Unsteady Rhythm (House of Archer Book 2)

by Raine Thomas

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “You’re welcome. Now tell me why you think Keith reacted like he did to your kiss.”

  She shrugged in embarrassment. “Like I said, he didn’t like it.”

  George shook his head. “I’m not buying that. Not after what you described.”

  “Well, you weren’t there. He pulled away like I had struck him or something.”

  “I believe you did. Just not the way you think.”

  She released his hand to shove at his shoulder. “George, stop being so enigmatic. I told you what he said to me. Why do you think I’m wrong?”

  “I saw the way he looked at you,” he replied. “And the way he looked at me.”

  “He looks at everyone that way.”

  “Trust me, you’re different. He just doesn’t know what to do about it.”

  Well that makes two of us, she thought miserably.

  * * *

  Keith had no idea what possessed him. One minute he was watching Sydney get into the car with Mr. Muscles. The next he was hopping on his bike and following them.

  At least he’d had the sense to call Archer as he walked to his bike to let him know he needed to cut out to take care of something. Thank God they had wrapped that day’s session already. He’d have felt like an asshole if he’d left the band high and dry so he could do...whatever the hell he was doing.

  During the hour-long drive—what the hell beach were they going to, for God’s sake?—he told himself at least ten times to turn around and go home. Each time, his stupid brain replayed Sydney’s comments about him wanting nothing to do with her. He then thought that he should just leave things as they were and let her move on with her life.

  And then he remembered Mr. Perfect Hair putting his arm around her.

  So he followed them until they stopped at a modest home in Newport Beach. He pulled to the side of the road a few houses down. At first he thought Mr. Cleft Chin had brought Sydney to his house. He almost got off his bike to prevent them from entering the house, certain she was about to put herself at risk. He stopped himself when he recognized the guy who answered the front door. It was Lily’s Uncle Ray.

  That kept him on his bike for a minute as he debated what to do. What in the world was Sydney doing bringing this guy to Ray’s?

  Keith supposed it didn’t matter. Ray wouldn’t let anything happen to Sydney.

  Since his gas tank was running on fumes, he decided to head back to a gas station he had seen a couple of miles away. It was a small station with only four pumps, so he had to wait his turn.

  Nearly fifteen minutes passed until he was finally able to fill his tank. No sooner did he replace his gas cap than he looked up and saw the car that he had been trailing driving back up the road they had just driven down. He didn’t think it was them because there were two surfboards strapped to the roof. Then he saw Sydney in the passenger seat.

  Cursing, he started his bike and took off after them.

  Is Sydney taking surfing lessons? he wondered.

  That didn’t seem likely. One of the surfboards was bright pink, her favorite color. He had to assume it was hers. That would mean she actually knew how to surf.

  He tried to reconcile that with what he knew of her. Surfers had to have a little recklessness in them, he imagined, and Sydney was anything but reckless. She was also far from athletic.

  Or was she? He had noticed her well-toned upper body. Surfing and staying in shape for it would contribute to that.

  Maybe he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did.

  He followed them for another fifteen minutes to Huntington Beach. He pulled into the same metered lot they did and found a space out of sight of their car.

  Now that he had caught up with them, he was reluctant to reveal himself. He was dying to know if Sydney intended to surf.

  He soon had his answer. He observed through an SUV’s tinted windows as she donned a wetsuit right there in the parking lot, expertly putting it on over a long-sleeved lycra swim shirt and a pair of bikini bottoms. Within minutes, she and Mr. Even Tan were both dressed in their wetsuits.

  Keith couldn’t take his gaze off Sydney as she assisted with removing the surfboards from the roof. The neoprene suit hugged her every curve.

  God, she was magnificent. He didn’t think she’d look any sexier if she had on a skimpy string bikini. His lower body enthusiastically agreed, reacting like a horny teenager who had just seen his first Playboy centerfold.

  He adjusted his stance and followed them at a distance as they hit the sand. The beach crawled with people. He fit right in with the eclectic crowd even in jeans and boots. He was lagging far enough behind that Sydney and Mr. White Teeth were already heading out into the water by the time he sighted them.

  Finding a spot in the sand, he sat down and watched Sydney get on her board. She began paddling in a way that told him she had done this many times, cutting through the water with smooth, confident strokes and diving beneath the waves in a well-practiced maneuver. She had to go out a fair distance to reach the higher waves.

  Part of him worried about her. Surfing had its risks.

  The other part of him wanted to see what she could do.

  It didn’t take him long to realize that a lot of surfing was sitting around waiting for the right wave. Sydney was among maybe one of thirty surfers out that day. Based on what Keith observed, once one surfer picked up a wave, everyone else steered clear of it. So it felt like eons passed before Sydney found her wave and pursued it.

  He stood up to watch her, having seen enough of the other surfers to know this would go quickly, especially if she was as unskilled or as unlucky as most of them. She paddled with the wave as it rose and crested. Just as the water began to froth under her board, she popped up into her surfing stance, her feet perfectly positioned to balance her on the board. She used her body to shift the board so she rode along the swell of the wave, keeping her center of gravity low enough that she stayed balanced. He was astonished to see her stay up longer than anyone else he’d seen so far.

