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His jaw ticked. “Even if that were true, I still wouldn’t find you remotely attractive enough to join the lucky masses.”
Rebecca turned pink; however before she could voice a comeback, Colby led me away from her.
“That was unpleasant, as usual. You all right?”
“Sure,” I lied, refusing to let the man about whom I’d fantasized for as long as I could remember see any more of my embarrassment.
He searched my face, turning me toward the bar. “I don’t believe you. Come on, let’s get you a drink, and you can tell me what’s wrong, Kenz.”
My stomach fluttered like it always did when he shortened my name to one syllable. Most of my friends and family used Kenzie or my given name of McKenzie, but Colby had always called me Kenz. Even knowing he probably never thought twice about using the nickname, it still made me feel special.
It was tempting to unload everything on him. Truth be told, he’d make a great sounding board. But the thought of coming across as a dependent child when I wanted him to see me as a grown woman kept me from doing so. As fate would have it, while I was contemplating what to tell him, we were interrupted by my mother, who I’d secretly hoped to avoid for the remainder of the party. She insisted that I rejoin the masses to do my duty.
“McKenzie, you need to ensure you say goodbye to the guests who are leaving—seeing as they all came for you.”
Mom-guilt royally sucked, especially when I was so upset with her. But years of engrained etiquette kicked in, as I eyed my untouched drink with regret. “Talk to you later,” I mumbled without meeting Colby’s eyes. I knew my regression to a dutiful twelve-year-old daughter was not exactly winning me any seduction points.
My mother was all about protocol and manners, which meant that for the next hour I dutifully thanked and said goodbye to every guest present. It was somewhat awkward to be at my own party and hardly know anyone, but it made going through the motions while being completely numb easier to pull off. I’d have preferred a small get-together, like a barbeque with my actual friends and family, but as with everything, I hadn’t thought it worth the effort to fight my mother about the party plans. If I needed a reminder of why I preferred to stay across the country in Los Angeles, this was a prime one. Because not even at my own celebration had I been in control of the smallest detail, including the guest list. My one single act of defiance today had been to wear a dress my mother hadn’t picked out. Oh, yeah, I was a real rebel.
* * *
After all ofthe guests had departed, I snuck away to the one place I’d always had as an escape. The tree house that Colby’s father had built with him, Colby’s older brother, Josh, and Brian during one summer when they were kids. It perched on the border between our two houses. I hadn’t been up here in years and noticed right away that the wooden structure twenty feet up in the tree was showing its age. It didn’t matter. This was the last place anyone would look for me, which allowed me to be alone. Curling my knees up and hugging them close, I was unprepared for Colby’s voice, which startled me out of my silent misery.
“Hey, you.” He flashed his infamous PDG while he ascended the last step of the ladder. PDG was short for panty dropping grin and, good Lord, did he have one. Yes, indeed, when Colby Singer flashed his sexy smile, I swear every woman within a twenty-foot radius was ready to drop her panties.
I certainly wasn’t immune to his panty-melting charm. But, at the moment I was busy biting my lip to keep from crying. “Hey.”
His grin slipped into a concerned expression. “You going to tell me what’s wrong?”
How many times as a teenager had I fantasized about Colby Singer sneaking out to meet me here; however it certainly wasn’t so I could burst into tears and unload my problems. “I’m waiting out my mom, hoping she’ll go lie down, so I can sneak out and catch an earlier flight.”
Although I wasn’t due to return to Los Angeles until Monday, there was no way I could stay here another day. I needed to think, and, evidently, I wasn’t able to do it in the house where I’d grown up without completely reverting. I’d pretty much done as I was told for most of my life and the truth hit me that it wasn’t until moving away that I’d started to feel like I could be my true self. It confirmed that I absolutely could not live at home ever again. I had no clue what I was going to do, but denial seemed a whole lot easier to achieve if I could at least get back to my apartment and be in my own company.
He smiled. “Well, I have good news. I overheard her tell your dad that she was lying down for a nap right before I came looking for you. How about you go get packed, and I’ll drive you to the airport?”
Well that was a relief. “Thanks. I could use a ride.” After climbing down and then walking to the house side by side, I asked, “How did you know where to find me?”
“It’s where you always went when something was bothering you, or you wanted to avoid your mom. And since both of those scenarios seemed in play, I figured I might find you there.” He turned back, looking over his shoulder at the structure. “The tree house has definitely seen better days.”
I nodded. “It has, but I like the memories.”
Once I was back at the house, I was thankful that neither of my parents were around; only the caterers were busy, cleaning up. After I packed quickly and verified there was a flight that evening I could try to go on standby, Colby helped me get my suitcase out to the car, and we set off for the airport.
Although it wasn’t like me to leave without saying goodbye to my mom or dad, I gladly took the opportunity and ran with it. Normally, Colby and I would have had plenty to chat about, but for once, I was completely quiet.
“Did you, uh, talk to your brother before he left?” Colby asked.
“Yeah. He gave me a lame excuse of a work emergency. Do you know what really happened?”
Colby hesitated. “Not really. He feels terrible about leaving early, though. He texted me to see if you were doing okay.”
That was my brother, always looking out for me. One more example of how I was dependent on others. “I told him not to worry about the party. He may not want to tell me what’s really going on, but staying only would’ve made us both miserable.”
“That was decent of you, Kenz.” He fixed his eyes on me.
I shrugged, fighting the tears once more. Dammit, I wasn’t a crier. And there was a good reason; it wasn’t a pretty sight. I knew girls who were sweet when they cried, some tugged at your heartstrings, but nope, not me. Ugly crying was my specialty, with puffy eyes, red blotches on my face, and big gobs of tears. Since there was no way I was going for that look, I put on the sassy, fun face that Colby was used to seeing. Unfortunately, I wasn’t as good of an actress as I’d hoped.
His expression softened. “You going to tell me what upset you at the party?”
