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“I am.”
“And that’s because of your car accident?”
“It is.” It was strange to be in a small town after living in Los Angeles and traveling all over the world to other large cities for conventions and short residencies at popular shops. Seb wasn’t used to people not only knowing his personal business, but also feeling like they had a right to speak to him about it.
“How long are you going to be in town?” she pressed.
“I’m not sure.”
“Your brother only thought he was going to stay the summer and look at him now.” Mrs. Weathersby winked at him as if they were sharing an inside joke.
Seb smiled.
“Got any hot plans tonight?” she asked.
“Just a shower and bed.” He was still recovering from his road trip and then the six-hour round trip to Chicago the day before.
“Well, on behalf of Whisper Lake, I just wanted to say, welcome,” with that declaration she continued on, heading toward the downtown area.
“Thanks.” He lifted up the tray of brownies.
As he made his way up the steps to the apartment two at a time, he actually considered that interaction to be tame, compared to what some people had tried to prepare him for. He was expecting the third degree, especially regarding his personal life, but instead, she’d just delivered him baked goods. Maybe all the hype around the ladies was exaggerated. She seemed pretty harmless to him.
He opened the door and set the pan on the small kitchen table. After peeling back the aluminum foil, he grabbed a fork and took a bite out of one corner of the brownie slab. He closed his eyes and moaned as his teeth broke past the crisp outer layer and sank into the moist, dense center.
This was the perfect fucking brownie. He wasn’t sure if it was as advertised, better than sex, but it had been a long time so he wasn’t sure he could compare the two.
His entire body was aching from his run and his physical therapy session as he walked over to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and downed it. He tipped his head back to drink and when he closed his eyes, once again, she was there. Kennedy Dawes. She was like a bad computer virus and kept popping up in his thoughts. Sometimes it was just her eyes. Or the curve of her neck. The way she tilted her head when she was listening. The freckles that danced over her nose.
It wasn’t just images that he kept seeing. He was also hearing her. Her laugh. Her voice. Her breath. He’d never paid attention to the pattern of anyone’s breathing before, but he’d noticed hers.
He was acutely aware of her entire being. It was almost as if she was operating on a wavelength that his body, his mind, his soul were all in tune with. He’d never experienced that sort of connection with another human being.
Hearing her on the phone interview had been enlightening. He would never have asked her those questions, but he was glad he’d heard the answers. Still, he wanted to know more.
He felt such a strong pull to her. He just wanted to be near her. All day, he’d wanted to call her just to see how her day was. To see how she was doing. He didn’t have her number, but he’d almost called Knox for it. Several times, he’d picked up his phone and his finger had hovered over his brother’s name. But each time he’d set the phone back down.
His life was fucked up and the last thing he wanted to do was bring someone else into his fuckedupness. Without being able to tattoo he was lost. He had no purpose. No drive. He was in stormy seas and she was calling to him like a lighthouse. But he had no plans to answer that call. His plan was to keep his distance. She was too much of a temptation. He’d heard the list of the things she was looking for in a partner. He didn’t make the cut.
After a quick shower, one where Kennedy popped into his mind more than once, he dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist. He considered going straight to bed but then thought that he might try to clear his mind by painting. He’d been chasing the elusive ‘zone’ that he’d always been able to get into with his art and had yet to find it since his accident.
He’d picked up art supplies earlier after his morning PT session and was hoping to get some work done during the next few weeks. Whisper Lake was a fresh start. He grabbed the canvas off the floor and set it on the easel in front of the bay window when his phone, which was sitting beside the plate of brownies, rang.
He picked it up and saw it was his mom calling. “Hey, Mom.”
“Something’s going on with your brother.”
If Seb had a dollar for every time she’d said that or some version of that to him, he’d be a millionaire. Or at least close.
“Can you be more specific?”
“Knox. I spoke to him last night and he seemed…cagey.”
“Cagey?” Seb repeated the same word he’d thought when Knox invited him to go to the city. He was sure Knox was being ‘cagey’ because he was at a hotel with his secret wife on their secret honeymoon.
“Yes, cagey. And I’ve tried to call him this morning and he didn’t pick up.”
“He’s probably just busy, with the babies coming.” Seb couldn’t count the number of times he’d covered for Knox and Keaton as teens. He didn’t think he’d be doing it when they were in their thirties but life was funny that way.