  He was so impressed that after she ended up in the water again he sat back down and continued watching. Sydney Ward was just full of surprises today.

  Incredible singer.

  Seemingly respectable surfer.

  Some new guy to pal around with.

  It occurred to him that Sydney had told him a lot about herself, but none of it had really been positive. He wondered why. If she had any interest in him, she should have been casting herself in the best light, right?

  Recalling what she had told him when they first started their tutoring lessons, he supposed she thought she was sparing his feelings by not talking about how wonderful she was while he struggled with something as basic as reading. She was always thinking of others, always at her expense.

  Which just made him an even bigger jackass for hurting her.

  He had no idea how long he sat there. By the time he saw Sydney swimming towards shore, the gray sky had given way to an anemic amount of sunlight. The few ragged beams cutting through the heavy air seemed to fall right on Sydney as she walked out of the water with her board. The light circled her like a halo.

  Even the universe was trying to tell him something.

  He walked along the beach to meet her. She was talking to Mr. Can’t Surf Very Well and laughing at something he said. Her laughter faded and she abruptly stopped walking when she saw him.

  “Keith,” she said in astonishment. “What are you doing here?”

  “Watching you surf.” He stopped a few feet from her. “You’re pretty good.”

  “She’s excellent,” George corrected. “She’s even won a championship.”

  Keith’s eyes cut sharply to him, then back to Sydney. “Is that so?”

  “That was years ago,” she said, her cheeks growing pink. “How did you know I was here?”

  “I followed you. I’d like to talk.”

  “Oh.” She glanced at Mr. Bench Press and gave him a loo
k Keith couldn’t read. “Well...”

  “Please,” Keith added, trying not to sound like his teeth were grinding together...because they were.

  She sighed. “Fine. But I want to get out of my wetsuit. Wait here and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  He nodded and watched her walk off with Mr. Glutes. They were conversing but he couldn’t hear what they said. Hopefully she was telling the guy to buzz off.

  He occupied himself with visiting the restroom and buying a bottle of water. He finished it and still waited ten more minutes before she returned, long enough that her hair had started drying. She left it loose, which he liked. She was wearing the aqua dress again, adding a sweater this time.

  Nodding towards the beach, he asked, “Should we walk?”

  “Sure.”

  They walked out closer to the water where the waves provided enough noise to keep their conversation private. As they started in the direction of the pier, Keith noticed Mr. Needs to Mind His Own Business standing and watching them in the distance.

  “Why don’t you go ahead and tell me what you rode all the way out here to tell me, Keith,” Sydney said when they reached a quiet spot and stopped walking.

  Now that he was pinned with actually having to speak with her, he found himself uncomfortable doing so. “I don’t really know,” he admitted.

  “Don’t you? Then we’re just wasting our time, aren’t we?”

  “Fine,” he said before she could turn away. He wanted to avoid her steady gaze, so he forced himself not to. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

  She continued to look at him as though expecting him to say more. What more did she want him to say, damn it? He was admitting he was wrong, wasn’t he? He didn’t do that often.

  “And what, exactly, is it you shouldn’t have said, Keith?” she asked mildly. “You said so many things, after all. Like how you didn’t want to kiss me. And how it was all a mistake. Oh, and let’s not forget how you don’t want to be with someone who’s been raped.”

  The last word struck him like a fist, especially when she pressed her fingers to her lips and looked away in a clear bid not to cry. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d had a lower opinion of himself. Considering his unglorified past, that said a lot.

  He itched to reach for her. He shoved his hands into his pockets instead. His touch was probably the last thing she wanted right then.

  “I get it,” he said. “I’m an asshole.”

  Again, she had an air of expectation, as though waiting for something more. Was he supposed to read her mind and magically say what she wanted to hear?

  Her expression changed from expectant to resigned. “Well, as long as that’s been established. I’m quite glad you came all this way to get that off your chest,” she said before turning and walking away.

  “Wait,” he said, hurrying after her when she didn’t stop. “Damn it, Sydney. I’m sorry. Okay?

  “I’m sorry.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Sydney stopped and turned slowly, trying not to look stunned that Keith had actually said the words. It couldn’t have been easy for him, the guy who always told her never to apologize. Judging by his fierce scowl, he was just as surprised as she was.

  Doing her best to keep her voice level, she asked, “Then why did you say those things?”

  He moved closer to her. “Because...” He trailed off and seemed to struggle with what he was about to say. “I was trying to hurt you.”

  She couldn’t form a single response to that.

  “I didn’t know why at the time,” he continued. “It’s taken me until today to realize it myself.”

  Still reeling, she prompted, “And?”

  “I wanted you to get as far away from me as you could.”

  “Well, mission accomplished,” she said, turning to walk away again.

  “No.” He reached out and stopped her, grasping her by her upper arms. “Just listen. I wanted you to get away from me because you deserve better than me, Sydney. So much better.”

  Her heart flailed in her chest, making speech difficult. “That’s not true,” she managed.

