by Anne Malcom
Killian’s hand reached over to grasp mine and he pulled it over to rest it on his thigh. I glanced up at him, and he gave me a long look before returning his attention to the road.
There was silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Far from it. It was like we were both bathing in each other’s company, not needing words.
“Where are we going?” I asked finally as Killian directed the car out of town and up an unfamiliar road.
Killian glanced at me. His hand momentarily left mine to change gears, and I felt awkward having my lonesome hand on his muscled thigh. Just when I was about to yank it back, his hand closed on mine once more, giving it a squeeze.
“Wait and see, Freckles,” he murmured.
I screwed up my nose. “I don’t do well with surprises.” I hated surprises. I unwrapped and rewrapped my Christmas presents every year. Mom had yet to find out.
Killian grinned. “It’s not a surprise. It’s a wait and see.”
I glared at him. “Potato, potahto.”
He chuckled and shook his head, lifting our intertwined hands so he could press his lips into my hand. I lost all motor skills at this gesture. I sure as anything forgot about my hatred of surprises. He could have taken me skydiving for all I cared at that moment.
“Impatient are we?” he murmured.
“No,” I replied, my voice husky. “I’m just not the hugest fan of surprises.”
Killian looked forward. “Duly noted.”
I followed his eyes and the structure illuminated in front of us. The parking lot was full with cars, despite it being a Sunday. The fancy script on top of the all-glass restaurant overlooking the ocean read “Valentines.” I’d heard about this place; it was the nicest restaurant in Amber. Not that that was saying much; Amber didn’t boast many restaurants, but people actually traveled here to try it. I couldn’t help myself as Killian parked, my eyes on the crowded tables, but be a little disappointed. The thought of going to such a nice restaurant was touching, but I didn’t want to be around people. As mentioned, apart from a handful of midnight meetings, it was never Killian and me. I wanted those moments of blissful limbo when everything fell away. I wanted them to last longer than a blink of an eye. I wanted it, yet I was terrified of being alone with him, but a good kind of terrified, like the kind I felt when I was on stage on Friday.
Hence the disappointment. I sat up a little straighter. I wouldn’t sulk or make my disappointment known. That would be bratty and spoilt. My mom didn’t raise me like that.
A little tug on my hand moved my attention to Killian. Meeting his eyes, I had a feeling he had been watching me the entire time I was taking in the scenery.
“You good to wait here for a couple of minutes, Freckles?” he asked softly, surprising me. “I would’ve picked this up before I got you, so I didn’t have to waste any time on this date not being with you, but it’s on our way.”
I gaped at him a moment. “You mean, we’re not going in there?” I asked, nodding my head to the restaurant.
Killian’s face didn’t change, but his eyes seemed to harden just a touch. “No. You disappointed?” he asked with an edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before.
“No, I’m happy,” I said quickly, without thinking. Shoot. “I mean, this is nice, lovely actually,” I backpedaled, fearing I sounded like the brat I was determined not to be. “But...” I trailed off, unable to find the words.
Killian surprised me by smiling. “But it’s not us,” he finished for me.
I sagged in relief. “No, it’s not us,” I agreed. It was strange that we could make that distinction when the ‘us’ was brand new and this was our first official date, but that was the way it was.
Killian looked at me for a long moment, his eyes liquid, the hardness of before was gone. “I had planned on going the traditional route and waiting until the end of the date to do this. Fuck traditional,” he muttered.
Before I could ask him what he was talking about and be surprised as this was the first time he had cursed in front of me, he wasn’t across from me anymore. He was there, right there, not just right in front of me, but kissing me. It happened so quickly, I instinctively kissed him back, then got lost in the kiss that was different than others we’d shared. I felt like it was my first kiss all over again. There was everything in this kiss. Only me and Killian, but it was everything. I didn’t know where I ended and he began.
As quickly as it started, he was gone. Not truly gone, both his hands framed my face and his mouth hovered above mine.
