Through The Water: Fairest Series Book Two

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Through The Water: Fairest Series Book Two Page 11

by Myers, Shannon


  Morgan’s expression didn’t waver. “She likes you.”

  “What gave it away?” I chuckled. “The fact that she won’t even look at me—or wait, it was the intense glaring, wasn’t it?”

  “She’s a little shy,” Morgan said with a shrug. “Do you know it took her a year to work up the courage just to wave and say hello to me?”

  I raised a brow. “But she’s your sister…”

  Morgan twisted the diamond ring on her finger before bobbing her head in a nod. “Um, right. So, you can imagine how hard it is for her to talk to strangers. But if you took the class, you could get to know her. Then you wouldn’t be a stranger anymore.”

  “And what’s in it for you?” I asked, waiting for the catch.

  “Nothing.” She swallowed. “I just assumed with the way you were banging on the door, you must have had something awfully important to say. Maybe something you’d like to say to discuss without a bunch of nurses around.”

  I released my crutch just long enough to scratch my jaw and consider her proposal. Anything more than an apology was liable to draw the wrong kind of attention.

  In and out.

  Decision made, I squared my shoulders and moved toward the girl’s room, ignoring the stinging pain in my knee with every step. “You know, if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll just go talk to her now. Let everyone get back to their day.”

  Her mouth settled in a hard line. “But—”

  I pushed the handle down and let the door swing open. “Yeah, might as well get this out of the way. I’ve got a lot to do.”

  At the sound of my voice, the girl hurriedly looked away, but not before I noted the bright spots of color on her cheeks. The mesh enclosure surrounding her bed snagged my attention, and I frowned, wondering why I hadn’t been given the option of a fort bed.

  “Tsega, could you give us a minute?” Morgan asked with a tight-lipped smile. The aide abandoned her post beside the bed, sizing me up as she strolled toward the door.

  “I’ll just grab her a breakfast tray from the cafeteria. It’s just at the end of the hall, but if you need me, my extension is on the board. I can be here within seconds.”

  My mouth twitched at the implied threat. I slowly hobbled toward the bed, taking care to keep my voice soft. “Hi.”

  The girl blew out her cheeks, lifting several strands of hair, but kept her eyes on the window. If I wanted to gain any ground, I’d have to take a page right out of Joe Reed’s playbook and guilt her into forgiving me.

  I grimaced and raised my left foot off the ground. “Can I sit? My knee is killing me. That’ll teach me not to throw my crutches down the next time someone faints on me, won’t it?”

  The girl snuck a quick glance down at the brace before pressing her lips together. She’d effectively managed to avoid looking directly at me since the incident in the hall.

  Just as I began to lose hope, she lifted her shoulder. It wasn’t much, but I’d take what I could get. I leaned my crutches up against the plastic footboard and checked to make sure her feet weren’t in the way before ducking under the netting.

  I reached up to touch the mesh. “Hey, this is pretty cool. It’s like we’re camping.”

  She bit her lip and fidgeted with her necklace, twisting the pendant in slow circles with trembling fingers. In her defense, I hadn’t exactly done anything to warrant her acknowledgment, which was why I’d come over here in the first place.

  I plastered what I hoped was an encouraging smile on my face and began. “So, I know you can’t talk—”

  She jerked her chin up, eyes flashing with anger. Is that right?

  The words were silent, but the hard set of her jaw as she delivered each one was more than enough to convey her feelings on my little drop-in.

  I rubbed my palms against my thighs. “I just wanted to apologize if I offended you yesterday… and also the time before in the hallway. Look, I think we maybe got off on the wrong foot, and I’d like to make things right.”

  While I talked, the two sisters seemed to be carrying on a silent conversation of their very own.

  Great.

  Just swell.

  I was officially never apologizing to anyone ever again. The entire morning had played out like a bizarre dream. At least in my world, things made sense. And that was including the time I’d woken up buck naked on an inflatable flamingo in the middle of Bailey’s pool after curling up with a cask of Macallan the night before.

  My shoulders slumped when the girl snatched a notebook from the table beside the bed and began writing. I imagined I was about to get quite the send-off.

  She held it up, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

  You can go now.

  The muscle in my jaw twitched as I read the words. It wasn’t as if I’d come into this expecting a warm reception, but I had assumed the girl would at least acknowledge my attempt to fix things.

  I massaged the back of my neck. “You want me to leave?”

  She swallowed and jerked her head toward Morgan, a flush creeping up her face.

  “You want Killian to stay, don’t you?” Morgan encouraged, giving her the thumbs up.

  I refrained from pumping a fist in the air, keeping my face blank as I turned back to the girl. “If you want me to leave, I will. But I am sorry—seriously, I feel like a complete ass. Can I get your name?”

  Wait—where had that come from?

  Her jaw went slack, and she began shaking her head. I don’t think—I can’t…

  I chewed on my bottom lip while her eyes bored into Morgan, still trying to place where I’d seen her before. As if sensing my stare, the girl tensed and slowly turned back to me. And, this time, I was the one who had to look away.

  Her green eyes held more than just specks of gold. There was a brief flash of something else lurking just beneath the surface—something I’d missed before.

