We have a business ethics class together and we’ve been partnered up for a project.”

Roan suddenly adds, “We also live in the same apartment building. Lexie is going out with my roommate, Dylan.”

“Well, that’s nice.  You two must see quite a bit of each other then.”

I shrug.  Obviously my father thinks we’ve got a thing going on between us.  I’m not sure if I should disabuse him of this notion or not.  Just as I’m contemplating what to do, Roan shifts his body towards mine before sliding an arm around my shoulders.  My dad’s lips lift as the back door is thrown open and little feet pound their way into the house.  It’s doubtful a herd of stampeding elephants could make as much noise as those two.

“I guess they’re home.”

My dad gets up, going to the kitchen to meet Leah.  I hear her ask if we’ve already arrived.  Then their voices lower and I can’t hear anything more.  I’m not sure if we should follow him into the kitchen or not, so I opt for staying put on the couch.

Roan squeezes my shoulder with the arm that’s wrapped around me.  “You doing okay?”

I blow out a long slow breath wishing we could just get up and make a run for it.  “I want to get out of here,” I finally mutter.

He nods as those gorgeous eyes of his fill with a mixture of sympathy and compassion.  Two emotions I never thought I’d see from him.  I actually feel staggered by the weight of his stare.  By what I see reflected within those bright depths of his.

“I know,” he finally replies.  Then he says the most unexpected thing.  “But I’m here with you, Ivy.  And so far, everything is going smoothly.”  Leaning closer, his lips brush softly against my temple.

If I’d thought I was staggered by the look in his eyes, his words blow me away.  I open my mouth to say something… what exactly- I don’t know… but no sound comes out.  Which is a first.

Thankfully I’m saved from myself and the strange feelings he’s provoking within me when my dad, Leah, and the kids join us in the living room.  Nora and Nolan race from the kitchen, their feet pounding the hardwood floor with every step they take.  There are huge brilliant smiles wreathing their faces like its Christmas morning or their birthdays or both, all rolled up into one.  They’re practically vibrating with pent up excitement.  When they see us sitting on the couch, they all but skid to a halt which is kind of comical.

My dad says to the twins, “Remember your sister, Ivy?  The one who lived in Paris?”