“You need to chill and strategize. Chase might be a douche, but he’s a calculating douche. If he gets a whiff that you’re interested in her, he’ll dig his heels in and go after her with everything he’s got just to mess with you.”
“Lana’s smart. She won’t fall for his type.” At least, the girl I used to know wouldn’t fall for a sleazy a-hole like him, but I can’t bank on her being the same. I know I’m not. The Lana I knew would never have danced on top of a counter in full view of an entire room.
Just like me, she’s changed.
I only hope that the connection we shared hasn’t altered irrevocably.
I leave Brett with a couple of his teammates in the bar. Not feeling it tonight. I head back to our dorm room and call Kev the minute I get out of the shower. It takes all my persuasive power, and a hefty dose of groveling, before he agrees to retrieve Lana’s schedule and email it to me. I’m perplexed when it finally lands in my inbox. What the hell? Why is Lana completing a degree in business administration? For as long as I can remember, Lana has wanted to be a writer. Her ambition was always to study creative writing in college, so I’m flummoxed. I can’t imagine what caused her to relinquish her lifelong dream. And it’s a damn shame because she’s such a natural. For years, I was in awe of her natural storytelling ability. I’ve read practically everything she’s written, and she’s too Goddamned talented to push it aside.
I guess it’s another piece of the puzzle that is now Lana.
I think she’s changed more than I’ve anticipated.
I’m pensive and melancholy as I crawl into bed. Thoughts of Lana invade my mind, and I drift off to sleep with her beautiful face in my mind’s eye.
I have a full schedule the next day, so I’m forced to endure my suffering and wait until later to catch up to Lana.
Seriously, today feels like the longest day of my life.
I duck out of architectural history—my last class—twenty minutes before it ends to make the journey across campus to the Heavener School of Business.
My palms are clammy, and a line of sweat coasts down my spine, gluing my shirt to my back. I tug my ball cap down low to shield myself from prying eyes. I hate how instantly recognizable I am around campus. Although I’m more than used to it—consequence of growing up a Kennedy in the glare of the public spotlight—I had hoped for more anonymity coming here. Turns out, my trial captured the interest of a nation. All it took was a few people to notice me around campus, and then social media started blowing up. The news that the infamous Kalvin Kennedy was attending UF was everywhere the next day.
So much for staying in the background.
I wonder if Lana knew I was here and if she’s been purposely avoiding me.
Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury of changing my name. It wouldn’t make any difference. Short of a face lift, there is no disguising who I am. I’ve never had much of an issue with it in the past, but this last year has been hard. No matter how much Lana sacrificed to ensure my innocence was a matter of public record, people still point the finger at me. Still doubt me.
Hasn’t stopped the groupies from forming though. Sometimes, I really can’t figure out the female race. Girls should be running screaming in the other direction, but the reaction is usually the opposite. It’s why I haven’t attended many parties. I can’t stand the unwanted attention.
The old Kal would’ve lapped it up, milking it for maximum personal satisfaction, ensuring Chase’s current score sheet looked like child’s play. Now, even the mere thought of hooking up with random girls curdles my stomach. Apart from that one time with Shelby, I haven’t had sex in over a year, and while I miss it, I’m not tempted to go there. I have zero interest. Losing the one girl I always thought would be there for me has changed me. I would give anything for a do over. There are so many things I’d do differently.
Brett thinks I’m insane, but he’s more than happy to soften the blow of rejection for the girls I consistently turn away.
At least one of us is happy.
Students start piling out the doors, and I straighten up, focusing laser-sharp eyes on every person emerging from the building. I don’t want to miss her in the crowd. I’m frantically searching the large group converging on the sidewalk when all the tiny hairs on the back of my neck lift.
She’s close.
I can feel it.
