Miles From Kara (6 page)

I walked slowly through the Market the next day, my mind muddled, my heart still aching, but it was a new sort of pain. It was the pain of uncertainty. I had been with Ethan for so long that I no longer knew how to be just a girl, instead of a girl with a boyfriend.

Ethan and I had ended the call and immediately I wanted to dial Colt, like he was the person who would understand the most, the person who could make me feel better. But calling Colt in that moment would have been a mistake. So instead, I made myself a promise: I would go to the Market, my favorite place in Charleston, and walk and think and sulk and likely buy some fun things—because I was heartbroken, not dead—and then when I was done wallowing in my misery, I'd call Colt. I didn't want to call him when my heart was a fresh wound needing healing. I wanted to call him when I knew the call had no ulterior motives, no hope of anything other than a simple chat with a guy who made me smile without even trying to.

Colt.

I smiled as I stopped at one of my favorite handmade candlemakers' booths, a fresh assortment of colorful candles set out, ready to be purchased. I ran my fingers over the smooth exteriors, reading the tiny tags attached to them, promises of wealth and success, joy and spirituality, peace and clarity, and on and on. My fingertips paused at a candle labeled
Happiness and Love
. I lifted the bright candle and read: guaranteed to bring happiness and eternal love into your life. I thought of Colt, the way he made me feel warm and safe—happy. Excitement bubbled up inside me, and I started to hand the candle over to the vendor, when my gaze caught on a deep purple candle beside it; the words
Fertility and Family
stared back at me. Oh my God, there are people desperate to have a baby and I . . .

My hands began to shake. What was I thinking? I thought ending things with Ethan would bring some kind of relief or clarity into my life, but he was only one element of my world, and he was never the one causing me the greatest problem. I read the word
fertility
again and set my love candle back down, no longer feeling like I deserved that candle or the happiness it promised to bring.

“Can I help you with something, dear?”

I opened my mouth to say no, but then the eager look on her face made me reach back down and grab the first candle I saw. I picked it up and almost laughed.
Peace and Clarity
. Hell, at this point I was willing to try anything.

I passed the candle to the vendor. “Just this one. Thanks.”

She packaged the candle up for me and passed the bag over with a smile.

All right, candle, let's see what you've got
.

***

I closed my bedroom door that night, Chinese takeout in one hand, my new candle in the other. I set the takeout on my bed and peered around in search of the perfect place for the candle. Finally, I settled on my desk. Maybe I could burn it when I was studying for an exam and it would deliver the clarity it promised. I lit the candle and sat back down on my bed, gently taking out my takeout containers as I watched the flame dance around. I glanced down at the black screen of my phone and then back at the candle. “You're telling me to call, huh?” I stared at the candle, waiting for some cosmic
yes
, and then found myself laughing at my stupidity. Candle, Kara. Candle.

I took a bite of my food, but I couldn't keep myself from eyeing the candle again, and before I could think better of it, I was dialing Colt's number.

It took one and a half rings for him to answer, and only one breath for me to say, “Ethan and I broke up. I just . . . thought you should know.” I bit my lip, nervous over his response. What was I doing? This was Colt, Ethan's roommate, Ethan's friend. Yet, despite everything, we were something, too. I just didn't know what.

He released a breath. “I heard. Are you . . . all right with that?”

I eyed the Clarity candle. Was it my imagination or had the flame suddenly stilled? “I am.”

I could almost hear his smile on the other end. “All right, then.”

I smiled, enjoying the new swirl in my stomach at the sound of his voice. “All right, then.”

“Kara, grab those boxes in the back,” Tori said from over her shoulder. Helping Hands was running a clothing drive for a local women's shelter, and the response had been so overwhelming that Tori had called me in, even though it was a Saturday. Finals were over and I still hadn't decided whether I wanted to go home. I figured I had at least until Sunday to decide.

I brought the cardboard boxes to the front of the room, sorted the clothing into them, and then labeled the boxes—long-sleeve shirts, short-sleeve shirts, pants, shorts, etc.

Tori glanced over at me with a grin. “You're good at this,” she said.

I smiled back. “Thanks. You know how I am with organizing.”

“Well, if you really like it, I could use your help this summer. I could offer you a part-time job or you could add it to your resume as a paid internship if that's more helpful. College credit and all. I had a girl do that last summer.”

I stopped folding clothes. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. You're a natural here, Kara. I know you're worried about your program, but this”—she motioned around the center—“you're meant for this.”