  Strength.

  The girl had grit, but I doubted if she even knew it. It reminded me a little of my mama, just another one of many women who’d given up her backbone to become someone’s doormat. Maybe my sudden need to make her smile was nothing more than a knee-jerk reaction left over from childhood.

  “Oh, I see. I gotta work for it,” I teased, tapping my finger against my lips. “Alright, I know it starts with an A—Alice?”

  She wrinkled her nose and immediately shook her head, looking like she’d just sucked on a lemon.

  I chuckled. “Give me a second—wait, I got it! It’s Adelaide. Can I call you Addy, for short?”

  Her brows drew together as she rejected the name with another head shake, but the corner of her mouth turned up ever so slightly. It was all the encouragement I needed.

  “Alright, now I know this doesn’t start with an A, but before you reject it, you should know I’ve actually grown kind of fond of this one. How about Girl?”

  Okay. She exhaled softly, letting her mouth curve into a smile. It was small, even by the most generous of measures, but it was there.

  “Yeah?” I beamed. “Well, alright then, Girl. I’m gonna run and let you get back to your morning. How’s that sound?”

  The smile faded, and she pulled her lower lip between her teeth with a jerky nod.

  “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow, though,” I hastily added as I made my way to the door. Apparently, the filter between my brain and my mouth was on the fritz, letting just about anything through.

  She lifted an eyebrow, back to clasping the necklace like a shield.

  “What do you say we get you some food, Ariana?” Morgan asked as she led me out, fooling no one with her exaggerated wink.

  “Ariana,” I repeated with a smile.

  “Oh, whoops!” Morgan smacked her palm against her forehead. “Silly me, I sure messed up.”

  I shook my head and was just turning toward my room when Morgan poked her head out into the hall.

  “Hey,” she hissed. “Don’t forget to take the class. Okay—bye!”

  There was so
mething really not right about that woman.

  After propping my knee up, I sprawled out on my bed with a relaxed sigh, feeling like I’d just sent one sailing over the fence. However, I imagined anyone else who’d witnessed my fumbled apology would have assumed I was now on strike two.

  Still in the game.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose with a low growl. There was no game—no reason for me to interact with her again beyond the usual pleasantries. My slate had been wiped clean. I could once again focus on my recovery and possible contract with the Hurricanes.

  Case closed.

  So, why did I want to see her again?

  “Because you’ve temporarily lost your goddamned mind,” I grumbled. “And your judgment is shit. That’s why.”

  I’d been down this road before. Women who didn’t give their names were typically married or otherwise spoken for. Pursuing Ariana would only end in one of us getting hurt, and my money was on it being me.

  “Let’s not forget you assumed she was crazy right up until you found out about the brain injury either, chump.”

  Exactly.

  Regardless of what her sister wanted; I had no business being in a room alone with her—not with my track record. I’d said what I’d needed to, and now it was time to move on.

  End of story.

  Okay, maybe I’d let my imagination roam free when she’d covered my hand with hers, but it was just because she was an insanely gorgeous woman.

  She was, I could admit it.

  It didn’t mean I was going to throw away my career and what remained of my morals for a night with her, though. I didn’t negotiate on the field, and I wasn’t willing to give up my celibacy for anything less than forever.

  Forever? My throat tightened painfully. Jesus, Reed. Get ahold of yourself.

  Beautiful or not, I needed to rehab and get back to my team before they went looking for a replacement. I was here for one reason and one reason only—to get back on top.

  Maybe if I said it enough, I’d start to believe it.

  9

  Ariana

  “If I could but know his heart, everything would become easy.”

  ―Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility

  “Okay. Go.” Natalie clicked her stopwatch.

  I carefully raised my right foot and tapped the toe of my shoe against the blue rectangular block before switching to the other leg. It was another balance exercise meant to be done as quickly as possible, but my thoughts were elsewhere.

  It was all Killian’s fault, really. If he hadn’t shown up at my door a little over a week ago, then Morgan’s ludicrous escape plan never would’ve seen the light of day.

  Killian is the key.

  She’d sprung it on me while I was still trying to come to terms with the genuine possibility Tristan was a murderer. Maybe I’d also allowed myself a few minutes to relive Killian’s heartfelt apology and the feel of his intense blue eyes moving over my face, but the majority of my time had been spent unpacking Morgan’s allegations.

  Ashlynn’s death had always been shrouded in mystery. One morning she was there, and the next, she wasn’t. Tristan told us she’d been killed while crossing a busy street. He’d refused to give any other details before barricading himself in his office. When he’d finally emerged days later, it was only to call off the small memorial service Aubrey had been planning. Then, it was like she’d never even existed.

  I’d chalked it up to grief at the time, but maybe it had never been anything more than guilt.

  Unfortunately, Morgan’s latest scheme prevented me from giving the matter my full attention. It seemed my salvation was no longer sewn into a teddy bear but resting with the man across the hall.

  She expected me to seduce Killian—never mind that I had no voice or even the slightest clue how to flirt with a man. I also couldn’t look at him without my face turning crimson—how in the heck was I supposed to trick him into sleeping with me?