I step nearer to the building and then I spot her. Time seems to stand still. She’s skipping down the stairs with a couple of other girls, her head thrown back, laughing. Her entire face comes alive when she smiles. I take a moment to slyly study her. Her usual pale skin is now tanned and glowing, and where once she was boyishly slim, now she’s grown into her body. Although she appears thinner than the last time I saw her, curves dip in and out in all the right places. She’s all woman, and I can’t keep my eyes off her.
She is so beautiful and so completely unaware.
My heart pines for her.
My arms long to hold her.
My cock throbs with possessive need.
I’m striding toward her before I know it, almost running in my haste to get up close and personal. The blonde on her left notices me first, her frown quickly transforming to a gasp of recognition. I’m singular in my focus, and my direction and my eyes haven’t wandered from Lana. She is chatting animatedly with her friends, utterly oblivious to my imminent approach.
As her foot lands on the sidewalk, I slam to a halt right in front of her. That delicate floral smell I’ve always associated with her drifts through the air, tempting and comforting me. At least some things haven’t changed. “Lana.” My voice comes out barely louder than a whisper. Her entire body goes rigidly stiff, and a tiny whimper escapes her lips. Her head is down and she’s studying the sidewalk as if her eyes are physically lasered to the asphalt. Her other friend’s eyes expand, and she clamps a hand over her mouth. “Lana,” I say again, louder this time. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Can we talk? Please.”
“Please leave me alone,” she whispers, still not looking at me.
“I can’t do that, honeybun.” The childish endearment rolls off my tongue without conscious thought. Greta—Lana’s mom and our ex-housekeeper—used to make these delicious pastries with honey and nuts when we were kids. It was an old European bun recipe, apparently, handed down over the generations in her family, or so Greta said. They were Lana’s favorite treat, and somewhere along the way I started calling her honeybun. The name stuck, even though she hated it. Actually, it was because she hated it that I continued to call her it. I resist the urge to chuckle even though I love teasing her. I’m a total dick like that.
“Don’t call me that!” she snaps.
“Sorry. It’s a difficult habit to break,” I murmur, trying to appease her. I don’t want to fight with her now. I just really need to speak to her. To find out if she’s okay. If there’s any possibility she’ll give me a second chance.
Slowly, her head lifts, and she gasps when our eyes finally meet. Her familiar, big hazel eyes still contain the same sparkling innocence, the same little amber fleck. My gaze treks around her face, noting how the smattering of freckles dotting her nose and cheeks has deepened. Her glossy hair falls in waves over her forehead, tipping over her shoulders and down her back. Her little nose, so perfect and dainty, rests on the same silky-smooth skin. Her full lips part, and memories of kissing her surge to the forefront of my mind, making breathing difficult. Things are in motion down south, and I have to resist the urge to adjust myself in my shorts. Drawing attention to my growing boner would not help my plight.
Her eyes take in my face with the same intensity. Our eyes lock on, and I could easily drown in her gaze. We stare at one another, a multitude of unspoken sentiments electrifying the space between us. So much emotion is conveyed in her expression, as no doubt there is in mine. She was never able to shield her emotions from me, and no
w seems no different. My heart thrashes against my ribcage, and my fingers twitch with compulsive need. Not touching her is killing me. Expectation is ripe in the air, and the usual charge in her presence is alive and kicking. I long to close the gap between us and scoop her into my arms. I want to bury myself in her scent, to feel her touch against mine, to worship her lips like they deserve. But I hold back, urging the rampant pounding of my heart to calm the fuck down.
Baby steps, I remind myself. “You look good, Lana,” I admit in a choked voice.
“Don’t,” she croaks. “Please, don’t.” Her eyes dart wildly around, and then she runs off, racing down the road as her friends stand there with their mouths hanging open.
I take off after her, quickly catching up with my longer strides. Gently, I take her elbow. “Please, stop. I’m begging you, Lana. Please just hear me out.”
She tries to shake me off, and I tighten my grip. Her pace slows down, and I ease back until we’re at a standstill. I move her over to the wall, out of the way of the passing foot traffic. Her back flattens against the brick as her chest moves up and down. She’s chewing on the side of her mouth in an obvious tell. Her head tilts up, and she stares at me. I get lost in her eyes again.