My heart warmed, and I turned away so she wouldn't see that I was on the verge of tears. It'd been two weeks since Ethan and I broke up, and aside from an occasional
how are you
text, I hadn't spoken to Colt since it happened. I began to wonder if the thing with him was in my head or if maybe he was just into it because I was Ethan's girlfriend and it was wrong, exciting. That sort of thing. So, for Tori to be offering me a real job, here, doing what I loved, felt like I was finally seeing the light after driving through a long, dark tunnel.

“That would be perfect,” I said, smiling. “When can I start?”

She cocked her head and then shrugged. “Monday work? You can do three full days or Monday through Friday, four hours per day. Your choice.”

“I'll do the three full days, if that's okay. Then if I decide to take a summer class, I'd be able to work it around my schedule.”

She smiled. “Like I said, your choice. I'm glad you're staying. And I know one person who will be especially thrilled.” Her gaze locked on the girl coming through the front door.

Maggie. The pregnant teen.

I'd intentionally avoided her since our last encounter, and I knew she must be getting even closer to her delivery, which meant she was afraid and desperate for someone to help her. I just wished she could see that I wasn't that someone.

“I don't really think I should be talking with her, Tori. She's a minor. Shouldn't she speak with someone who's trained?”

Tori studied me. “The teens and college kids who come here often just want an ear to listen. Someone other than their parents or friends, someone who won't judge. You aren't giving them therapy in the clinical sense; you're giving them comfort. And clearly that girl needs some comfort about now. I won't force you to help anyone you don't want to help, but she is seeking you for a reason. Maybe you should ask yourself why.”

***

I made my way outside Helping Hands and down the street, my mind still on Tori's words. I managed to avoid Maggie again, but I knew I was being selfish and each time I avoided her, I felt more and more like the lowest scum on the planet. All she wanted was someone to talk to. I should be that person. I should be strong and put her first.

Only . . . I couldn't.

I rounded the corner, past the old barbershop, and reached into my purse for my keys. I had just pulled them out, when I noticed the person leaving the architecture firm at the end of the square. He glanced down the sidewalk and his gaze met mine. He tucked his hair behind his ear, a small smile beginning to form on his face. Our gazes held as he started for me, my heart ramming against my chest as I watched Colt walk closer and closer to me.

“G'day,” he said, his expression guarded.

I thought back to my admittance that I wanted to see him and his reply.
How badly?

“What are you doing here?” I breathed, unable to hide the excitement in my voice.

His mouth twitched. “My dad knows the owners of Applegate and Long, that architecture firm down the street. He introduced me to them at Christmas, so I gave them a call to see if they offered any internships, and, well, here I am.”

“So . . . you're in Charleston? For the summer?”

Colt took a step toward me, so close I could smell the clean, spicy scent of his aftershave. Now that I was able to look away from his face, I noticed that he was wearing business attire—black suit and tie, crisp white shirt. The look made him appear older, mature . . . tempting.

“Yes,” he whispered, his breath dancing across my face. “I'm in Charleston for the summer.”

I glanced up into his golden-brown eyes and smiled. “All right, then.”

He smiled back.

Suddenly, my summer was looking a lot more interesting.

I lay in bed that night, my phone beside me, my fingers itching to grab it and call Colt. I thought of him being in Charleston and felt my entire body turn warm. I'd never felt such a physical impact from a guy before. It was exhilarating . . . and exhausting.

We had left each other on the street, me peering over my shoulder just to find him doing the same. I smiled and he smiled, and all I could think about was my candle and how very clear everything seemed to me all of a sudden. I didn't allow myself to ask where he was staying or if I could see him again. Not yet. I knew Ethan was leaving for his study abroad tomorrow, and somehow it didn't feel right for me to act on my feelings for Colt until Ethan was far, far away. Until there was an ocean between us, to be exact. It was stupid and silly, considering Ethan and I had broken up and it had been very mutual, but out of respect for him and the relationship we once had, I didn't want to act just yet.

Besides, I didn't even know how to act.

Before Ethan, I'd been with Preston, so the last time I flirted or had any sense of game was when I was . . . fifteen. Fifteen. God. I was going to wreck this in every way.

I slipped under my covers and closed my eyes, just as my phone beeped with a new text. Olivia and Preston had gone to Preston's house for the rest of the week to get some of his things, so I expected to see a text from her with a hello from Preston's mom or something. Instead, it was from Colt.