  As usual, my thoughts and feelings on the matter weren’t taken into consideration.

  While I’d never bought into the church’s views on love and sex, I wasn’t necessarily keen on the idea of throwing myself at someone just because he happened to be the closest available man under sixty.

  Killian had a way of leaving me disoriented and abnormally short of breath when he entered a room, which was clearly my body’s way of rejecting the idea. I’d always pictured myself ending up with a man who didn’t make me feel anything.

  Okay, that wasn’t necessarily true.

  In my mind, I imagined being with someone who didn’t make me feel as though I was suffering from an unidentified medical condition. A man who was gentle and funny.

  Morgan had been quick to point out that I’d smiled at Killian, but there were times I managed to find Tristan amusing. It didn’t mean I wanted to spend the rest of my life living under the same roof, though.

  I didn’t even particularly care about love, having seen too much to believe in fairy tale endings. I just didn’t want to be afraid of a man I was supposed to trust. And Killian, with his sometimes prickly exterior, didn’t instill a lot of confidence as a partner.

  Not that it mattered as I hadn’t interacted with him in over a week, although I’d seen him almost daily. For example, right now, he was icing his knee over on one of the therapy tables—not that I was looking for him, per se.

  I noticed things and people. They just never seemed to notice me back.

  He raked his fingers through his dark hair while looking down at his phone, and I inhaled a sharp breath, catching my shin on the edge of the block.

  Natalie stopped the watch and high-fived my palm. “You seem pleased with yourself, as you should be. That was really good. This time, though, let’s try to move just a little faster.”

  I was doing it again, gazing at Killian and grinning. Getting lost in my head had always been a favorite pastime of mine. The Killian part was a relatively new addition, though.

  He lifted his eyes to meet mine, and my heart gave an unsteady thump of approval, urging me to reconsider my stance on seduction.

  Patients and therapists moved seamlessly around me, in and out of the gym, like the rushing waters of a river. There was constant motion as people fought to regain their independence, but the world came to a standstill when the corners of Killian’s mouth turned up in a grin.

  It was complete madness, but I didn’t want to stay close to shore, not when he looked at me like that. I wanted to abandon my moral obligations and swim into the current, letting it drag me into deeper waters.

  A hand landed on my shoulder from behind, and I whirled around, losing my balance and breaking the spell. Natalie righted me; her brows knitted in concern. “Whoa—I didn’t mean to startle you. You okay?”

  When I nodded, she began explaining what we were going to be working on next, but I couldn’t hear her over the rush of blood in my ears. I tucked a couple of loose strands of hair behind my ear and snuck another discreet glance over to Killian.

  He’d gone back to his phone, frowning at something on the rectangular screen. Yesterday, he’d spent most of his time watching the baseball game being broadcast on one of the televisions, his mouth set in a hard line. I’d recognized the longing in his gaze, and my resolve had weakened a little more.

  I wondered how he’d react if I went over to him. If I cupped his jaw in my palm, would we even need words? Or would his strong hands instinctively move up to grip my waist, fully aware of what I was after? Would he kiss me slowly, or with a desperate hunger like the men in movies? I chewed on my bottom lip, caught between my doctrine and my desire—and not for the first time, either.

  The side of Killian’s mouth tugged to one side, and he slowly lifted his head, meeting my gaze. I suspected he’d known I was watching all along, but he didn’t seem annoyed… or in any hurry to look away.

  Maybe he felt the pull of the current just as much as I did.

  * * *

  I was restless as Tiffani wheeled
me back to my room after class, reconsidering Morgan’s plan in one breath, only to pick it apart with the next. It probably would have been helpful if I’d had some experience with dating over the years, but no one had ever made a lasting impression.

  Well, besides the boy at the lake. But, unless Killian ended up unconscious in the pool, I didn’t see how the encounter would help me now.

  “Oh,” Tiffani breathed out. “You, um—just—”

  I tensed my shoulders when I saw what she was pointing at—or, more specifically, whom.

  Brad leaned against the wall beside my door, tapping out something on his phone. When he saw us approaching, he tucked it back inside his suit jacket and directed his attention to me.

  I’d never particularly enjoyed being under the man’s watchful eye, especially when I couldn’t run and hide afterward. Something about it left me feeling dirty.

  “There you are. I was just about to send out a search party.” His gaze roamed over my dress, the smile on his face slipping when I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Hello, we weren’t informed that Ariana had a visitor, or I would have brought her right away,” Tiffani explained as a flush crept up her neck.

  He had that effect on women.

  Tristan attracted attention due to a combination of good looks and fame. Brad managed just fine without the celebrity endorsements, although I imagined the expensive suits didn’t hurt.

  He spent no less than three hours in the gym every day and never touched a carb during church dinners. His jet-black hair had gone gray around the temples about ten years ago, only making him more desirable to the women in the church. Many had tried, but no one had managed to land the church’s most eligible bachelor.

  Personally, I’d never seen the appeal. Being in the same room with the man only made my skin crawl.

  “That’s no problem.” He paused to give her a once-over, his eyes flashing with disinterest. “I was wondering if I might have a minute alone with her, though.”

 

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