by Leddy Harper
“Fair point,” Kenny practically mumbled past slightly curved lips as soon as Barbara walked away. She pulled the straw closer to her mouth and drew in a long gulp. “So, Drew Wheeler, what is it you would like to know about me?”
Now that I was put on the spot, I couldn’t think of a single question. But I couldn’t very well just sit there and stare at her like an idiot, so I asked the first thing that came to mind. “You know my first and last name, but all I know is your first.”
“You want to know my last name?” Surprise lifted her brows, as if that was the most bizarre request she’d ever heard. “Richards. McKenna Leigh Richards. There, now you know my full name while I only know your first and last.
Truthfully, I already knew her last name. I’d looked it up yesterday morning before taking her out on the boat. But I wouldn’t dare tell her that—for a couple reasons: I didn’t want to look like a stalker, and I wanted to know more about her, which wouldn’t happen if she knew my first question was one I already had the answer to.
The third reason I didn’t admit to knowing her last name—and arguably the most important reason—was my inability to think straight after watching her take a flask out of her bag and pour its contents into the cup of soda she was just given. If I had been a cartoon, my jaw would’ve been on the floor.
“Kenny!” It was a whisper-shout, but thanks to my unusually deep voice, it came out quite aggressive rather than expressing my shock and concern.
She stilled and stared at me, but all I could do was concentrate on the bottle in her hand.
“You can’t do that here.” I frantically glanced around, relieved to find no one paying attention to her. Leaning closer, I lowered my voice and did my best to calm down. “We could get in so much trouble if you get caught.”
Her eyes went wide, confusion lining her brow in deep creases as she quickly shoved her flask back into the bag on the stool next to her. “Really? I’m so sorry, Drew. I didn’t think it would be a big deal as long as no one sees me do it. Everyone’s busy with the trivia game they’re getting ready to start, and I haven’t done it in front of the staff. I’m really sorry—I don’t want you guys to get in any trouble.”
My shoulders drooped forward, heavy and exhausted. I’d gone from hesitant to content to shocked and worried to ashamed all within a couple of minutes. All because of one person.
I ran my hands down my face and sighed. “I didn’t mean to freak out on you, Kenny. I just saw that and reacted. You know I don’t care what you drink…in private. I just can’t risk someone catching you and filing a report. We simply don’t have the resources to go through something like that and make it out on the other side.”
“I totally understand, and again, Drew, I’m sorry.” Embarrassment cloaked her entire face, from her downturned eyes to her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. As much as I loved to see the color of this emotion on her cheeks, I certainly didn’t want to get it this way.
Every time she apologized, I felt worse and worse for saying anything in the first place. She was in the very back against the railing, meaning no one could see her from behind. And now that I took note of the crowd in front and on both sides of her, I realized she was pretty well hidden and wouldn’t likely get caught. But that wasn’t the point.
“Were you wanting to stay for trivia?”
Kenny shrugged and then pulled in a rather deep breath. “Not really. I just didn’t want to be all by myself again. When I decided to come on the trip alone, I guess I didn’t take into consideration that I would get lonely.”
I had an idea. “Let me get Barbara and close out your tab.”
“Oh, I already did that. She was only bringing me refills.”
With that, I pulled my wallet from my back pocket and left a cash tip on top of the table for the server. Taking Kenny’s drink, I stood and waited for her to follow. “Take it from me…it’s always better to drink with someone else.”
A soft smile crossed her pouty lips as she slid from her stool, grabbed her bag, and followed me to the exit. I had my attention on too many things while we moved through the crowd to notice anything about Kenny other than the fact that she was right behind me. But once we made it to the steps on the side of the deck, I couldn’t help but pick up on the slight wobble in her gait.
“How long have you been spiking your drinks?” I asked as I took her hand to lead her down the wooden steps.
“Since I was three.”
I stopped and turned to face her, confused by her answer. Then I played it back in my head, and taking in the crooked smirk on her face, I laughed. “I meant tonight.”
“Oh, well, long enough to get a buzz.”
“And how many did you have?”
“Enough to get buzzed,” she answered with a giggle that made it impossible to be upset with her. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her speech—not slurred or impaired-sounding at all—yet I doubted she could walk a straight line to save her life.
My original idea was to take her back to her place and have a drink or two with her there so she wouldn’t feel lonely while also not putting the resort at risk. That all changed the second I realized just how buzzed she was. With a new plan in place, I handed back her drink, took her by the hand, and led her along the dirt path.
The area around The Feeder was a lot more open than most of the resort due to it being a restaurant that people from neighboring towns visited. And because of that, it also had substantial lighting along the dirt road that ran in front of the building. This meant I could see her without needing night-vision goggles.
“Where are we going?” It didn’t take her long to question my motives—good girl.
“Well, you said you didn’t want to be alone, so I thought we could go for a stroll and walk some of the liquor off.”
“But I’m still allowed to drink, right?”
The bubble of laughter floated up my chest before I had a chance to stop it. “Of course.”