Would it freak you out if I said I was living at Charleston Haven?

I jerked up in bed, staring at the text in bewilderment.

How?

Colt:
Taylor. His roommate is doing an internship this summer, so he offered me the spot when I told him I'd be interning in Charleston.

You're friends with Taylor?

A smiley face, then,
Is that so surprising? He's a good bloke
.

There was a long pause as I tried to process this new piece of information. Colt was in Charleston Haven. Right now. One building over. It was too much.

Colt:
You didn't answer. Are you freaking out? It just sort of worked out.

I typed out,
No
, then
Of course not
, then deleted all that and settled on the truth.

The opposite actually.

Another long pause came and I worried that I'd said too much.

Colt:
All right, then. Good night, sweet Kara.

I smiled a little. No one had ever called me sweet. Bubbly? Yes. Outgoing? Sure. But sweet? I read the word again, enjoying the way it looked beside my name.

See you around,
I typed back.

I hope so.

I read the words over and over and my heart felt warm. Then, for the first time in as long as I could remember, I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

***

“What's showing again?” Olivia asked from where she sat beside me on our blanket. Preston was on the other side of her, and Sarah and Alyssa were supposed to meet us down here. We'd packed a small cooler with beer and water and snacks for the outdoor movie.

“
The Jerk
.”

I swung my head around to say hi to Taylor, but stopped at the sight of the guy walking up behind him.

I swallowed hard as my gaze lifted up to meet Colt's. “Hi.”

“Kara,” he said, and though he didn't say the word
sweet
before it, I felt its presence there all the same. Warmth spread through me.

“Care if we join ya'll?” Taylor asked.

“No, of course not,” I said, pulling my legs up to make room for them to sit on our blanket. Taylor stood in front of us, searching around before sitting down on the other side of Preston. I expected Colt to sit with the guys, but instead he lowered himself down beside me and leaned back against his outstretched arms.

“So, do you work over by Applegate and Long, then?”

I drew a slow breath, careful to make sure he couldn't see me do it, and then turned toward him. It was like being smacked in the face, like my mind couldn't focus. My eyes couldn't quite control themselves as they drank in every detail of his face. I found myself flushing and looking away even before I spoke, which made the whole thing even more uncomfortable. Fantastic, Kara, now you can't even answer a simple question.

I cleared my throat. “Yeah. I'm a psychology major, so I accepted a summer internship at Helping Hands, the center around the corner from your firm.”

“Around the corner, you say?”

He was still looking at me, as though he knew just how uneasy he made me and wanted to push me as far as I would go. I stretched my legs back out in front of me and crossed them at the ankles so I could be sure they wouldn't tremble.

“Right, around the corner. You can't miss it.”

“Kara.”

“Hmm?”

“Kara, look at me,” he said, his voice low and rough and so, so sexy.

I tilted my head slightly toward him and peered up without saying a word. I tried to relax my breathing, my heart, but as my eyes locked on his, I found it impossible to do anything but stare.

He smiled and leaned in closer, his voice dropping so only I could hear him. “I like the way you look at me.”

“How do I look at you?”

His eyes met mine. “Like it's a struggle to remain still.”

Warmth pooled in my belly, settling below. I opened my mouth, thinking I could be brave enough to ask if he had the same struggle, when Sarah and Alyssa rushed toward us, their arms full of more snacks and popcorn.

I released a breath, both relieved and frustrated that they'd interrupted us.

“Oh, good! It's just about to start,” Sarah said, plopping down beside Taylor.

Olivia turned to grin at me, but then her gaze shifted to Colt before returning to me, her eyebrows lifting in question. Then the movie began and I stared forward, saved from explaining why my barely ex-boyfriend's roommate was here in Charleston, sitting inches from me.

I adjusted the way I was sitting, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms tightly around them to give me something to hold on to. I felt too wound up, my body pushing me to throw caution to the wind, to jump in headfirst, eyes closed, without thought or sense or reason. I couldn't trust myself to sit beside him so closely in the dark. My hands were already twitching to reach out and touch him. Without something to force them to be good, I couldn't be sure where they might land.

I tapped my fingers against my legs and my toes against the blanket to a beat far in the distance, my body's way of telling me it wanted to be there instead of here.

“Are you bored?” Colt whispered from beside me.

“Me? No. Why?”

He motioned to my feet, which were still bouncing to the music.

“Oh, that's just me,” I said, instantly stopping. “My body refuses to remain still when music is playing. It's ridiculous. I'm taking medication.”