  “It is true. I’m no good for you. You’re smart and beautiful and kind. You’re generous and thoughtful. You have more patience and talent than anyone I know. You’re fucking perfect. If you got involved with me—”

  “What?” she interrupted, suddenly irritated. “You’ll magically change me so I’m none of those things?”

  That seemed to stop him in his tracks. She didn’t know if it was her words or her harsh demeanor and she didn’t care.

  “Now you listen to me, Keith Connors,” she said in her most severe teacher tone. “I don’t know why you think so poorly of yourself. You’re incredibly smart, way more so on a practical level than I am. And of course you’re sexy. I don’t think you’re particularly kind, but you’re without a doubt generous and thoughtful...you’re just more particular to whom you apply those qualities. Don’t you think I know about Lex’s multiple heart surgeries that you’ve paid for and the tuition you pay every month for her education?

  “You have unending patience with Lex,” she continued without allowing him to reply, “and you’ve had plenty of patience learning to read, never once complaining even though I forced you into it. And talent? My God, have you ever seen or heard yourself play? So don’t give me that lame excuse for why you said such awful things to me.”

  She tried to pull herself from his grasp. He just tightened his hold.

  “Maybe you’re right,” he responded.

  “Maybe? Let me go.”

  “No.”

  He said it simply, like she shouldn’t even have an opinion in the matter. That didn’t offend her. She knew she could wrestle her way free if she really wanted to.

  She didn’t. Not when he seemed so close to understanding.

  “Admit it,” she said. “You lied.”

  “I’ve lied a lot,” he agreed easily. “Yet another reason you shouldn’t be with me.”

  She drew in a sharp breath, ready to argue again.

  “But you’re right in this case,” he said, nodding as though to himself. “I did lie. To both of us.”

  Her breath slowly left her lungs. When he removed his hands from her shoulders and stuck them in his pockets, she felt oddly bereft.

  “Because I did want to kiss you, Sydney,” he acknowledged.

  She fought her embarrassment over her need to ask the next question. “Then why did you stop?”

  “I stopped because...it mattered.”

  “Oh.” She tried to understand that and couldn’t.

  “Kissing is a means to an end,” he said. “It’s just an expected part of foreplay. It’s not supposed to matter.”

  She completely disagreed but decided it wasn’t the time to argue.

  “It mattered with you, Slick. It mattered a lot. And that scared the hell out of me.”

  “Oh,” she said with more emphasis this time.

  That certainly explained things. The kiss had made him examine how he felt about her, and what he’d discovered had scared him. Sydney admitted to herself that the kiss had done the same thing for her. But instead of making her want to push him away like he’d done with her, she’d finally realized the true depth of her feelings for him.

  “And now?” she asked when he didn’t say anything for a full minute.

  “I’ve realized I was being an asshole.”

  And they were right back where they started.

  At least this conversation had given her a little more insight into how Keith thought. He must have gone through all of this conversation in his head, reduced it down to him being an asshole, and stated just that to her when he was trying to explain himself. She supposed he considered all of the in-between dialogue a waste of time.

  “So that’s what you rode all this way to tell me?” she asked.

  His eyebrows drew together. “No. I had no idea what I intended to say when I hopped on my bike and follo
wed you. I just knew that what you said about me wanting nothing to do with you was completely wrong. And yes, I know that’s what I said after we kissed. Like I said, I was lying.”

  “And you wanted to hurt me,” she stated.

  “Yes.”

  “Because you’re an asshole.”

  His eyes narrowed. “In so many words.”

  “Fine,” she said with a nod. “Then I suppose the air has been cleared.”

  “It has?”

  “Sure. You’ve explained why you said what you said and you apologized. I appreciate that and I forgive you.”

  His posture eased. “So you’ll come back on the tour?”

  “Well, no. I mean, I hadn’t planned on it.”

  “Why the hell not?” he asked, pulling his hands out of his pockets and crossing his arms over his chest. “You said you forgive me.”

  “Of course I do. But what does that have to do with me coming back on the tour?”

  “Because I want you there.”

  Her heart tripped and stumbled. “Oh.”

  “That’s all you have to say?”

  Now she was the one who frowned. “Well give me a second to process here, Keith. Ten minutes ago I was still trying to piece together my shattered heart. Now you’re asking me to trust you with it again.”

  That had him closing his mouth on whatever he’d been prepared to say. He uncrossed his arms and hesitated a moment before once again reaching out and placing his hands on her shoulders.

  “Sydney, I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve felt it necessary to apologize, and none of them comes close to how sorry I am for what I said to you. There’s no excuse for it. You just got to me so fast and I never saw it coming. I fumbled...badly. I don’t deserve your heart or your trust. But I’m asking for both. If you give me another chance, I promise I won’t ever hurt you like that again.”

  Just as she’d had no defense against the hurtful words he had thrown at her, she had none for these astonishingly tender words now. They couldn’t have been easy for Keith to say.

  This was a critical point for both of them. Keith had swallowed his pride to tell her the truth about what happened between them and how it made him feel. She owed him the same thing.