I stared at him through my lashes. “Fuck traditional,” I whispered.
Killian’s body jolted at my words, and then he shook his head. “Jesus,” he muttered against my mouth. “I have a feeling you’re the end of life as I know it.”
“Is that a good thing?” I asked.
Killian’s hands tightened just a smidgeon. “Yeah, Freckles. It’s a good thing.”
I let out a breath of relief.
Killian smiled at me. “Sit tight for two minutes, ’kay?” he murmured against my mouth, rubbing his nose against mine.
“’Kay,” I breathed back.
Killian looked at me for a moment longer, and then the air emptied as he leaned back over to his side of the car and knifed out.
I sank back against my own seat and watched him round the hood then followed the back of his body as he jogged into the restaurant.
I touched my lips absently and then fumbled into my bag for my phone, aware of the time pressure.
“It’s over already? Shit, babe, I’m sorry. What a waste of a good outfit. I’ll be happy to deliver some creative form of punishment to his door if you give me the address,” Emma answered.
“What?” I whispered. Then I caught her meaning. “No, the date’s not over yet.”
“Then what are you doing calling me?” she asked in confusion. “Is he sitting there watching you talk on the phone? Lexie, I know you haven’t been on a date before, but you must know that’s a major don’t.”
My gaze darted to the door, aware Killian would be walking through it at any moment. “Stop talkin. I don’t have much time,” I hissed.
“Oh my God, he hasn’t kidnapped you, has he?” Emma asked in panic. “Blink twice if he’s kidnapped you. No, shit, I can’t see you blink. Say periwinkle if you’re being held against your will.”
I let out an exasperated breath. “Em, shut up. I’m not kidnapped or having a bad date,” I said quickly. “I think I’m having the best date in the history of all dates. He’s already kissed me and told me I’m the end of his life as he knows it.”
There was a pause. “Well, shit,” she said finally.
“Shit’s right,” I agreed. “So I just wanted to call and tell you if I’m a drooling mess after having been overwhelmed with... all of this, I love you. And thanks for the outfit choice. He loves it. I think that may have been the reason for the kiss.”
“Honey, it has nothing to do with the outfit and everything to do with the girl inside it,” Emma said softly.
I caught a glimpse of Killian’s jacket in the doorway. “He’s coming back. I’ve got to go.” I quickly hung up the phone and shoved it in my bag. I laid my palms on my thighs as Killian got back in the car. He reached back and placed two amazing smelling bags in the backseat.
His eyes found mine. “You good?”
I nodded. I was more than good.
He smiled. “Good,” he muttered, turning the car on and putting his muscled arm behind me to back out of the lot. As soon as we were back on the road, he snatched my hand once more. It went willingly into his hold. He hadn’t turned back to town. Instead, he turned further up the rise, a road climbing so the hills were on one side, the ocean on the other.
“Where are we going now?” I asked, glancing out the window.
“Your hatred of surprises a reason for that question?” Killian teased.
I glanced back at him, thinking. “No,” I said. “Actually, I don’t really need to know where we�
��re going. I’m happy if we don’t go anywhere but right here.” I only realized after I said it that my sentence didn’t make much literal sense. “Right here” was fluid, considering we were in a moving car, but I meant right here with Killian.
He seemed to get my meaning because his eyes blazed into mine before he turned his attention back to the road.
I reluctantly tore my gaze away from his profile. Though I could look at him for days, I guessed it would be a tad weird to keep staring at him while he drove. I turned my attention to the road. We were high, and dusk was just hitting the sky, turning it into an explosion of colors, with the waves and twinkling sea below it. It was beautiful. Though I liked my previous view.
We lapsed back into our comfortable silence and Killian pulled into a dirt road that took us toward what I guessed would be some kind of lookout.
“Aren’t you worried about your car getting dirty?” I asked him as we traversed the road. I knew how much pride he put into this, that he built it with his dad. He treasured it. It was also clean, something strange for a teenage boy’s car.
