Playing it Kale (The McCain Saga Book 4) (4 page)

Feeling as if I’m flying on a rainbow
cloud, I hop off the stage and put my guitar back in its case.
 
Just as I turn to go put it back in the van,
I run smack into someone.

“Whoa, sorry,” Kale says as he grabs my
guitar before it can crash to the ground for the second time today.
 
“I’ve got to stop doing this.”

I laugh and grab the handle again as he
hands it back.
 
“
You
trying
to kill me or something tonight?
 
What are you, a serial killer?”

And I can instantly tell I took it too
far and made it awkward when he gives me a
look
.

“Yeah…sorry,” I immediately say.
 
“Like I said, I say the most awkward things.”

Kale laughs, and the instant he does, I
feel more at ease.
 
“It’s fine.
 
Um, I’m going to help clean up for a bit, but
do you want to go do something after?”

Pretty much every time Kale talks to me
or looks at me, my heart does crazy acrobatics, and my skin starts doing
strange things like tingling—and right now is no exception.
 
I look back at the band.
 
Ming is of course watching me like a
hawk.
 

“She’s good,” Ming
says,
a bit too loudly and hastily.
 
“She’d
love to.”

Kale chuckles and waves
at her.
 
“Thanks.
 
I promise to have her
home before one?”

“Keep her as long as you like,” Ming
says with a goofy smile on her face.

“Oh.
 
My.
 
Gosh,” I say in
embarrassment.
 

“Hey, it’s cool,” he says.
 
“Your friends seem…”

“Bananas?”

“I was going to say awesome,” he
corrects with a smile.
 
“Hey, where do
you live?
 
Maybe I can drop you off
tonight?”

This is too much.
 
Meeting the man I’ve fantasized about for the
past two years, talking to him, touching him.
 
Is this a date he’s asking me on, or what is going on?
 
I might just spontaneously combust with all
the
epicness
.

“Uh, Seattle, just
above Lake Union?”
 
I don’t know why I pose it as a question.
 
I’m pretty sure about the location of where I
lay my head down at night.

“Perfect,” he says.
 
“I’m staying with my sister, Sage, in
Bellevue so that’s not far away.
 
Wait
for me for a few minutes?”

“Okay,” I say timidly.
 
And with a smile, he dashes off to clean up.

Ming suddenly jumps down from the stage,
grabs my hands, starts jumping up and down, and squeals.

I give a victorious squeak of my own.

“’K, when you guys do the dirty-dirty
tonight, don’t forget to use protection,” she says, a crazed grin on her
face.
 
“And then take pictures.
 
Of him.
 
Cause
I don’t need
to see your naked white self.”

“Ming!” I cry in horror.
 
“I am not going to be doing the dirty-dirty
with anyone tonight,” I hiss through clenched teeth as I look around to make
sure no one heard.

“You’re going to have to do it with
someone, someday,” she says, still far too excited for her own good.
 
“You can’t hang onto your V-card for
forever.
 
It’s not healthy.”

“I’m done talking to you,” I say with a
mock-irritated look in her direction as I head for the cake before it can be
carted away.

I look back over my shoulder once, and
she gives me
a thumbs
up as she waggles her eyebrows.

I often times question my choice in
friends.
 
But then I remember how much I
love them.

“You did amazing,” Raelynn says as I get
to the table that has the rest of the wedding cake on it.
 
Like she knows exactly what I’m after, she
cuts me a piece and hands me the plate.
 
“You’re voice is so beautiful.
 
I
can’t believe you aren’t on the radio already!”

“Thank you, Mrs. James,” I say with a
smile.
 
“Maybe
someday.”

“I bet if you tried, it’ll be within the
year,” she says with a smile.
 
Just then,
Kale’s dad walks over.
 

“Nice job tonight,” he says with a warm
smile in my direction.
 
And the two of
them carry the cake back into the house.

I wander back over to the fence and lean
against it as I eat my cake.
 
Cause
suddenly, I realize I’m starving.
 
I was too nervous about singing tonight to
eat lunch.
 
Cake probably isn’t my best
choice for a meal, but hey, it’s amazing.

The band finishes loading up, and Ming
dashes over to me.

“We’re ready to roll out,” she says as
she dips her finger in the frosting of my cake and puts it in her mouth.
 
“Are you sure you’re good tonight?”

Kale walks up from behind Ming and wraps
an arm across her shoulders, easy as could be.
 
“I promise to get her home safe and sound tonight.”

Ming jumps
hard,
her eyes growing wide as dinner plates, and gives him a
look
.
 
He just chuckles, and
I notice when he laughs, his nostrils flare slightly.
 
It’s kind of adorable.

“See you tomorrow, Whit,” she says in a
strangled voice.
 
And then she shrugs out
from under Kale’s arm and makes a beeline for the van.

“Still think my friends are awesome?” I
ask with a wave of my frosting-covered fork.

“The frosting on your face is awesome,”
he says with a smile.
 
He steps forward,
wipes at something on my on my cheek.
 
He
comes away with a glob of frosting.

Which he puts in his
mouth as he holds my eyes.

Oh.
 
My.
 
Stars.

