Everything You Need (18 page)

Chapter 19

Kris splashed water over her face and wrapped her fingers around the curve of the sink, staring at the drops of water sliding down the white porcelain. She hadn’t drunk anything alcoholic yesterday, none of them had, yet when she woke up her head had felt big and cumbersome, as if somebody had stuffed it with cotton. She blamed
him
and his
I love you
. Just remembering him saying those words, heaviness wedged in her throat. It felt so special, the words, the way he had said them, the way his eyes had glinted, as if he really meant it. Her hold on the sink tightened and her knuckles turned white. She knew better.

She released the sink and straightened. Even if he had meant it, was his love strong enough to bear her preoccupation with her mother? In the past, she had heard a declaration of love and received a promise of support, but in the end Peter hadn’t loved her enough to stick with her, and their love had crumbled like a dry leaf under a shoe. She couldn’t blame him. She dabbed her face with a towel Camden had left for her on the shelf by the sink. She would have preferred to wake up in her own bed, but they had insisted that she sleep over at Camden’s, so that they could have breakfast together. Since Callie’s boyfriend had picked her up, Callie managed to get out of it, but Kris didn’t have a good enough excuse.

She opened the door and the sound of muted voices drifted across the hallway. She stopped to listen. She could hear two voices, a male and a female; Camden’s and Rose’s, mostly likely. It was eight o’clock in the morning and she had thought nobody would be up yet, and that she would be able to sneak home unnoticed. That was out of the question now. She strolled toward the kitchen, glancing at her simple t-shirt and pyjama pants. Should she go and change? No, they probably wouldn’t bat an eye at the grey and pink lambs that dotted her pants.

“You don’t even know the girl,” Kris could distinguish Rose’s mumble. “They could be made for each other, and you two should support him, not plan to keep them apart.”

Kris was already at the open door of the kitchen.

“Are you certain you heard him right?” said Camden, but his voice sounded slightly hoarser than usual.

Kris peered inside. The voice she had thought belonged to Camden actually belonged to Kalen, who stood by the stove, with his back to the door. She sniffed the air, catching the scent of burning oil. What was it, waffles or pancakes?

“Yes, I told him -- Oh, good morning,” Camden greeted her. He and Rose sat behind a round table set for four. A glass pitcher filled with orange juice, a carton of milk and a coffee pot were in the middle of the table, beside them a basket of bread, a small plate with butter and jar of marmalade. He pushed the coffee pot toward the empty space beside Rose. “And there’s juice.” He pointed at the glass pitcher.

“Thank you.” She slid into the chair beside Rose and poured coffee into the cup, then added milk.

Rose, who was pillowing her head in her arms, opened one eye and muttered. “Good morning.”

“How did you sleep?” Camden asked.

“Well.”

“Are you hungry?” Kalen glanced at her over his shoulder.

“A little”

“We have pancakes,” Kalen said.

“Pancakes sound good.” Kris expected the two men to continue with their conversation, but they didn’t. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Not really,” Camden said.

“They were just gossiping.” Rose opened her eyes.

Kris glanced at Camden, her mouth curled upwards. “Not Camden, I’m sure.”

“He’s the worst.” Rose snorted and lifted her head. “They were really having a go at Ash. You know, Kalen’s childhood friend, I think I mentioned him. He’s the one with a gallery in the old town, on Fourth Street. You should check it out sometime, he’s an artist --”

“Who said that we were talking about Ash?” Camden said.

The gallery on the Fourth Street? Ashton lived in the studio on Fourth Street. What were the chances that the owner of the gallery above which Ashton had his studio was named Ash?

“What? Just because you two didn’t use his name, you thought I wouldn’t get it? How stupid do you think I am?” Rose glared at Camden for a few seconds before she turned to Kris, her scowl fading. “You should go there, to his gallery, his paintings and sculptures are really great, some sort of fantasy. They are dark and slightly surreal, but beautiful.”

“Rose, sweetheart, I don’t think Kris is interested in my friend’s life or his work,” Kalen said in a soft voice as he slid a plate of pancakes on the table.

They are dark and slightly surreal -- Ash was Ashton! And a good friend of Kalen!
Over Rose’s head, Kris’s eyes found Kalen’s. There was something in his eyes before he averted his gaze, something --
He knows! He knows about me, about us
. Her gaze glided to Camden. He knew too, and he had to have learned about it that time she had told him the name of the artist for whom she modelled. Why hadn’t he said anything?

Camden gave her a smile, but it looked strained and false.

Kris returned the smile, pretending nothing had happened, but Rose’s words, which she heard on entering the kitchen, echoed in her head.
They could be made for each other and you two should support him, not plan to keep them apart
. Ashton owned the gallery, he must be a very successful artist; that, or he came from a wealthy family that was willing to support his passion. Either way he was on a completely different level to her. Of course, Camden, who thought that she had her mother in a sanatorium, and who knew that Ashton gave her money, didn’t think she was good enough for their friend. She tried to be angry and she tried to be insulted, but she couldn’t blame them. In their place, she would probably feel the same. ‘You and your mother are like two parasites,’ Peter had said to her. It hurt, hearing that Peter had such an opinion of her, but the words that he had said in the heat of anger could be applied to her now, since she was using Ashton so her mother could stay in rehab.

After breakfast, Rose and Kalen returned to her apartment, while Kris went to change into her clothes and pack for home. She was in the guest bedroom, stuffing her things into a bag, when Camden appeared at the door.

“Are you really going to leave without saying anything?”

“I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.” She zipped the bag closed.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“No?” She faced him.

