At the same time … okay, I’m more than a little curious. Call it a natural part of my personality, that craving for a plot twist.
“In deep with what?”
He winces, his eyes moving back and forth, like he wants to be sure nobody hears us before whispering, “Gambling. We both dabbled in college. Betting on football and basketball games—you know, that sort of thing. Only he got deeper into it than I did. To the point where I thought he might need help, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh my gosh. I had no idea.”
“I guess he wants to keep it quiet. It makes sense, of course. I wouldn’t want to blab about it to just anybody.”
Right, but I’m a hundred percent sure I would’ve heard about this if Hayley had even the slightest clue, which she couldn’t possibly. Which means, if Kylie knows, she’s never told her family.
That makes sense now that I think about it, my mind spinning. She wouldn’t want anybody to know things were less than perfect, would she? Always so dedicated to presenting a good front.
Though I have to wonder what she was thinking, wanting life to be perfect but getting herself involved with a gambler.
“If things were still bad for him, I doubt she would’ve married him. Right? She’s a smart girl. She doesn’t suffer fools, if you get what I mean.”
His brow creases. “He’s not a fool.”
“I wasn’t being literal.” It’s easy to forget sometimes that he can be very literal. “I’m only saying, she doesn’t have a lot of patience with people who aren’t as pulled together as she is.”
He snorts, eyeing the bridesmaids now making slobbery, tear-filled speeches about what an amazing friend Kylie is and how their lives were forever changed when she stepped into them. “You sure about that?”
I see his point.
“I didn’t mean to get you upset.” He takes my hands, which were resting in my lap. “I’m sure you’re right. Everything’s fine with him now. He tells me so sometimes, you know.”
“He does?” If anything, I don’t know why he brought it up at all. I’ve never had that kind of addiction though. From what I’ve heard, it’s not the sort of thing that ever goes away.
It’s always there. The addict has to avoid falling back into the worst of it, is the thing.
So, it’s probably always on his mind. He’s got to stay vigilant.
“Especially during March Madness. He knows I’ll always be checking on him. I can’t not. I saw how bad things got. How low he sank. Bookies … well, you don’t need to know all of it.”
Frankly, I have to wonder if I needed to know any of it. Because, now, all I can do is hope Zack has things under control.
And that Kylie can manage to keep it a secret from her family, if it’s still a secret at all.
“Finally,” Hayley groans, tearing my attention away. “Time for dessert, and then we party.”
Only I don’t have such a big appetite for either dessert or dancing anymore since I know she’d hate it if I kept this from her.
Where’s the line between being a good friend and leaving a man’s past alone?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“I upset you earlier.”
I shake my head with a smile. “You didn’t.”
It’s a lie. Kellen upset the heck out of me. Now that I know about Zack’s issue, I can’t think about anything else.
It’s not the worst thing a person can be guilty of, of course, and I know it. He’s not a murderer. He isn’t violent. He’s a good man. And he adores Kylie.
But she’s worked so hard. Call it an overactive imagination, a by-product of having read so many books over the course of my life, but I can’t help but imagine him going through her savings someday.
No matter how smart she is, love has a way of blinding people to fundamental truths.
“Because, really, there’s no other excuse for a beautiful woman to frown so much when she’s in my arms and I’m taking her on a trip around the dance floor.” Kellen’s arm tightens around my waist.
Giggling, I ask, “You’re sure that’s the only reason a girl would frown when she’s in your arms? You have a pretty high opinion of yourself.”
The shoulder under my left hand shrugs. “You tell me whether it’s a high opinion or whether it’s fact. Don’t pretend you aren’t swooning over my awesome dance moves.”
“We’re swaying back and forth. A toddler can sway back and forth in time with the music.”
“And I haven’t stepped on your feet once yet, have I?”
I lean against him, laughing. He doesn’t seem to mind.
“That’s more like it. It’s our last night together, and I would hate for you to be sad.”
Well, if he doesn’t want me to be sad, he could start with not saying things like that.
It takes serious effort not to react badly. To keep from reacting at all. “Our last night together?” It’s not easy, talking with a lump in my throat.
This isn’t how I wanted things to go.
Though I guess I shouldn’t have assumed anything. I told myself I wouldn’t, didn’t I? I wouldn’t let myself get tricked into believing there was more here than a weeklong acquaintance. A little fun. Flirting.
So, why do I feel like I’m going to cry?
“Our last night here, yeah. Unless you know something I don’t know.” He pulls his head back, searching, trying to catch my eye even though my head is ducked.
I would rather he didn’t see my face. I don’t want to imagine what a nerd he’d think I was if he put two and two together.
“No, tonight’s the last night.”
“I mean, seeing you in the city won’t be the same as it is here, will it?”
And here I am, with my heart soaring. Darn it! Why am I so easily swayed?
It could be because he’s such an exceptional person. The sort of man a girl could be attracted to. To want to know better than a week at a resort would allow.
“So, you want to get together back home?” Did I sound cool when I said that? I hope I did. That’s what I’m going for, though, historically, my moments of coolness have been few and far between.
Hayley knows all about that.
“Am I wrong? Do you not want to?” He looks at me again. “I’ve made mistakes before. There I go again, thinking I’m charming and funny and not too hard on the eyes …”
“Shut up.”
“So, is that a yes? Yes, you’ll see me in New York? Yes, you’ll have dinner with me?”
I could practically float off the floor. If it wasn’t for him holding on to me the way he is, I just might. “Yes. It’s a yes.”
“Whew! I thought I was gonna have to start begging.”
Our eyes meet. I’m so happy; I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face if I tried. Though what’s the point of trying? Why bother pretending to be anything less than thrilled and relieved and, yes, flattered?
“I wasn’t sure you wanted to see me after this,” I admit with a flush on my cheeks. “I mean, no pressure. I don’t expect anything.”