Minutes pass, could be hours, and all we do is stare at one another.
I gulp. She gulps.
Our eyes never stray.
Not till she finally breaks the silence. “Why did you come here, Kal?”
“I came for you.” Slowly, I move my hand, brushing a stray lock of hair off her forehead. “I miss you so damn much.”
She swallows. “Why?”
I stare at her incredulously. “What do you mean?”
“Why on earth would you miss me?” Her honest expression stings.
“Why on earth wouldn’t I?”
“Because I ruined your life?” Now her expression is incredulous. “You should hate me, Kal.”
“I could never hate you. Never.” I plant my hands on the wall, one on each side of her head, leaning in a little, desperately needing to be closer to her. “There is nothing you could do that would make me love you any less.” Fuck it. I’m putting it all on the line. “I still love you, Lana, and I want you back. I’ll take all of the blame if you want me to, but give me a chance to make it up to you. To prove I can be there for you in the way you’ve always wanted.”
Her eyes turn shiny, and her lower lip wobbles. She opens her mouth to say something but then closes it again. A little sob travels up her throat, crushing me. I want to envelop her in my arms and soothe her pain, but I’m afraid of startling her. Afraid she’ll run off on me again, so I fight the craving. Finally, she turns around to look at me again. “I did something unforgiveable. We can never come back from that.”
“I forgive you.” The words tumble out of my mouth without prompting, and I speak directly from my heart. “I forgave you last November. I meant every word of what I said that day in the courtroom.”
A tear slips out of the corner of her eye as she watches me. She opens and closes her mouth again. I can sense how emotional she is. I can relate. I’m an emotional tornado on the inside.
Silence envelops us again.
“You cut your hair,” she blurts out randomly. “I like it. It suits you.” I send her a cocky grin. Can’t help it. If this is how she wants to play it, I’m game. “Shame about the ears, though. There’s no hiding them now.”
Immediately, my fingers fly to my ear lobes. “What’s wrong with my ears?”
Her lips curve into a teasing smile. “Dude, if you don’t know what’s wrong with your ears, far be it from me to burst your ignorant bubble.” She stifles a giggle, and my heart soars. God, I’ve missed this so much. Missed her.
“Ha! Good one. You almost had me there.” I nudge her shoulder, and for a split second, it feels like old times. Like no separation exists. Like we haven’t hurt each other so much. “I’ve never seen your hair so long,” I say, deciding to keep it easy-breezy. My fingers toy with the ends of her hair, and she flinches.
“Yeah, well, I haven’t had much time to focus on stuff like that.” She freezes, and her eyes pop wide, demonstrating the full “deer in the headlights” effect. I arch a brow, curious to understand her reaction. “With school and my volunteer work and extra classes, I’m far too busy,” she rushes out.
“You volunteer?”
She nods. “At the local rape support center.”
A layer of tension descends, and my throat constricts. “That’s … yeah.” Fuck. I don’t know how to respond.
More awkward silence flitters between us.
“Why are you studying business admin?” I blurt, desperate to move to safer topics of conversation. “What happened to your dreams of being a writer?”
Her face pales, and she instantly shuts down. Damn me and my big mouth.
“That’s none of your business anymore,” she snaps, and it hurts. “You may think you still know me, but you don’t.”
“Give me a chance to get to know you all over again. I know I let you down, but I promise I won’t let you down again.”
“Those words are too easy for you, Kal.”
“I deserve that, but I’ll prove I’m serious this time. Please, Lana. Please forgive me.” I’ll get down on my knees if that’s what it will take.
“It’s too late, Kal. Too much has changed.”
“I’m not giving up on us, and I’m not going away. I’ll be like your perpetual shadow,” I joke, trying to alleviate the rapidly building tension.