He walked into the room and sat on the bed. “What about Ash?”

“What about Ash?” She hung her bag on her shoulder.

“You are not mad because I know him and I didn’t tell you?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“You are not going to ask me why I kept quiet?”

“No.”

“Aren’t you curious?”

“Would you even tell me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Since you don’t want us to be together.”

He pressed his mouth together. “You heard that, huh?”

“Yes.”

“It’s better for you if you stay away from him.”

She had heard something similar before. “I see.”

“He’s no good. He uses girls and then tosses them away.”

She had heard that too. It was something Ashton had told her himself; he had worded it differently, though.

“You don’t believe me?”

Camden didn’t lie, everybody knew that. He might have been able to withhold the truth or reply to the question ‘does my butt look big in these pants’ with a white lie, but otherwise he didn’t lie, not about important things. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I don’t want you to end up hurt.”

But it was already too late; she was already hurt, even though she couldn’t figure out why. She had entered into the fling with Ashton with open eyes and without expectations, knowing full well that their relationship would end at the end of their modelling sessions. So why did the knowledge that he loved Mary and that he was lying to her hurt, especially since she had lied to him too? And why did she feel the need to defend him right now? “He warned me what he was like.”

“Did he tell you that you look like his dead girlfriend, too?”

“Kate’s dead?” She had thought... what had she thought? That there were circumstances that prevented them from being together, something along the lines of a long-distance relationship that hadn’t worked out, that Ashton had done something stupid which Kate couldn’t forgive, or, as far-fetched as it sounded, Kate had gotten bored with Ashton and dumped him.

“He told you about her?” Camden sounded surprised.

“Not that she’s dead, just...” She had seen a sketchbook filled with drawings of Kate and he had felt the need to explain.

“Don’t you care that he’s with you only because of the way you look?”

She shrugged. What did it matter if she cared or not? At that time she had already been under his spell, and to break it, she would have had to walk away. But since she had taken his money, that wasn’t an option.

He frowned. “I don’t get you.”

He didn’t sound as if he was against their relationship because he thought that she was unworthy of Ashton; actually, he sounded more like he was worried about her. “Why do you sound as if you dislike him? He’s your friend, isn’t he?”

“He’s Kalen’s friend, not mine.” He crossed his arms. “It not that I dislike him, not really, I only dislike his behaviour with girls.”

Kris readjusted the strap of her bag. “But you don’t dislike anybody.” She shifted backwards until she bumped against the chest of drawers. She leaned on it and set the bag beside her.

“He’s a great guy, but he’s messed up. Self-destructive and selfish, leaving broken hearts in his wake. He’s not good for anybody, not even himself.”

She laced her fingers and fixed her gaze on them. He wasn’t selfish with her; at least it didn’t feel like it. Actually, he was quite considerate.

“He hurt one of my friends really badly. She didn’t want to be with him, but he pursued her, promising her the world, until she yielded, just to cast her aside after she slept with him.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“She came to me, devastated by his behaviour. After all the promises, he refused to have anything to do with her, and she hoped I could do something about it. I faced him and he denied everything, saying that she was the one who had hit on him, not the other way around. He said that he told her before she climbed into his bed, that sex is the only thing she’d get, but she said that she didn’t’ care.” He pressed his lips together.

“I don’t understand,” Kris spoke up. “He could get laid with just a lift of his finger, why would he waste his time on somebody unwilling?” That didn’t sound like the Ashton who had warned her that he might not remember her face the next day, and told her that he wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want to and then stuck to that promise.

“Because she was beautiful, funny and smart.” Camden’s eyes softened. “She was such an angel.”

“You were in love with her?”

“I might have had a crush on her.”

That was why he believed her side and not Ashton’s, and that was why he had such a low opinion of him. Which meant that anything that was said between them wouldn’t reach Ashton’s ears. She could ask Camden questions and Ashton would never know. “Did you know Kate?”

“She was my older sister.”

“You never told me.” But it explained all of those inquisitive glances he had cast her way when she had first started to work at The Delight. She lifted her hips and slid backwards until she sat on the chest of drawers. “What was she like?”

“You know those people who turn heads and light up every room they walk into?”

She nodded.

“She was like that. People adored her. We all did, even though she was spoiled and demanding.” A sad smile appeared on his face. “And bossy, she was so bossy. Just because she was the oldest, she treated the rest of us like her minions. But we liked to be her minions and do things for her. Except Ash.” He chuckled, leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “He was our neighbour, and he and Kalen were two peas in a pod. If they weren’t at our place, they were at Ash’s. Ash’s refusal to listen to Kate’s orders infuriated her, and she was constantly on his case. It was fun to watch.”

“I can imagine.”

“I don’t know when they fell for each other, but I think they started dating when Ash was thirteen. They were so in love, always holding hands and giving each other those sickening sweet glances. I thought they would get married at twenty and buy a house with a white picket fence. They would have built an art studio in the garage, had kids, and organized picnics for the whole family in the summers, and lived happily ever after.”

“What happened? Or is this too personal?”

“No, it’s okay.” Camden rubbed his eyes before propping his elbows on his knees again. “She got sick. I didn’t know for a long time. It was when she was nineteen -- she was a year older than Ash and Kalen. I noticed something was wrong when she started to lose her hair, but I only learned what it was all about when she and Ash had one of their fights. She wanted to break up with him, because she didn’t want him to see her in such a bad state, and he always calmly replied that he loved her for who she was, not because of how she looked. He stayed with her until the end, refusing to leave her side.”