Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 104869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
“Look, we’ll talk, okay? But we need to dry off first. I’ll get those towels,” she stated and fled.
“Would you like something to eat? I can make a couple of sandwiches, or—”
“No. Thank you,” Smith interrupted her.
Kenny swallowed nervously and twisted her hands together as she stood behind the counter in the small open-plan kitchen. Smith was sitting on the only easy chair, considerately leaving the more comfortable sofa for Kenny to occupy. Only she couldn’t quite bring herself to sit down yet.
They’d both had showers and were wearing fresh, dry clothes. Smith was in one of his pilfered T-shirts and while she was in the shower, he’d found a pair of clean sweatpants in his gym bag which had apparently been in his car since yesterday morning.
“Thirsty?”
“Kenna, please sit down.”
She nodded grimly and limped to the sofa on leaden feet. The cast made her movements awkward and jerky.
She sat on the edge of the seat, back rigid, quaking knees pressed primly together. She was wearing a pair of comfortable black yoga pants and a red hoodie, both of which she’d bought on her shopping trip yesterday. She didn’t have many lounging around the house clothes, simply because she rarely had the time or inclination to lounge.
Her choice in clothing had been tactical. She wouldn’t have felt comfortable having this conversation with Smith in his clothing; it would have felt like a disadvantage. Kenny needed every advantage she could muster to get through this.
“Your eye looks terrible,” she said, wincing at little at the sight of his bloodshot and bruised eye. “How do you feel? Headache? Dizziness? I should probably have driven us here. That was negligent of me.”
“Kenna.” His voice was patient. “I’m fine.”
“Why do you call me that?” She didn’t know why she’d never asked him that before. She’d just always liked that he did. “Nobody else ever has.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he considered her question, and she had a moment’s doubt that he would answer.
“Why have you never asked me before?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe because I didn’t want you to think I didn’t like it.”
“Do you like it?”
“Very much. I just always wondered.”
“I like the way it rolls off my tongue, the soft rhythm of it. It matches—matched—the way I felt about you when we first met. I also liked that it was mine alone. It felt intimate. Special.”
His words so accurately reflected how she felt whenever he called her Kenna, that she took a moment to absorb the quiet revelation.
They lapsed into silence while the storm raged outside, filling that silence with violent winds, booming thunder, and torrential rain.
She nervously picked at a cuticle before catching herself and dragging her hoodie sleeve over her hand.
She stared at him for a long moment, wondering how to start things. Should she wait for him to speak first? Permit him to decide the direction their talk would take?
No. She was sick of allowing him to control every interaction between them. This was her time to talk, and she wasn’t going to let him hijack this conversation.
It was too important.
She sucked in a deep, cleansing breath and exhaled amid a cascade of words.
“My mother and I were extremely close. Did I ever tell you that?” He shook his head, looking a little bemused. She sighed, the sound laden with regret. “Of course I didn’t. It’s just one of the many things I have a hard time talking to anyone about.” She shook her head in self-disgust, wishing she weren’t like this but not knowing how else to be. She took a moment to gather her thoughts.
“Uh…we were close. We kind of had to be in a houseful of males. I was about six, nearly seven, when my parents separated and my mother moved back to Cape Town. I was so sure she would want me with her. But they—she and my father—decided that we would all be better off staying with him. In Edinburgh.
“No discussion. End of story. We were simply informed that we would stay with Dad. And Mom would get us during the holidays.”
He made a small, sympathetic sound and she flinched away from the compassion she saw in his eyes. She wouldn’t be able to get through this if he showed her any kindness right now. So she averted her gaze, focusing on the wall behind him, as she continued to talk.
“I know you think he’s autocratic and a domineering pain in the arse, but I love my father very much. He’s just not very good at showing affection.” She laughed, a desperate mocking sound, and allowed herself a quick glance at his face. “I know, that’s really rich coming from me, right? Dad was even more distant when he was younger. He was always so preoccupied with work. Cade and Nox tried to emulate him. Of course, this was just their way of trying to win his approval and gain his attention. They stopped laughing, stopped playing and became mini versions of our father.