He grinned, then peered around in the direction of the music. “Let's go.”

“What? No. The movie's fine. I said I'd watch it with my friends.”

“And I'm betting you've seen it a thousand times, right? Let's go.” He stood up and reached out for me to take his hand, the sexiest smile I'd ever seen in my life on his face. “Walk with me.”

I peeked around to find everyone in our group watching us, and my cheeks burned with worry over what they might be thinking. But still, as my gaze lifted back to his, I knew this was the turning point. Take his hand and go aimlessly into whatever this was, whatever we were, or shake my head and tuck away my feelings, ignoring the spark between us.

Colt tilted his head, as though he knew just what I was thinking, and then before I could make the decision, he said, “It's just a walk.” The words were simple enough, but I heard the change in his voice. He was asking me to take a chance, something I hadn't done in so long that I wondered if I even knew how. Then I felt a nudge against my back and looked over my shoulder to find Olivia nodding for me to go.

I peered back up at Colt just as the music in the distance switched to something slower, more intimate, the sort of song that played in the movies just before the couple kissed. I wondered if some cosmic cupid was out there, watching this moment, deciding for me that I needed to close the distance between our hands.

Colt licked his lips and grinned, and the simple change on his face was like watching the sun peek out first thing in the morning. I couldn't say no. I stood up, wishing I had the guts to take his hand, but I knew if I allowed his fingers to slip between mine, I'd never let them go.

We started across the grass, its dampness seeping over my sandaled feet, leaving tiny blades stuck between my toes. Normally I would be annoyed at the feeling and I'd reach down to brush the blades away, but all I could think about was the guy walking beside me, his head down as though he were contemplating something. If only I knew what it was.

The sounds from the movie fell farther and farther away as we reached the pool, where a guy was playing a guitar and had drawn a small crowd in to listen. Colt reached the gate and unhooked it, holding it open for me to slip in front of him. My body grazed his as I slid past him, instantly causing butterflies to swarm through my stomach. I glanced up to find him watching me, his stare penetrating.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

My heart hit in my chest, reminding me that I was there, really there, experiencing the moment. “I think it has to be.”

He nodded once with a small smile and then touched my back gently as he directed me over to a pair of open chairs in the far left corner.

I expected his hand to drop away once we were safely inside the pool area, but instead he let it slide around my waist loosely. I wanted to look up at him again, to check to see if he was feeling the intensity that I felt, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was afraid that if I moved too fast or shifted the wrong way, he'd remember that his hand was still touching me and would let it fall away. Never in my life had I been so desperate to keep someone close to me.

As we reached the chairs, the smooth sounds of the guitar and the singer's rich voice were the only things we could hear. I sat down in a sun chair, expecting him to sit beside me, but instead he straddled the space behind me and pulled my back flush against his chest. His chin was just inches over my shoulder, and my heart was a crazy mess that I knew he could hear pounding in my chest.

I opened my mouth to say something, when he threaded his fingers through mine and then rested our hands on his legs. “Listen,” he said, simply.

“I—”

“Just listen.”

I closed my mouth and focused on the words pouring out from the guitarist, and each word seemed like it was meant just for us. Words of passion and bravery and hope and love. Words of longing and chance and willingness to try. I closed my eyes as I took them in and felt Colt's breath against my cheek, my neck.

“I want to kiss you,” he whispered, “but I won't. Not yet.”

I opened my eyes and turned toward him, his face so, so close. “Why?”

“Because when I kiss you, I want to know that you're with me. And only me.”

I wanted to tell him that I was only with him, that I had been for months now, but I couldn't put my heart on the line like that. Not yet.

As soon as the words hit in my mind, I realized that he was saying the same thing. He was talking about a kiss and my heart, but they were one in the same.

“Okay,” I said instead.

“But you should know,” he said, his gaze dropping to my mouth, “that every fiber in my body is aching to touch your lips. To taste them. It's consuming me.”

I stilled in his arms.

“But I won't.”

Suddenly everything around me disappeared and it was just Colt and I and his amazing eyes and his words telling me that he wanted to kiss me. How could not kissing be hotter than kissing?

He brushed a loose strand of hair out of my face and then leaned against the back of the chair, pulling me closer to him as we listened to the guitarist continue his love song. I wished that the lyrics would come true for me. Because then I would find myself in this position with Colt again, and the words
not yet
 . . . they'd never enter our minds.