“And the humiliation of the night never
ends,” I say as I cover my eyes with my hand.

Kale laughs again, something he always
seems on the verge of.
 
He pulls my hand
away from my face and tugs me away from the fence.
 
“Stop being so self-conscious.
 
I think it’s cool that you’re different from
all the other girls.”

“You saying that doesn’t make me feel
much better,” I sigh as we start across the lawn toward the cars.
 
I grab my guitar from where it’s leaning
against a tree.
 
“All the other girls you
normally hang out with are probably perfect and never do anything weird or
clumsy.”
 
I mean, hello!
 
He dated Angelique Harris for like five
months.
 
She’s beautiful, and famous, and
perfect.

“All the other girls I normally hang out
with are incredibly fake and never once genuine,” he says as he looks over at
me.
 
“They’re all about how they look and
how they seem on the outside.
 
Trust
me,
it gets kind of old after a while.”

We stop just behind a gorgeous white Range
Rover that Kale pops the back hatch on.
 
I’m about to go all liquid impressed when the stunning woman that has to
be Kale’s sister walks up.
 
She’s dressed
to the nines and looks incredible.

“Should I expect you home tonight,
Kale?” she asks as she looks over at me and smiles.
 
It’s friendly, but seriously, everything
about this woman is intimidating.
 
Confidence just rolls off of her.
 
But in a different way than it does Kale.

“Yeah, but not until late,” he says as
he takes my guitar and sets it in the trunk.
 
“Uh, Whitney, this is my older sister Sage
Dohring
.
 
Sage, this is Whitney Ford.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Sage says with
a smile as she extends a hand.
 
I try to
manage a smile and shake it.

“You too.”

“Well, maybe we’ll see you in the
morning,” Sage says as she hugs Kale and presses a kiss to his cheek.

I cringe that she says
maybe
.

This is his sister.
 
She knows Kale well.
 
And she thought it no big deal to say that
maybe
he’d be home in the morning.

I’m not stupid.
 
I know Kale’s reputation for partying and
girls.
 

Am I making a stupid mistake?

But the second Kale looks back at me,
his eyes filled with genuine excitement, and everything he’s said all night,
comes back to me.
 
And how could I ever
say no?

Kale opens the door for me and I slip
inside, new car smell enveloping me.
 
He
climbs into the driver’s seat and carefully backs out, avoiding hitting the
remaining clean-up crew.

“So, what did you have in mind tonight?”
I ask as we roll down the gravel driveway.

“I’m not necessarily a plan-it-ahead
kind of guy,” he says as he turns out onto the main road.
 
“I haven’t really thought about it yet.
 
Kind of figured we’d see where the night
takes us?”

I smile and bite my lower lip.
 
“Okay.”

I can be spontaneous.
 
I can go for the random adventure.
 

But it’s not natural for me.
 
My parents raised me to be responsible.
 
To plan things out five,
ten years in advance.
 
That way
there will be no unpleasant surprises.
 

So being with Kale, someone who flies by
the seat of his pants, it’s…exhilarating?

“So, did you grow up in Washington?”
Kale makes small talk.
 
It’s something so
average and mundane, it seems unnatural coming from him.

“Yep,” I say.
 
Kale pulls at his tie and I try not to let
the heat that suddenly ignites between my legs show on the outside.
 
He tosses it in the backseat and undoes his
top button.
 
“Uh…yeah.
 
Born and raised in Seattle.
 
My parents both work as scientists at UW.”

“Which means you’re also way, way
smarter than me,” he chuckles.

I
shrug,
too
embarrassed to admit I’m nearly done with my master’s degree at the ripe old
age of twenty-two.

“What about you?” I say, turning the
conversation away from me.
 
“With your
career, you can’t live here.
 
Where’s
home these days?”

Kale shakes his head and for the first
time all night, I see a seriousness grow in his eyes.
 
“Who knows?
 
It’s different every week.
 
I
mean, I own an apartment in New York since that’s where I am most often, but
I’m constantly traveling.”

“That’s got to be difficult sometimes,”
I say.
 
He just shrugs.
 
Like he either doesn’t want to talk about it,
or maybe it really is no big deal to him.
 
“How long are you here for?”

“I fly back to New York Thursday
evening.”

I nod, and my mind reels, trying to
think of what to talk about next.
 
Get me
in the right mood and I’m hyper and can talk about nothing-crap all night long.
 
Put me with someone I just met, and
oftentimes they’re wondering if I was born with my own personality or not.

As if sensing my uncomfortable state,
Kale starts rambling about different places he’s visited in the past two
years.
 
Singapore, Africa, the UK,
Hawaii.
 
It all sounds so exotic and so
exciting.

And it’s easy to tell that Kale loves
what he does.
 
Kale McCain loves himself,
and it isn’t obnoxious or annoying or overly prideful or anything.
 
He just is who he is, no apologies.
 
He’s comfortable in his own skin and he is
his own person.

“Where are we going?” I ask when Kale pulls
off the freeway in Bellevue.

“We’ll figure that out soon.”
 
And the way he says it, I’m pretty sure he
doesn’t have anything particular in mind.
 
He’s out for adventure tonight.