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“At home.”
“Then how are you getting home?”
Shrugging, I drop the store keys that I’m still clutching in my bag. “I walk.”
He stares at me, his jaw hardening. “You walk alone in the dark?” he finally says, his eyes narrowing, getting kind of squinty. The condemnation oozing from him has my back straightening.
“It’s not far, and I enjoy the walk.”
“It’s not safe.”
“I’ve been doing it for years without a problem.” My tone is a bit snappish but it’s more at myself for feeling defensive than at him.
He shakes his head, a muscle in his jaw ticking, staring at me for a few beats of silence. “I’ll walk you.”
“What? No.”
“Yes,” he clips, the finality in his voice telling me it’s pointless to argue, but I do anyway.
“Kallan, it’s really not necessary. There are always people out on the streets, so it’s perfectly safe.”
“All it takes is one dark alley and one person with bad intentions.” He grits his teeth. “Trust me, I know.”
His words give me pause, and we stare at each other. I blow out a breath, and his body relaxes, the tension in his shoulders easing. Without another word, I start walking and he moves around me, striding between me and the road.
“I’m not comfortable with this, you know. Instead of going home after a long day, you’re babysitting me.”
He shrugs. “Nothing to feel bad about. I’m not giving you a choice.”
Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I take a deep breath of the cool evening air. We walk in silence for a bit, my mind racing for something to say. Anything to replace this awkwardness that seems to be between us now. Wondering if it’s just me feeling this way, I glance at him, but his face is a fortress, giving nothing away.
“Why do you walk?” he asks after a few more minutes of silence.
I shrug. “I could drive, but like I said, I enjoy it. Besides, this town’s quite safe.”
“Where I lived, it wasn’t safe for women to walk alone after dark.”
“And where is that?”
“Vegas.”
“Isn’t Vegas like a city that never sleeps?”
“Some parts, yes. Like the strip. Other parts, not so much.”
“Maine is a helluva way from Vegas.”
A door to a bar opens, the sounds of music and laughter spilling out on the street. We watch in silence as a couple exits, arms wrapped around each other as they take off down the street. I bite my lip against the sudden ache at the memory of me and Quinn at the comedy club not so long ago. Shaking my head, I push it down and focus on Kallan.
“What made you move here? Do you have family here?”
He’s silent for so long, that I think he’s not going to answer, but then mutters, “No, no family. I guess I wanted a fresh start.”
My eyes cut to his, and I take in the slight bend of his shoulders and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. I want to ask him why he needed a fresh start and why he needed to move thousands of miles to get it. But with a sigh, I bite back all the questions lingering on my tongue, swallowing them down. I have to stop. I have no business feeling this need to know everything about him. It’s not healthy.
“Not too long now, and it will be time to pull out the winter coats. I bet Vegas didn’t prepare you for a Maine winter.”
I grin at the look he gives me. It’s a mixture of surprise and relief as if he was expecting to be given the third degree.
