After Ben dropped her off, she called Kalen's cell phone. He answered on the first ring.
“What are you doing?” she said, keeping her tone as neutral as she could manage. “I need to see you.”
“Sure, babe. I'll come get you. Be right there.”
In Samantha’s absence, Veronica had welcomed yet another new fellow into her mother’s home and her son’s life. Russell, an unsmiling, bearded chap with a shaved head and an earring, possessed a cold and superior air about him. When she entered the living room, he gave her a stiff nod, then returned to the newspaper in his lap. He displayed no reaction to Henry whatsoever, paying more heed to Lily than to the boy, or to any of them, for that matter. Cash shrugged at Samantha and rolled his eyes when they passed each other in the kitchen. At least she wasn't the only one who found him aloof.
She found Darlene in the basement tackling a small mountain of laundry.
“Just think,” Samantha said with a grin. “If the power never came back, you could’ve taken a holiday from the laundry, the ironing, and vacuuming and cooking. Your back any better?”
“Much better, now, since the Tylenols worked their magic. Mr. Congeniality still here?” She gave an exaggerated shudder when Samantha said yes. “Good gracious, where does she find these characters? Oh, how did things go with Ben?”
Samantha shook her head. “Have your talk with Ronnie, Momma. As soon as you can.”
Darlene arched her eyebrows. “I intend to, honey. I don't like this situation any more than Ben does.”
When Kalen's hatchback roared up next to the curb, Samantha saw he wasn't alone. His bandmate, Gerry, sprung out of the front seat and climbed into the rear to oblige her. She murmured a hello to them both as she fastened her seatbelt.
Kalen gave her a lazy smile. “Dropping off Gerry at his mom's first. Then we'll go to my place.” He turned up the Barenaked Ladies song on the radio, tapping the steering wheel in time to the throbbing riff of the bass guitar.
Samantha remained closemouthed, thinking there would be no reason to go to his place after she said what needed saying. She didn't want to spend one minute longer with this two-timing playboy. I guess I was wrong about his endless loyalty to me, she thought, despondent.
As the anxiety built up inside her, she wished the imminent scene that played out in her mind was finished and behind them. She loathed any type of confrontation. It always left her tense, worn out, and headachy.
They drove into a subdivision and slowed to a stop in front of one of the cookie-cutter vinyl-sided homes, tires crunching the icy slush by the curb. Samantha leaned ahead to allow Gerry out of the two-door car.
“Later, man,” he said to Kalen. “See ya ‘round, Samantha.” He waved and disappeared inside the house as they pulled away.
“Something on your mind?” Kalen asked, turning off the radio.
“Can we park? I have to talk to you. We don’t need to go anywhere else.”
He nodded, driving in silence until a mini-mart came into view. He swung into the empty lot and switched off the ignition. “What is it, Sam?”
She took a deep breath. “I want to break up.”
“What?” He gaped at her. “Where did this come from?”
“I want to date other people, that’s all.”
“But why now? Did I do something wrong? I thought we were getting on great!”
Oh, boy. She was tempted to let him have all her pent-up anger then. Instead, she opened her shoulder bag. She took out the box with the silver chain and the pouch containing the digital camera he had given her for Christmas, laying them on the console between them.
Kalen stared at the gifts, his face dropping. “Don't do this. Please?”
Her distress mounted at the catch in his voice and the world-weary look in his eyes of someone who’d been wounded too many times before.
He reached out for her hand. “Tell me who it is. Who’s the guy you want to date? I thought we were more solid than that.”
She couldn't hold the truth in any longer. “So did I, until I caught you playing around with another girl last night!” She bit her lip and swore at herself, pulling her hand away.
“What girl? Where?”
“At O'Connor's Pub. I don't know who the devil she is.”
“Oh! You mean Roxanne? She's a girl I used to go out with last year. We ran into each other. I called your house when practice got over early, but no one answered.”
“So, she served as a good substitute? She acted pretty cozy for an ex-girlfriend.”