Killian quickly glanced at me. “Cars get dirty, babe. That’s life. It’s not clean or simple. You’re not livin’ it right if it is,” he declared.
I stared at him, surprised at such a profound answer to such a simple question. “But your car’s always clean,” I pointed out.
“I clean it,” he responded simply.
I couldn’t help it, for some reason, I burst out laughing. When I found my breath again, I looked at Killian. “I would happily forgo this route if I could spare you the time of having to clean your car.”
Killian gave me another sideways look before parking his car at a grassed area boasting a beautiful view of the ocean and horizon beyond. Normally, I’d be transfixed with such a view, but the way Killian gave me his full attention, nothing else existed. I reasoned I could be sitting in front of the Mona Lisa and still prefer the gaze I was locked in right now.
“Some things are worth getting dirty for, Freckles. No matter the clean-up,” he murmured. We stared at each other for a long beat. “Plus,” he said with a grin, releasing my hand to reach to the backseat. “Maybe I’ll be treated to watching you wash it for me. Got a bikini?” he teased.
I laughed again. “In your dreams, buddy.”
Killian gave me a look, one that made my stomach feel strange and my lips tingle. Then he handed me the sweet-smelling bags. “You take these. I’ll get the rest.”
I was about to ask him what “the rest” was, but he got out of the car. I followed suit and stood gazing at the view, not sure of what I was meant to do with these bags.
“Follow me, Freckles,” his voice rasped in my ear.
I jumped slightly, not realizing Killian had even been behind me. I did as instructed as he led us out to almost the edge of the cliffed area and he laid down a big checkered rug and cooler.
It was only then it clicked. I usually was much quicker on the uptake, but Killian took up all my headspace prior to now. “A picnic,” I whispered. “You made a picnic.”
Killian looked at me, gently taking the bags from my hands. “Technically, I didn’t make the picnic, considering my boy Jase hooked us up with the food. I’m merely serving it up in a different location,” he corrected, pulling containers out of one bag and plates out of another.
I watched with a fluttering heart. “You made a picnic,” I repeated softly. “It’s perfect.”
Killian set the containers down on the blanket before straightening back up. “Glad you think so. Though I’ll admit, I have selfish motivations. I want you all to myself, no interruptions, no one else. Just you and me,” he declared, stepping forward to grasp my hips.
The gesture and the words were amazing and would have made me feel great if it wasn’t for the pressure he exerted in the wrong place, causing me to ruin the moment by letting out an unintentional mew of pain and flinching from his grasp.
Killian’s face instantly turned hard; all the soft disappeared. He stared at me in concern. “What? Did I hurt you?”
I stepped forward, touching his hands to reassure him. “No,” I told him quickly. “I hurt me. I just forgot about it. Don’t worry. I’m fine.” I hoped he wouldn’t take it any further, so I didn’t have to embarrass myself.
Killian frowned. “You hurt yourself? Where? What happened?” he asked in a brisk voice.
I sighed and my face flamed. “I was a little... eager in getting out of bed last night and may have had a tussle with my bedding. A tussle I lost and the edge of my bedside table won,” I said in a small voice.
I held my breath, expecting laughter. When I didn’t get it, I looked up. Killian’s face was inscrutable. “Show me,” he commanded.
I sighed and lifted my top up, still feeling the flame of a blush on my cheeks. I exposed my hip and the purplish bruise above my low-riding jeans.
Killian hissed in a breath as his featherlight touch brushed against my skin.
I blushed for an entirely different reason this time. This wasn’t his hand on my face or my arm. It was a more... intimate spot.
“Jesus, Freckles,” he muttered, his eyes on the bruise, his mind obviously not in tandem with mine. Then again, he wasn’t as inexperienced as me. Such a touch probably wasn’t a big deal to him. I felt a stab of pain more severe than my hip at this.
“It’s fine,” I reassured him. “I bruise easily.” My hands were still holding up my top and I was aware his fingers still brushed the top of my hip.
