Playing for Kinley (Cruz Brothers Book 1) (8 page)

BOOK: Playing for Kinley (Cruz Brothers Book 1)
6.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

This was Parker, though.

And I couldn’t just throw him away.

But I wasn’t sure that a necklace could make me so easily forgive him now. Because it wasn’t a mere jewelry kit he had destroyed this time.

It was my heart.

 

Chapter Six

Kinley

 

I couldn’t sleep.

It was the same as any other night that I stayed in this house, whether Parker was here or not. Because no matter how hard I tried, being back in this house always reminded me of him and the memories I wanted to forget. Without fail.

It didn’t matter that we hadn’t said more than two sentences to each other since he arrived. It was like he was in my blood. Which made it nearly impossible to get a good night’s rest. I quietly crept out of my room and tip-toed down the hall to the bathroom. It was around midnight and everyone else was asleep, so I tried to be quiet.

Clay and Gwen had opted to stay the night, rather than go back to his place since tomorrow was Christmas. We usually had a tradition of having a big Christmas breakfast before we opened gifts. Of course, that meant that Parker was also staying the night. He occupied the guestroom across the hall from my bedroom. And when I snuck out of my room, I didn’t see the light on beneath the door which relieved me.

I shut myself in the bathroom and did my business, hoping that might help me get to sleep. Then, I saw Parker’s toothbrush on the bathroom counter and I had to curse myself for once again letting my mind be consumed by him.

It was pretty sad when all it took was a damn toothbrush.

My reflection taunted me in the mirror, asking me why I let a man affect me this way. When had I become so weak? When had I started to let my happiness be dictated by one person?

Too damn long ago.

But I didn’t want to be that woman. Parker wasn’t mine, he was never mine. And it was a complete waste of my time to pine over him and dwell on the fact that he never wanted me.

I’m stronger than that, dammit.

I took a deep breath and nodded at myself in the mirror. I was a successful, highly sought-after photographer, who had been all over the world and captured some of the most beautiful images you could ever see.

I had already dealt with heartbreak.

I could deal with one man.

The bathroom door creaked loudly as I opened it to head back to my room, making me cringe. There was no movement in the hallway, so I assumed that I hadn’t woken anyone up.

Dad had installed lights along the hallway floor years ago, so I didn’t have to feel my way back to my door. I was halfway there when the door directly across from mine eased open and Parker’s huge form stepped out and faced me.

Oh God, I’m not stronger than this.

Nobody said I would have to face
this
.

This, as in Parker’s naked torso, staring me in the face.

He froze when he locked eyes with mine. I couldn’t help it. My attention immediately focused in on those abs, that six—
eight?
—pack.

Geez, he had certainly filled out over the years.

He had been fit back in college, but this was a whole new level of
daaamn
.

His skin was still that beautiful olive color, his chest was broad and strong, his sculpted pecs and muscular arms looked strong and powerful. His entire upper half was bare, his lower half covered by a pair of dark gray sweatpants. They rode low enough on his hips that I could see that perfectly defined “V” that framed his core. And even though those sweatpants were covering them up, I knew that those thighs of his were thick and bulging. Legs of a baseball player and I suddenly wished he was wearing his uniform.

And shit, I was staring.

My eyes flew back up to his when he spoke. “Ah, sorry. I didn’t realize you were up. I was just going downstairs to get a glass of water.”

I nodded when I couldn’t think of any words to say. His hand was gripping the back of his neck, messing up his tousled hair even further. I remembered that gesture being a sign of stress or apprehension for him. Or if he was uncomfortable. He had a boyish kind of grin on his face, like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and was trying to get away scot-free using his charm.

Then, his eyes traveled the length of my body.

The boyish grin was suddenly gone and replaced by something…darker.

Something that was quickly heating the space between us.

It was then that I remembered what I was wearing and all of sudden I felt very exposed. I always wore boy-cut panties and a baggy t-shirt to bed. I wouldn’t normally leave my room like this at my parents’ house, but I’d figured I would be in and out of the bathroom without seeing anyone since it was the freaking middle of the night.

But, oh no.

Parker had to see me
this
way.

And judging from his expression and his labored breathing, he wasn’t about to complain.

That sense of stepping into a sauna took over my entire body and a jolt shot straight through me, all the way down to my core. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off my legs.

“Jesus, Kinley,” he breathed.

I wasn’t sure if he meant for me to hear it or not.

“I-I just had to go to bathroom,” I stuttered and started to walk toward my room.

Parker blocked me, stepping right in front of me.

“When are you going to stop avoiding me?” he asked, that deep voice sending shivers down my spine, his breath tickling my hair.

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“Bullshit.”

My temper flared a little at that and I met his eyes. “What am I supposed to say to you? I think we said all we needed to say at the Fourth of July.”

“You might have,” he replied, his body leaning in closer to mine. I took a step back and he followed me. “I didn’t. Not totally. But I won’t bring any of that up again. I just want us to be…”

“What?
Friends?

He took another step closer until I was pushed against the wall as he once again blocked my escape.

How the hell had I let him corner me?

Maybe it was because you were gazing into those brown eyes, like you did when you were a lovesick twelve-year-old.

“Yeah…friends. If that’s all we can be, yes. I’d at least like us to be friends.”

That statement confused me.

We could have been more years ago but you ruined it.

“I’m not sure we’d be very good at that,” I whispered, hoping nobody was about to come out of their room because our bodies were too close to be innocent.

“Why not?”

I could feel his warm breath grazing my cheek. He smelled of mint and it made my mouth water.

“Because there’s too much history here.”

Our eyes were locked, his searching mine for a better explanation than that. But I didn’t have one. It was true, for the most part.