“She still likes me, Sam, it’s true. But to me, she’s just a friend, I swear! I stopped in for a beer on the way home and she insisted on buying me one. Wait. What were you doing there?”
“Allison and her fiancé are in town and they tracked me down at Bambury’s. We went to O’Connor’s for a drink after we had supper together.”
Kalen nodded, reaching for her hand again. “I missed you last night. I should have brought you to practice, then none of this foolishness would’ve happened. Please, babe. Don't break up with me over this. Nothing happened between Roxanne and me.” He leaned toward her and pressed her hand to his lips. “I wish I’d known you were there. I'm crazy 'bout you.”
Was she mistaken about what she’d seen? Had she made an error and misjudged the situation because of her overly sensitive emotions? She didn’t know what to believe.
He left a small trail of warm, tender kisses from the back of her hand to her inner wrist, then his face moved closer to hers, a tiny tear stain high on his cheek. A blaze of desire flared up inside her chest and groin at the gentleness of his breath and the soft warmth of his lips on her skin. As hard as she tried to battle against it, her resolve was weakening.
“Give me another chance. I won't let you down, doll. Please come home with me. I'll show you how much I mean it. You know you want to.”
She glared at him, mute. Did he consider her a complete and utter pushover? Did he think her that naïve? That gullible? Or did he know her better than she knew herself?
“Let me make you happy again. Please?” His mouth formed a small but adorable pout as he caressed her face with half-closed eyes.
Within the span of an hour, they were back in his bed, his impassioned kisses driving her to distraction. His lips and the sight of his bare, lean body sent hot tingles all over her.
Samantha was amazed at how her own body could betray her into taking him back. What kind of a woman was she? Did this make her a celibate-turned-floozy? But she did believe what he said, and thought maybe she’d spoken in haste about ending it. Clearly, she still had desires for him. It was useless to deny it.
Raising himself up to lean on one elbow, he smiled down at her. He trailed the tips of his fingers from her cheek, down the middle of her chest, over her abdomen to her pubic bone. Without a word, his warm mouth followed the same path, tracking an invisible line down to the center of her womanhood. She gasped with pleasure, shocked at her instant response as she arched to meet him. Her breath grew shallow and ragged as she grabbed his hair, holding on for the sumptuous wave about to overtake her. As she reached her peak, she cried out, her toes curling, her entire body bucking and trembling.
Before she fully came down to earth, he moved on top of her, easing his weight against her, possessing her with a force he'd never shown before. Molding her shape to his, she thought she had died and gone to heaven, imagining how she would love to stay here with him, close to him, full of him forever. For the second time, the excitement built from the depths of her body, escalating, taking over until they climaxed together, riding out the crest of the wave until they collapsed in a heap on the damp, wrinkled sheet that had torn loose from the queen size mattress.
“That was epic,” she whispered.
“Sufficient, then?” he asked, flipping over flat on his back, breathing hard.
She rolled off the bed onto unsteady feet. “For now,” she said with a giggle, before escaping on wobbly legs to the bathroom to pee a
nd freshen up.
Washing her hands and splashing herself with tepid water, she caught a glimpse of her flushed appearance in the mirror. Her wide green eyes peered back at her, dusky and smoldering, her pupils fully dilated. Her lips were plump, almost as if bruised from Kalen's kisses. A rash had formed on her chin and neck from his rough stubble, and her straightened hair was disheveled, beginning to kink from sweat.
She gave herself an impish pout. Her reflection made her appear wanton and reckless, but at the same time, she had never considered herself more desirable. More beautiful. Or more alive.
When she padded back into the bedroom, Kalen was nowhere to be seen. Then she heard him talking on his phone in the living room. Pulling on her clothes, she went to join him.
“I’m down with that, man. How 'bout I meet you?” He held up an index finger to Samantha as he listened. “Perfect. See you in a few minutes.” He flipped the phone shut. “I have to run a quick errand, babe. Can you sit tight here until then? While I'm gone, decide where you'd like to eat later.” He pushed his arms into a leather bomber jacket. “Have to get something in the basement. I'll go out that way.”