“Good,” she said with a teasing grin, right before pulling the straw to her lips in the most seductive way I’d ever seen it done. “And now that you have me alone…what else do you want to know about me, Drew?”
With my brain functioning properly—or as well as it could around her—I was able to think of something I wanted to ask. “You said the other night that you heard about this place in a book. What book was it? And what did it say?”
“It was just a diary, and it didn’t say much.”
Again, like the other night, I got the impression that Kenny didn’t care to discuss the book or its contents. Although, unlike the other night, I had no intention of dropping it. “Whose diary was it?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but I think it was my grandmother’s.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Well, it was in my grandfather’s attic with a bunch of my grandmother’s old things.”
I started to understand that maybe it wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk about it; maybe her reluctance had more to do with the fact that she completely sucked at giving information. It was like she only answered the literal question without offering anything else. I was sure this would’ve normally been a trait I’d laugh at.
An exaggerated huff ripped past my lips just as I dropped my head back, my arms outstretched in a very dramatic show of exasperation. I released a somewhat-convincing frustrated groan, reminiscent of a howling wolf, and then resumed my pace next to Kenny. “This is going to take all night.”
The way her mouth curled was just plain devious, as though this had been her plan all along—delivering me to the brink of insanity for her own amusement. “Now you know how I felt last night.”
“What does that mean?” I genuinely didn’t know.
“You dragged out that story way longer than it needed to be. You had me on the edge of my seat and then told me I wasn’t allowed to ask questions. Without prodding you, I might still be on your dock listening to your story right now.”
That was
a complete exaggeration of events, but it made me laugh, nonetheless.
“In all seriousness, though,” she continued, “there’s not much to tell. Like I said, I think it’s my grandmother’s journal from when she was in high school. It starts right before her senior year, and it ends right after she moves away for college. There are a few more entries in the back, but they’re sporadic and disjointed. It reads like she only picked it up when she really needed to write about something…all without giving full dates or details. She only used the month and day for those entries, not the year.”
“Well, what did she say about the place? Did she mention the resort by name?”
Confusion narrowed her gaze for a moment before she shook her head. “Oh, no. She didn’t say anything about the resort. I didn’t even know it existed until I looked it up.”
I grabbed her hand and halted my steps, forcing her to stop with me. I turned her to face me, and with my hands on her shoulders, I squatted to bring us as close to eye level as I could. I wasn’t sure if Kenny was deliberately being vague or if this was how she acted under the influence. All I knew was that her fragmented and heavily disorganized story frustrated me.
“Start over, Kenny. Or at least back up a bit.” I should’ve known not to say that to someone who’d been drinking. She literally took a step backward. Any other time, I would’ve laughed—much like she did—but right now, my one-track mind refused to process anything other than the questions I needed answered. “The other night, on the dock before the fireworks, you told me you’d heard of this place from a book.”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“And then you said the book was a diary you presumed to be your grandmother’s. Correct?”
“Uh, yeah.” She furrowed her brow, staring at me as if I was the crazy one.
“But ten seconds ago, you admitted that your grandmother never mentioned this place.”
“What are you getting at?”
I couldn’t help but think about how funny this would be if it were happening to someone else. “Why did you just say that you heard about this place from her diary if she never mentioned it in her diary?”
While I wasn’t angry with her, I did find myself growing increasingly more frustrated with the situation. The last thing I wanted was to make her believe that my testiness was directed at her because, in reality, this wasn’t something to get pissed over. Not to mention, I was convinced that this was all an act, put on to tease me.
I became even more convinced of that when Kenny’s expression fell flat, eyes locked on mine. Her brows knitted together a split second before she raised just one, reminding me of a soft and feminine version of The Rock. It was the epitome of a you’ve-gotta-be-kidding-me glare.
“You’re no fun,” she muttered with a dismissive eye roll. “My grandmother used to live around here, and when I went to look it up, I found information about the resort. That’s all I know. So technically, the diary led me to this place without specifically mentioning it.”
Surprisingly, that was a rather plausible explanation, one that made me feel quite small for making such a big deal about it. To pass it off, I laced my fingers with hers and continued our casual stroll along the dirt road.
“Where did your grandmother live?” I asked, wanting to act normal, not like a crazy person who flips out when confused about details.
She took a long pull of her cocktail through the straw, and based on the presence of ice rattling against the side of the plastic to-go cup, I assumed she was almost finished with her drink. “I’m not sure; her journal doesn’t mention it by name.”
“Can’t you just ask her?”
“No, she died the night I was born.”
I wasn’t sure what I expected her to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. “Oh, that sucks. What happened?”
“Car accident.”
“Surely your mom told you about her, though.”
She shrugged, catching me by surprise. “Not really.”
I found that odd. Even though my dad couldn’t recite in detail the stories that Grans used to tell, he knew enough to tell people about his mother. Hell, he did a pretty good job at making sure I knew what I needed to know about my own mom.
