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Chapter One
Kelly
“You know I worry about you two,” Mom says, standing in the doorway of my bedroom with her arms crossed over her middle. She’s wearing her concern plain on her face. “I don’t want you getting into any trouble over there.”
“Mrs. J, honestly, we’re going to be fine.” Lena shoots Mom a smirk as she stuffs a fresh handful of clothes into her suitcase.
I giggle at the way my best friend packs, and I can’t help but think how good it is that she’s able to laugh, she’s able to enjoy herself, and let herself go after all she’s been through.
First, her Mom died when she was only nine years old, stricken down by lung cancer, a cruelty that couldn’t be stopped no matter how hard she cried. And then her dad – tall, handsome, rugged Kane – went missing just three years ago.
I try not to let myself think about Kane Konstantinov too much because my mind always goes to steamy and unfair places. Lena has enough to deal with without me pining over her six and a half foot tall ex-Army dad, with his gleaming silver hair and his stark blue eyes.
Crushing on him was my biggest hobby growing up, and every time I practiced singing – in my room, in the park – I always imagined I was singing for him.
Guilt twists through me.
What would Lena say if she knew how badly I’d crushed on her father, especially after he went missing?
I can’t tell her, ever.
Mom paces across the room and stares at Lena.
They could be mother and daughter as they gaze at each other. Lena and Mom are both thin, tall, with sculpted features. The only difference is Lena wears her hair up in a tight black ponytail, whereas Mom lets her brown locks spill down to her shoulders.
I try not to let my mind dance off to unhelpful places as I study the two women, try not to curse myself that I didn’t inherit Tamara Jones’ genes. I’m more like my dad in build, wider and stockier and less wraith-like.
Telling myself I don’t care doesn’t really work.
Even if Kane Konstantinov had stayed around long enough to see me become a woman, he never would’ve looked twice at me. Nobody looks at me like that, so I don’t know why I’d ever think the man of my dreams would be any different.
Stop it, I cry out in my mind.
I should think about how good is it that Mom and Dad have let Lena stay here since Kane went missing. I should focus on hoping that Kane returns, yes, but not for me, never for me. For my best friend.
“Do you call that packing?” Mom laughs. “You’re not going to have enough to wear at this rate, young lady. Have you ever heard of folding?”
Lena grins and warmth shimmers in my chest. I love how close they’ve become ever since Lena moved in, finding refuge in my home when hers was shattered into a million pieces.
Where are you, Kane? Where did you go?
“We’re only there for two weeks,” Lena says. “If I run out of clothes, I’ll just traipse around in my underwear.”
“Can you believe her?” Mom says, turning to me with a smile.
I push away my stampeding thoughts and return her smile, shaking my head with a giggle. “Yes, yes I can. She’s been like this ever since we were kids. But if you look at my suitcase, you’ll find a picture of perfect order.”
“I raised you right,” Mom says, with another of her wicked grins.
Then she flinches and turns to Lena. Lena’s smile has dropped.
For a second, I wonder what she’s thinking. And then it hits me.
Mom raised me right. But the person who raised Lena isn’t here anymore. We have no idea where he is. He could be dead.
My belly twists and my mind riot at the thought of Kane being dead, of my man being dead…
No, no, no.
Just because I wrote ‘I love Kane Konstantinov’ in my diary over and over again, and just because I wished and prayed for it to be true, it doesn’t mean he’d ever want me.
“I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine.” Lena waves a hand. “Honestly, it’s just the last time I went on vacation abroad, it was with Dad. I guess this trip is sort of bringing it all back. Three years. You think I’d be over it by now.”
“Lena.” I walk over to her, placing my hand on her shoulder. “You’re allowed to feel what you want for as long as you want. You don’t have to get over it, or just deal with it, or anything. Kay?”
She reaches up and touches my hand, squeezing softly. “I’m so lucky to have you.”
I try my best to smile at her, try my best to convince myself I don’t sometimes dream about her father. But it’s a lie, a dirty rotten stinking lie, because almost every night he’s there, watching me from inside my mind.