After he left, Samantha straightened the bedroom, deciding to change the sheets. She found a clean set in the hall linen closet, and when she finished making up the bed, she gathered up the soiled set and brought it downstairs to the laundry area in the basement.
Once she set the washer going, she wandered around, wondering where Kalen might keep a laundry basket. In spite of the cold, the sun cast its brilliance through the above-ground windows, and she thought she’d seen a clothesline out back earlier. Pins too, in a bag hooked onto the clothesline wheel.
But on further inspection, she couldn’t find a basket. It must be upstairs somewhere, in one of the closets, she guessed. Or Kalen didn’t own a laundry basket, she thought, smiling to herself. About to go up, she spied a tall, hardwood compartment against the concrete wall opposite the windows and near the staircase. It looked like an old wardrobe with double doors. A rusty padlock was shackled to the narrow pull handles. Curious for a moment about what lay inside, she shrugged and went back upstairs.
True to his word that his errand would be quick, Kalen returned. When Samantha saw his rigid expression, she knew something bothered him.
“What's wrong?” she asked as he took off his jacket. He hung it in the closet before he answered her.
“I bumped into Ben Swift.” He stared her down, his arms crossed in front of his chest. The muscles in his upper arms strained against the thin cotton of his shirt.
“Oh yeah,” Samantha replied. “I meant to tell you he came here for midterm break,” she lied. For a capital city, St. John's was such a small town sometimes, she realized.
“He told me you were together earlier today,” he said, his tone curt, his attitude cold and unreadable. “Did that slip your mind too?”
More than anything, she wondered if he’d told Ben what she had wanted to keep secret – that she and Kalen were involved. “He came to see Henry and then asked me to visit an art show with him. No big deal.” She turned away, plopping down on the sofa.
“This why you wanted to break up with me? Because of him?”
“No! I told you why I got upset with you. Curly-Locks, remember?” Wrestling to keep her defensive tone under control, she crossed her own arms and glowered right back at him. She tilted her chin up, pointing it at him in accusation.
“Well, I told him you were my girlfriend, something you neglected to do. Or chose to hide from him. He seemed quite amazed. Shocked, even!”
Samantha cursed to herself. She hated how much his words upset her, though she wasn’t exactly sure why.
Kalen sat facing her and leaned forward. “Are you wishing you were with him again?”
“Give me a break, Kalen! He and I have a history, or have you forgotten?” She gnawed again on the inside of her cheek, noting when she ran her tongue over it how ragged the flesh had become. “He's flying back to Halifax a week from tomorrow. You needn’t make a fuss about it.”
“Then why didn't you think to tell him about us?”
“I was ticked off with you then. Why do you keep ignoring that?”
“Alright. Alright! I don't want to talk about Ben anymore. I'm getting a shower.” He stomped off to the bedroom. A minute later she heard the water running.
She remembered the sheets to be hung out. She went to the bedroom closet and found the laundry basket sitting on the floor.
Turning to go to the basement, she tripped over his belted jeans on the floor where he had stepped out of them. Steadying herself and swearing under her breath, she looked down to see what had spilled out of his pocket when she’d kicked them. A yellow Bic lighter. Some loose change. And a fat, loose curl of bills, spiralling across the Berber pile carpet.
It looked like thousands of dollars.
Chapter Thirteen
“Conquer the demon of jealousy, that dragon which slays love under the pretence of keeping it alive.”
― Havelock Ellis, Little Essays of Love and Virtue
She sat waiting on the bed when he emerged from the ensuite bathroom, stark naked and still dripping from the shower. Blotting his long, wet hair with a towel, he startled visibly when he saw her.
“Cripes, you scared me,” he said, laughing, tucking the towel around his waist.
“Why do you carry around so much cash?” she asked. “And where did it come from?”