“I mean, she’s said things about her here and there but not much. And even then, most of that was because I’d ask, and I guess she couldn’t avoid it. For instance, my grandfather wasn’t in my life until I was thirteen. And that’s only because he suffered a massive stroke and didn’t have any other family to help. It took her a while, but my mom finally explained why he’d been absent.”
When her answer didn’t come as fast as I wanted, I asked, “Which was…?”
“Apparently, he wasn’t a very good husband. My mom never said it outright, but based on her choice of words and body language, as well as the way she reacts around my grandfather, I believe he was abusive.” She dropped her chin and stared at the dirt as she sluggishly put one foot in front of the other.
“Hey…” I squeezed her hand and slowed my pace, gently calling her attention. “Talk to me. What’s going through that head of yours?”
I’d never wanted to know something more.
Except, rather than answer my question, she turned to face me and slid her palm up my chest to the back of my neck. And in that moment, I learned how McKenna Leigh Richards changed the subject when she didn’t want to talk about something.
Chapter Seven
Kenny
In the sun, Drew’s eyes shone like two polished obsidian gemstones. However, in the darkness of night, even standing beneath a lamppost, they resembled black holes, ready to teleport me to another time, another universe. Regardless of where we were or what we were doing—or what conversation we were in the middle of—I fell victim to them.
Over and over again.
Slowly raking my nails through the hairs on the back of his head, I whispered, “Why won’t you kiss me?”
That was one hundred percent the alcohol’s fault. Sure, I’d silently questioned it ever since the day on the boat, but never out loud. There were several instances when I’d thought he would kiss me again yet never did, and there were many times I’d wanted to take matters into my own hands. However, I was far too reserved to do something like that, which was why I blamed my outspokenness on the many mixed drinks I’d downed tonight.
Liquor made me do it. Final answer.
“What did you say?” His words came out like the hull of a boat raking over a pebbly beach—a low rumble full of grit. The hollow dips in the reverberations of his voice were laden with a toxic mixture of confusion and astonishment, a soundtrack tailored perfectly for his befuddled frown and brow taut with disbelief.
His intense stare was enough to drag me back to reality. Instantly, my neck burned, and I knew it was only a matter of seconds before my cheeks glowed with the red-hot embers of shame. If not for the lampposts, I would’ve been able to hide it, but unfortunately, the yellow light shone directly on me like I were centerstage on Broadway.
I quickly dropped my chin a few degrees and concentrated on the Black Bird Resort logo stitched on the front of his shirt. It made me wonder what his bare chest looked like, how defined his pecs were, if he had hair or if his skin was silky smooth. Before I knew it, his heartbeat pulsated against my palm, and that was when I realized I had dropped my arm, lowering my hand from the back of his neck to the subtle dip in the center of his chest.
There was no way to know how long we stood facing each other, or whether it’d been seconds or minutes since I stupidly asked him why he wouldn’t kiss me. If I had to guess, though, I’d say approximately seventy-seven days had passed. Regardless, it was definitely long enough to make things awkward, so I did my best to act nonchalant as I gently pushed away from him. “I said…” I lifted the plastic cup and made a show of rattling the ice. “I need more soda.”
I’d never seen such a vast array of emotions on one’s face in such a short period of time. I couldn’t be sure of his expressio
n while I admired his chest, but based on the strenuous thumps of his heart, as well as the onset of labored breathing, I’d guess either panic or arousal. However, when I glanced up at him again, I noticed that his brow was wrinkle free and his eyes appeared brighter. As I stepped away, I caught rejection in his narrowing gaze, and after shaking the ice in my cup, the flash of betrayal melted into amused exasperation with the slight curl at the corners of his mouth.
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough, Kenny?”
I might’ve been somewhat intoxicated, but I certainly wasn’t drunk. I knew my limits, and one more drink wouldn’t leave me vomiting in a bush or passed out on the ground. It would, however, allow me to openly talk to Drew about myself without any inhibitions, and since that was what he wanted—to know more about me—then no, I hadn’t had nearly enough.
Digging my free hand into the bag that hung by my side, I held his stare and, with a smile, teasingly said, “You’re right…why dilute a perfectly cheap bottle of rum anyway?”
He took the plastic cup before I could pull the flask out of my bag and then turned on his heel to head back to the restaurant. Luckily, we hadn’t gone far, so there wasn’t much of a walk ahead of us. Although, it was long enough for irrational self-doubt to creep in and then completely consume me.
As soon as we were within twenty feet of The Birdfeeder, he stopped and faced me, speaking the first words since asking me if I’d had enough. “Stay here. I’ll run in and refill this; don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back in one minute.” And with that, I was alone on a dirt road.
My mindset in this moment didn’t make a lick of sense. I wouldn’t have ever classified myself as an overly confident person, but I was never insecure. Sometimes shy, but I was sure of myself; I knew who I was and was happy with that. My friends had told me many times throughout the years that they wished they could feel as comfortable in their own skin as I did in mine. Which was why I couldn’t comprehend this overwhelming sense of foreign insecurity.