“Please don’t. I don’t want that, and I have it on good authority that campus security takes a dim view of stalking.” She ducks out from under my arms. “I have someplace I need to be.” She starts to walk off but stops. Pivoting around, she straightens her back as she faces me. “You shouldn’t have come here, Kal. I asked you not to find me for a reason. Please stop following me. I’m trying to make a new life for myself, and you’re not a part of that.”
Her words slice a line straight through my heart, and I react instinctively, without engaging my brain. “And Chase is?”
Her eyes narrow to slits, and her hands land on her slim hips. “Excuse me?”
“I saw you, with him, last night,” I spit out. “Is he the reason you don’t want me here?”
She harrumphs, shaking her head. “This is priceless. You have some nerve showing up here like this and then throwing that out at me. Chase is none of your business. Butt out, Kal. I won’t tell you again. Leave me alone.”
“Fine, if that’s what you want, but promise me you’ll stay away from him. He’s not a good guy, Lana. He’s with a different girl every night of the week. He’s an asshole, and he’ll only hurt you.”
Her nostrils flare, and her cheeks redden. “Are you kidding me right now?” She glares at me. “Have you any idea how hypocritical you sound?”
I wince. There isn’t much I can do to defend myself. “I hear how that sounds, but I’m not the same guy you knew. I’ve changed, Lana. I haven’t bee—”
She raises a palm, cutting me stone dead with one cold look. “I don’t want to hear it, Kal. I’ve heard it all before. It was a pack of lies then, and it’s a pack of lies now.”
Her hurt runs deep, and I have no one to blame but myself. “Please, Lana. We have so much to talk about. Just hear me out. Are you hungry? We could grab something to eat. I—”
“It’s not happening, Kal. This”—she gestures between us—“this isn’t happening again. It’s just like you to turn up here and expect me to fall at your feet.” She moves closer to me, jutting her chin out defiantly. “You say you’ve changed. Maybe you have, but it’s too late.” She prods a finger in my chest. “I’ve changed. You can’t walk all over me anymore. I’ll never be that girl again, and I meant what I said in my letter. A part of me will always love you, Kal, but I don’t want to do this. Ou
r relationship is over. Our friendship is over.”
My eyes burn painfully. This is like my worst nightmare come to life.
“You need to leave me alone. I have a new life, and it doesn’t involve you.”
Chapter Seven
Lana
I’m shaking like a leaf when I get back to the dorm. Slamming the door shut, I slump to the ground, pressing a hand to my throbbing chest. Tears pour down my cheeks, and I cry out in frustration. It was so hard to tell him those things. Lies piled upon lies. I know I hit my mark. He was hurting. I could see it in his eyes. But it’s for the best. I can’t do this again. There is far too much at stake.
It doesn’t matter that I still love every fucking gorgeous infuriating inch of Kalvin Kennedy—he can’t be mine. And he won’t want to be once he finds out.
“Lana!” Olivia yells, rushing to my side. “What’s wrong? What is it?”
“He moved here for me, Liv. He doesn’t hate me.” A hacking sob erupts from deep inside me. From the very core of my soul. “He said he loves me.”
“What happened exactly?” She sinks to the floor beside me.
“He was waiting for me outside class.”
“How was it?”
“He … he … oh, God, Liv, he looked amazing. He’s all grown up now, and he’s even more gorgeous, and he seemed … different. He was different.” I can’t deny that. He exuded it like it was something tangible.
“Do you feel differently about him now?” Her earnest eyes bore into mine.
I shake my head. “No. It was all there. I still love him. I still love him so much.” Sobs burst free of my throat, and I give into it, burying my head in my hands and crying my eyes out. Liv pulls me into her chest, and I sob all over her shirt. When my crying fest dies out, I lift my head up, piercing her with an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, Liv. For fighting with you. For ignoring you all week. I’m a crappy friend.”
“If you’re a crappy friend, then so am I,” she protests. “I was ignoring you too, and I had no right to judge you or tell you what to do.”
Loving Kalvin (The Kennedy Boys Book 4) Page 6