He blinked at his discarded jeans on the floor, where Samantha had tripped up in them. He scooped them up first, then gathered up the thick scatter of bills, balling them up and tossing them into the top drawer of his dresser. He threw his jeans in the clothes hamper beside the door. “I went to the bank today. I hate using debit cards, so I drew out enough to last me for a while, like I always do. Sue me.” He switched on the nightstand radio to their favourite rock music station and turned up the volume.
Tossing the towel aside, he strutted over to her. He fell on the bed, pulling her on top of his warm nakedness, his arousal instantaneous as he tugged at her jeans. “Private Kalen, standing at attention and at your service.” Pushing her hair out of the way and burrowing into her neck, a small groan escaped his lips. “We got time before we head out?”
Samantha gave a weak gesture with her shoulders. Giggling, she allowed him to undress her. The damp sheets in the washing machine, their quarrel over Ben Swift, and the pocket full of money: all forgotten for the time being. While Tom Petty strummed and crooned his way through You Don't Know How It Feels, the fire between them ignited yet again, and her mouth found his.
***
Through thick rivulets coursing like diagonal arteries across the cold glass, a subdued Samantha stared out the window of the coach-line bus. The rain-soaked woodlands and wilds of black spruce and alder bushes lining the Trans Canada Highway whizzed past as the bus took her farther and farther away from her boyfriend’s arms.
She would be ensconced once again in her tiny dorm room at Grenfell in a few short hours. How fast the week had blurred by, she thought. She and Kalen had remained inseparable throughout most of it. She’d tagged along with him to the nursing home yesterday, too, for an hour-long visit with his ailing grandfather.
And of course, she’d gone to watch when he performed with the band these last two nights. Allison and Rex had accompanied her last night, applauding and singing along as Cold Plate performed to the packed nightclub crowd at Rock City. Stiff competition for the Cosmo, the new hot spot had become an instant success when it opened last spring, predominantly celebrated for its spacious dance floor with its own light show, discounted drinks for the ladies, and its equally youthful clientele. The atmosphere there too, Samantha mused, felt as different from Bambury’s Tavern as the sun was from the moon. Not a soul over twenty-five, and she suspected the girls outnumbered the guys three to one.
Several times during the band's breaks, Samantha had to grapple with jealous suspicion when a few tipsy girl
s flirted with Kalen. When he sat with her at their table, they ignored any hint at all that she was his girlfriend, and if they had noticed, they didn't let it stop them from fawning over him and chatting him up. One flirtatious girl with skin-tight blue jeans and spectacular cleavage sat on his lap and invited him to come home with her after the last set. Allison and Rex had witnessed the display, tossing Samantha sympathetic looks when a smiling Kalen did nothing to get rid of her, plainly flattered by all the adulation. He did introduce Samantha as his girlfriend and turned down the girl’s invitation straight off, but anyone could see he enjoyed himself.
Particularly Samantha.
It had been a long night and a trying one for her. After the club closed, Kalen insisted on inviting Allison, Rex, the rest of the band and a few others to his house for drinks. At three in the morning, while she gathered up empty bottles, beer cans and pizza boxes scattered around the living room, she sensed the dizzying aura of a migraine headache converging on her. The stereo cranking out tunes at high volume added to her pain. She wished their guests would go home then, so she could go to bed. She felt dead on her feet. And there were Kalen and Mel, cavorting to a blistering-fast dance number as if the night had just begun.
At long last and not a second too soon for Samantha, Rex stood up and yawned, declaring it was time to go. Allison agreed and dashed over to her, grabbing her in a fierce hug.
“Incredible seeing you again this time around, Sam. I hope you know I meant it, that we have to promise to stay in touch more from now on.”
“I'm all for it,” Samantha said, exhausted, but at the same time, dejected to see her go. Tomorrow her friend would return to Nova Scotia for what remained of the school year. They made plans to reunite when they both came home for their last summer break from university.
At four in the morning, she announced she couldn't keep her eyes open any longer. Her ears rang and the side of her head throbbed, leaving her nauseated. Only Gerry and Mel remained by then, sitting and chatting with Kalen around the coffee table.
Calmer Secrets: Calmer Girls 2 (Calmer Girls Series) Page 11
