Kai nods, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “There should be some candles in the attic. I can bring you some, if you need them.”
I nod and give him a smile. Can’t hurt to give my phone a break, especially when I still need to call Mikey once we have service again. As I turn around, Kai opens his mouth slightly, looking as though he’s going to say something else. But Kai’s mouth closes as quickly as it parted. Instead, he gives me a tight smile of his own before heading toward the staircase, most likely to head up to the attic. A bolt of lightning rips through the sky as he turns to leave, bathing the living room in bright white light. My shadow stretches long across the hallway—long enough to reach Kai. My darkness consuming him whole.
19
Kai comes back with more than just candles. A large rose gold candle is tucked beneath his arm along with an extra pillow, and a towel. Pinned between his chin and shoulder is a packet of Oreos, while his left hand struggles to daintily carry a mug of something steaming hot. My brow furrows—how did he manage to make something hot in the middle of a power outage?
“The joys of having a gas stove,” Kai says when he notices my look of confusion.
“I didn’t know this place came with room service,” I can’t help but tease as he struggles to set down the towel and pillows on the edge of my bed without spilling whatever’s in the mug.
“Only the best service at the powerless Chateau de Thompson,” he replies, nose wrinkled in concentration as he finally sets the mug down safely on my nightstand and breathes a sigh of relief.
I pull my knees up toward my chest, giving him room to set down his bounty before sitting down on the edge of my bed. Changing into clothes I’m used to—a baggy flannel and jeans—did wonders for setting me at ease.
I tried to call Mikey back a handful of times, but the NoService still displayed prominently in the corner of my screen held true. Instead, I’ve tried to reason with the panicked side of me. Mikey could’ve been wrong, or lying to get me to turn around and come home, or even a combination of the two. Or, more likely, he knew about Timothy all along and the worst of that experience—as bad as it was—is over now.
Even if that was it, I hope Mikey isn’t too panicked that I haven’t called him back. Hopefully he remembers from the few times we’ve visited the river that the service is awful up here. Still, I can’t shake the guilt burning inside me. I’ve had my fair share of nights spent alone in the house, knowing something awful was happening and there was nothing I could do about it. How terrible it felt to be so powerless. How badly I wanted to sneak out through my window and take matters into my own hands.
Like me, Mikey doesn’t have a license, so the chances of him doing what I couldn’t and coming to find me are slim. But then again, whether something is legal or not hasn’t stopped him before.
I quickly shake off that line of thought. Once Timothy’s back, we’ll be out of here and I’ll be home before Mikey can do anything stupid.
While I’d been avoiding him earlier, I’m looking forward to Timothy showing up. At least once he’s back, we’ll finally be able to leave.
Even with Mikey’s voicemail still hanging over me, there’s something strangely comforting about being trapped inside during a storm—listening to the tree branches and wind whipping past my window while I’m bundled safe in my bed—or, as safe as I can be.
While Kai lays out the rest of his cargo, I take a closerlook at the mug he set down beside me. Steam dances above an almost full-to-bursting layer of marshmallows—several of them already melting into the warm liquid.
“Hot chocolate. My grandma’s recipe,” Kai explains when he catches me looking. “It’s got so much sugar it can take a year off your life, but it’s pretty damn worth it.”
I test that theory by taking a tentative sip. Sure enough, it’s as perfect as he promises. Richly sweet and smooth without being too overpowering. A dash of cinnamon and something I can’t quite place for added depth, all the flavors a perfect complement to the gooey half-melted marshmallows. From what I’ve tasted of Mrs. Thompson’s cooking at Sunny Hills, it’s no surprise that she makes the best hot chocolate in town—probably in the state. And that it tastes like it has several cups’ worth of sugar. Every time I’ve sampled her food, she’s been sure to remind me that the key to becoming a good cook is to stop listening to your head and listen to your stomach.
“Use as much butter as you damn well please,” she’d once said after a crowd had gathered to sample her famous baked mac and cheese.
I nod in agreement before I’ve even swallowed. “Definitely worth it.”
As he sits down beside me, I can tell Kai is trying to bite back a laugh, his attempt at hiding his smile failing adorably. I quirk my brow, silently asking him what he’s laughing about, and he points to the corner of his own mouth. Sure enough, when I match his movement there’s a glob of marshmallow clinging to the edge of my lip. My cheeks are almost as warm as the mug as I quickly wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
Kai pulls the thick candle out of the bundle of pillows and sets it down on the nightstand. He does the honors of lighting it, pulling a matchbox from his pocket and swiping a match to life. The scent of vanilla settles over the room within seconds.
Once the candle is lit, Kai juts his chin toward the array of supplies spread out across my bed. “You need anything else?”
This time it’s my turn to stifle a laugh. At this rate, if he brought me anything else I wouldn’t have any space to actually lie down on the bed. “I think you covered everything,” I reply, not bothering to hold back my smile.
Kai doesn’t seem to pick up on the humor, though. Instead of meeting my smile with one of his own, he ducks his head to his chest sheepishly, averting his gaze from mine as he mumbles a “sorry.”
I open my mouth, ready to assure him that he hasn’t done anything wrong, but all I do is trip over myself, garbled mishmashed sounds tumbling out instead of what I originally meant to say. Kai glances up at me with a furrowed brow and I clamp my mouth shut before I can make even more of an ass out of myself. I inhale slowly, using the exhale to collect my thoughts, and set my mug carefully back down on the nightstand.
Once I’m sure I won’t sound like I’m short-circuiting, I shift in closer to him, resisting the urge to reach out and touch his shoulder. “You don’t have to be sorry for bringing me extra pillows,” I reassure him, guilt tugging at my heart.
“I mean about everything,” he says. “I said this was going to be a chill cabin weekend and it’s just…” He trails off with a sigh before flopping against the army of pillows behind him and blowing a raspberry. “A mess.”
I shrug as I settle down beside him. I make sure to keep acareful amount of distance between us, propping myself up on my elbow so I can look down at him. “That’s not your fault.”
While I’m still on edge from everything that happened with Timothy, not to mention my run-in with Kiki and Carla in their room and Mikey’s voicemail, Kai’s kindness has never wavered. He’s the one bit of proof I have that Mikey could be wrong. You can’t fake the kind of sincerity Kai has. Even if you’re a fantastic actor. From the moment he picked me up, Kai’s tried to make me feel welcome. Safe. It’s not his fault that the others seem determined to do the opposite.
Out in the hallway, Carla and Kiki’s voices trail over from the staircase. I can just make out Carla telling Kiki about the conditioning treatment she wasted her money on last month when the door behind them closes, sealing off their conversation. Kai leans up at the sound of their voices, just to flop back down, rolling his eyes with a sigh. “I love my sister, but her friends are assholes.”