His ice blue eyes met mine. “I’ll remember that,” he said. “I’ll make sure to take extra care, so I don’t bruise you.” His eyes stayed locked on mine and his fingers trailed along my hip. I sucked in a breath and his eyes changed; a heat entered them, and I knew his thoughts mirrored my earlier ones. His hand snapped back to his side and I let go of my top.
“Let’s eat before it gets cold,” he said in a husky voice.
I cleared my throat. “Good idea.”
Then we ate, spoke little, watched the sunset, and enjoyed each other’s company.
****
“You seriously expected to go to Hogwarts?” Killian asked.
I nodded. “Checked the mail every day on the days leading up to my eleventh birthday and combed the skies for owls,” I told him seriously.
Killian’s body vibrated next to mine. He lifted our intertwined hands up toward the sky. I regarded them in the moonlight with the backdrop of the night’s sky above us. We had long finished our amazing meal and were laying on our backs, side by side, looking at the stars and telling embarrassing childhood stories. Well, I was telling embarrassing childhood stories. Killian was merely listening and asking the appropriate questions.
“What did your mom think of this?” he asked when he had finished chuckling.
“I didn’t tell her, of course,” I said. “She could have been a Muggle. I didn’t want to jeopardize my chances of going to the most prestigious school in the wizarding world just because of my big mouth.”
Killian didn’t just chuckle this time, he boomed with laughter, the sound ringing in the silent air. It was nice. He may have been laughing at me, but I didn’t mind. I liked making him laugh, either with me or at me. I didn’t think he’d had many opportunities to laugh in his life.
“Of course,” I continued, “I came to the sad realization I wouldn’t be going to Hogwarts soon after I turned eleven. When I told Mom a few years later, she was immensely disappointed that I didn’t tell her. She told me she would’ve fashioned a letter herself to avoid my disappointment.”
“And what would she have done when little Freckles had her bags packed, waiting to go to school?” Killian asked, his tone light.
I turned my head to regard his profile. “I asked that exact same question. She said she’d find a way to get us to King’s Cross and watch as I ran into the divider between platforms nine and ten.”
Killian let out another bark of laughter. “Jesus, your mom’s crazy, babe. In a good way
.”
I nodded. “The best way.”
The silence we had enjoyed a lot of tonight descended once more, but I wasn’t eager to bathe in it as I had been, reveling in Killian’s body next to mine, our intertwined hands.
“What happened with your mom this weekend?” I asked quietly.
There was a long pause as Killian sighed and rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand. “What always happens,” he said finally, his voice flat. “The shit she puts in her body landed her in a mess I had to clean up. Though it was not just me who had to clean it up. The club is burdened with her crap too. They’ve got a residual sense of loyalty to my dad, even though he’s five years in the dirt.”
I paused for a second. “Maybe it’s not just your dad they’re loyal to,” I whispered. “Maybe it’s his son, the one who said himself the club is his family.”
“Family or not, they shouldn’t have to deal with that ugly stuff.”
“Neither should you,” I told him, anger bubbling up at the sense of responsibility a seventeen-year-old boy had to his addict mom. The boy I liked. A lot. “But that’s what family’s for. Not just to enjoy the good times, to band together in the ugly.”
Killian turned his head to mine. I could almost feel the weight of his gaze in the darkness. “How’d you get so wise, Freckles?”
I smiled at him. Even if he couldn’t see me, I couldn’t help it. “I’ve just got experience with family. One that isn’t blood but love you like they are, no matter what.”
Killian squeezed my hand. “Steve and Ava? They aren’t your grandparents?” he asked.
“Yeah, they are,” I replied. “They just aren’t Mom’s biological parents; doesn’t mean they aren’t my grandparents. They took Mom in when she was a kid and I was a baby. Gave her a job. Gave us a family. I’ve never thought about them as anything else. Family isn’t about a last name. It’s about a feeling.”