As the seconds ticked past, the minutes going with them, I began to wonder if I had made up this entire trip in my head. Well, I obviously didn’t imagine Kenny; she was real. But I wondered if I had contrived everything between us. It’d felt so genuine, though. Everything about it, from her touch to her kiss. From her smile to the warmth that cloaked me every time I looked into her eyes. All the way to the feel of her body against mine. There was no way I had fabricated all that. Except it was the only explanation I could come up with as to why Kenny didn’t appear to feel the same. It didn’t make sense, and the longer I sat and waited for her to show up, the more determined I became to find out just how much of our connection was in my imagination.
I started to play out our conversation in my head, anticipating her responses to my questions and statements. It wasn’t easy, though, considering I didn’t know her well enough to accurately come up with what she might say. Luckily, I didn’t have to torture myself too long before she pushed through the heavy wooden door, her smile brightening her face the second she saw me.
“Good morning, Miss Richards. I hope you slept well last night.”
She hitched her purse higher on her shoulder and leaned against the counter that separated us. “Are you asking me as a friend or the resort manager?”
“Would it matter?”
“Actually, it would. If you were asking as Drew, the amazing guy I’ve spent a week getting to know, then I’d tell you the truth—which is, I didn’t sleep for shit. But that’s not what I would say to the manager. To him, I’d say, I slept the same as every other night here—like a baby.”
I studied her features, doing my best to read between the lines. Her eyes were as blue and clear as the lagoon we’d swam in together; nothing about them even hinted at a lack of sleep. The creases along her brow were practically nonexistent, making her appear relaxed and rested, not at all the ball of stress and exhaustion she’d portrayed herself to be. And the crow’s feet extending past her lashes were prominent and deep, giving away her smile without the need to take notice of her lips.
I came up with two possible explanations. The first was that I wasn’t the only one who felt something between us; she was just really good at hiding the effect it had on her—much like her ability to hide her tiredness. The second explanation was that this was how she acted around everyone, and I had misread it all since the very beginning. Either way, I’d get an answer before she left…if only I could recall the things I wanted to say and questions I’d thought to ask.
That entire made-up conversation I’d had with her in my head prior to her showing up had vanished. Not a single word came to me. One smile from her, one glance into her eyes, and one word dancing from her lips were all it took to wipe my memory clean. At least I knew what it was about, though. That was the important part. I could come up with the rest on the spot.
“That sucks. Why didn’t you sleep well? Too much on your mind?”
Kenny dropped her gaze to her twisting fingers on the countertop and pulled her lips to the side for a second. Then she rolled her eyes, stopped fidgeting with her fingers, and huffed. When she returned her gaze to me, she shrugged and said, “Who knows. I was exhausted by the time I got into bed, but I couldn’t seem to drop off no matter how long I laid there. I thought a bath might help, so I tried that. I’d brought with me a few bath bombs, so I dug through my suitcase to find the lavender one I hadn’t used yet. Except, the entire time I was supposed to be relaxing, I couldn’t stop obsessing over whether or not I’d put everything back in the suitcase.” The more she got into the story, the faster and more dramatic her words became.
I laughed, hoping to calm her down a bit. “That’s really good to know, Kenny.”
She tilted her head and narrowed her gaze. “Why’s that?”
“Well, you told me last night that you get really stressed and anxious, and to be honest, I worried that was just an excuse for not staying with me—or letting me stay with you. So hearing about your night makes me happy because now I know you weren’t making it up.”
One corner of her mouth curled just as her cheeks glowed red. It was the most amazing thing to watch, and at the same time, it saddened me. This could very well be the last time I got to witness the kaleidoscopic effect that turned her face from ivory to peach to pink, and eventually, to Ferrari red.
“Nope, it wasn’t an excuse, I promise. If I wasn’t interested, I would’ve said so.”
I nodded, and without thinking, I asked, “So what was your reason for not letting me pick you up this morning?” I tried to play it cool, as if teasingly asking, even though I genuinely sought an honest answer.
“I’m not the warmest or most talkative person when I’m on a time schedule with a checklist of things I have to make sure get done. To me, it made more sense to have someone else deal with that so you could get this version.” She took a step back and gestured to herself as if showing off an outfit. “And I doubt you’d get to enjoy this side of me after dealing with my moodiness.”
I carefully regarded her expression as she answered, and to my relief, I couldn’t find an ounce of dishonesty. “I guess I can’t complain then. As long as you let me take you to your car.”
“I was already counting on that, which is why I had the guy who picked me up leave my suitcase next to the door outside.”
Since this was a walking resort—no need for vehicles—we had a private lot across from the main office where guests parked. Upon check-in, a Black Bird employee would meet them by their car in a golf cart to take them and their luggage to their cabin. And the reverse would happen upon leaving—one of the guys brought them to the front desk to check out before dropping them off at the lot with their bags. So it wasn’t out of the ordinary to assume that whoever had picked her up was waiting out front to take her to her car.
And I couldn’t be happier that he wasn’t.
With a slightly furrowed brow, Kenny glanced around the small room. “Are you going to be able to leave to take me? I probably should’ve asked that first before assuming you could.”
“Yeah…” My own confusion elongated the word. “Why wouldn’t I be? After all, I’ve easily been able to find ways all week to spend time with you. A five-minute trip to the parking lot is no bother at all.”
“Oh, I guess I thought someone needed to be at the front desk at all times. I mean, at least to answer phones in case someone needed something. And since I don’t see your dad anywhere, I figured you wouldn’t be able to leave it unattended.”
I craned my neck to peer at the closed office door behind me. While I had waited for Kenny to turn in her key and sign her check-out papers, my dad had been at his desk, pounding away at the keyboard. But now, I couldn’t hear anything. A small part of me was worried—after one heart attack, it didn’t take much to cause concern—so I held up a finger to tell Kenny to hold on and took the five steps to his office. To my surprise, he wasn’t there. The sight of his empty chair calmed the slight panic, which had come out of nowhere, but it also offered quite a bit of confusion. After all, he was literally just there. I had no idea when he had left, why he had left, and—more importantly—how he was able to leave without me knowing.