“If that’s all it was,” he began, his face inches from mine, “then it wouldn’t really be a problem. History is in the past. It shouldn’t affect the present if that’s all it is.”

The past
always
affected the present. And most of the time, the future.

At least,
our
history did.

Before I could respond, he asked, “Is that all it is, Kinley?” I sucked in a breath when I felt his hand touch my waist and caress my side from hip to rib. “Or is there more?” I felt the fingers of his other hand trace my collarbone, traveling along my throat and cupping my cheek. “Are there still feelings there that you’re just trying to ignore? Because I think there might be.”

“You have no right to ask me that.”

He raised an eyebrow. “No? The way you look at me says otherwise. The way you look at me like you did all those years ago makes me think that I have every right.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, anger sparking, though the arousal wasn’t fading.

“Like you said, that’s part of history and it’s in the past. So, it should stay there.” His hands halted their movements, his brows creasing as he took in my expression. “And I did look at you like that once, but that was a long time ago. You had all of that at one time, Parker. It was yours and I would have given it all to you, gladly.”

I eased out of his hold and stepped away from him. His hands fell to his sides like lead weights. I couldn’t read the expression on his face. He looked like he was in pain and…like he was almost lost.

None of it made any sense.

“But you gave all of that up,” I continued. “Period. So, no. You don’t have any right to ask about my feelings or to dredge up old memories. The longer you hold onto those thoughts, the longer you try to revive old feelings, the longer it will take for both of us to move on with our lives. Just let it go.”

Even though I haven’t.

He swallowed a few times before he responded. “Okay. You’re right.”

I nodded, worried that my voice would break if I said anything else. I wouldn’t let myself be disappointed by the fact that he didn’t have anything more to say. I said “goodnight” and stepped inside my bedroom. He was still standing in the same place, staring in my direction when I closed the door.

How the hell was I supposed to sleep now?

 

##

 

Last night had wrecked me for sleep. I think I dozed off somewhere around three and it was now seven. Four hours was never enough sleep for me.

I needed buckets of coffee to get through this day.

Especially if I had anymore encounters with Parker like last night.

I smelled the strong scent of coffee as I walked downstairs and saw Dad sitting in his recliner in the living room. “Morning, sleepy head,” he said, sipping his coffee mug.

“Sleepy head? It’s seven. That’s not exactly sleeping in.” I let out a big yawn just to prove my point.

“I’ve been up since five.”

“Good God, why?”

He looked at me like I was crazy. “That bathroom isn’t going to re-model itself.”

Only my dad would be doing housework at five on Christmas morning. I just shook my head and followed the aroma of coffee beans into the kitchen where Mom was gathering the ingredients for breakfast.

“Morning, dear.” She smiled at me as she dug through her cabinets for her pots and pans.

I really wished I had inherited the gene that allowed her to glow at seven in the morning without makeup or a shower. But the rat’s nest in my hair and circles under my eyes indicated that I sure as hell hadn’t. Give me at least two cups of coffee, some moisturizer, and a good blow dryer and I might look presentable.

“Morning,” I grumbled.

Clay and Gwen came down about fifteen minutes later, making Parker the last one to haul his beautiful butt down and get his coffee. He looked just as disheveled and just as gorgeous as he had last night, even if he was wearing a shirt this morning.

A round of “Merry Christmases” was mumbled through yawns and around coffee mugs. “How did everyone sleep?” Mom asked.

I caught Parker’s eye across the room and looked away quickly before I allowed the eye contact to actually mean anything.

“Great,” Gwen hummed cheerfully.

She hadn’t even drank half her mug. Another one who didn’t need caffeine or product to be perky in the morning.

Gee, that’s the Christmas spirit, Kin.

An hour later, our bellies were full of scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits and gravy, French toast, and pancakes. We went all out on Christmas morning. Plus, we were all breakfast food eaters in this family.

We exchanged gifts and Parker decided to start a wrapping paper war in the living room when he crunched up some paper into a ball and threw it at my face.

My gaze snapped to his in shock, our first recognition of each other since the scene in the hallway last night. As always, Parker had no problem making light of a tense situation. And he smiled at me.

Then, it was
so
on.

I scooped up paper and took cover behind the couch, taking Gwen with me. Parker and Clay were behind the loveseat, chucking paper bombs at us. It was unfortunate that Clay was a former pitcher because every one of his throws hit the mark. Mom even got in on it and crawled behind the couch to help the girls take on the boys.

Dad just sat in his recliner and watched in amusement.

Being the competitive person I was, I refused to name a victor in the end, despite the guys’ insistence that they had demolished us.

Either way, at the end of it, I felt like it may have put me and Parker back on neutral ground. It made me forget, at least for a little while, the incident last night. We had been able to have fun together in the same room without glaring at each other—except for those glares issued in the throes of battle—or arguing and had survived.

Maybe there was hope for us.

Maybe we could be friends.

I couldn’t bask in that new possibility long, however, because I had to catch a flight back to New York that afternoon. I had a short photo shoot scheduled upstate and then I had to go back to the city to get ready for a show I was having on New Year’s Eve. It was a photography exhibit that my friend Ryan’s art gallery was having, so the show wasn’t featuring just my work. But I still had to get my images set up and needed a day or two to do that.

BOOK: Playing for Kinley (Cruz Brothers Book 1)
6.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Queen of the Road by Tricia Stringer
The Courage Consort by Michel Faber
For Kingdom and Country by I.D. Roberts
Third Transmission by Jack Heath
dangerous_lust part_3 by Eliza Stout
BFF Breakup by Taylor Morris
El sol de Breda by Arturo Pérez-Reverte
Inteligencia Social by Daniel Goleman