by Kat Bastion
Over the next five minutes, everyone gravitated toward two picnic tables joined end on end. Platters lined the center, two with the baby back ribs, another loaded with burgers. Bowls held coleslaw and a regular garden salad. One plate held a couple dozen deviled eggs. Another had rolls piled high.
Kiki sat across from me, wearing a yellow top with thin shoulder straps, her dark hair pulled into a high ponytail. Her blue eyes sparkled in the bright midday light.
She stared at me for several beats, smile widening. Innocent. Happy.
In those heart-stopping seconds, deep emotion began to burn in my chest for the girl who had no idea how big of an impact she’d begun to have on me. And Logan.
Then my gaze swung toward Logan as she settled right beside her.
Kiki suddenly lifted her knife and clanked it on her glass of lemonade. “Introductions are in order. Some of you have already met her, but she’s my new friend and Darren’s sister.” She wrapped an arm around Logan whose cheeks began to flush with embarrassment. “Everyone, this is Logan Cole. Logan, this is Jason, Kristen’s husband. Cade, Hannah, and Kendall, who you met in the kitchen.” Kiki pointed her knife as she went down the line while each person nodded or waved. “Ben, Cade’s best friend since kindergarten. Mase, Cade’s roommate, well, former roommate. He still lives in Cade’s old house.”
“Uh…for now.” Mase interjected from the end of the table, grabbing a rack of ribs.
Cade’s expression darkened. “What do you mean for now?”
“Oh, are you moving in with Laura?” Hannah’s brows lifted as she plucked a deviled egg from the plate handed off to her.
“No.” He passed Ben the bowl of coleslaw. “Laura and I broke up.”
Hannah’s brows fell. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
Mase gave a hard headshake, his long dark-blond bangs falling over one eye. “Don’t be. She got a position with a law firm in Chicago. Wants to work hundred-hour weeks for the next few years to make junior partner. We’d been growing apart while she studied for the bar anyway.”
Cade grabbed a roll and tossed it onto his plate that was piled high with food. “What’s that got to do with you moving out?”
“Just got back from the South Pacific. Won a couple of windsurfing competitions down there. Might travel the globe and compete. See where that takes me.”
Cade dropped his beer down with a hard clang. “You’re not moving out. You will always have a room there.”
Mase pegged him with a hard stare. “Thanks.”
Kiki leaned over the table, looking beyond Kendall to see Mase. “That where you got the new tattoo?”
Mase nodded, lifting the cuff of his T-shirt higher over his right biceps. Clear plastic wrap covered a tribal tattoo that wound around the widest part of the muscle. “Yeah. Got it in Tahiti, day before yesterday.”
A loud bang echoed and everyone snapped their attention toward the house.
“We’re here!” Two voices called out in near unison.
Kiki nudged Logan. “That would be Chloe and Daniel.”
“Are we late?” Chloe dressed rockabilly today: 1950’s pinup-style makeup with dark arching brows, fire-red hair pulled back in a wide black headband, black-and-white polka dot dress with red neck straps and matching petticoats. Classic louder-than-life Chloe.
Daniel approached the table and turned his head left and right, surveying the spread. “Did we miss anything?” His jet-black Mohawk quivered back and forth, and his ear, nose, and brow piercings gleamed in the sunlight.
“Chloe and Daniel, this is Logan, Darren’s sister.”
“Nice to meet you, Logan.” Chloe gave her a half-hug, then planted a bright red kiss on her cheek before taking a seat at one of the two empty place settings.
Daniel held a hand out to Logan. “This bunch of rejects behaving?”
Logan shook his hand, lips pressed into a firm line as she fought a smile. Then her expression hardened further. “Hell, no.”
“Good.” Daniel lumbered toward Chloe. When he sat beside her at the end of the table, he swept a casual hand toward the rest of us who all still stared at him. “Carry on.”
For the next hour, lunch turned into layers of conversations. Nearly everyone had an opinion about the new ballpark going in at Fairmount Park. Hannah and Cade shared the progress of their upcoming restaurant along the Schuylkill River. Ben, Mase, and Cade analyzed the latest baseball games and debated which teams would make the playoffs this year. I got sucked into a conversation with Daniel and Chloe about the lineup at this year’s Gettysburg Bluegrass Festival.
Through it all, Logan seemed to come to life. Kendall sat on her other side, Kristen opposite her, next to Jason and me. And Kiki and her sisters kept pulling Logan into every one of their topics: shoes, shopping, favorite cupcake flavors…shoes again. Logan would glance at me every now and then, broad smile on her face.
I kept staring at Kiki. Didn’t care one bit if anyone noticed. Each time she caught me, she would draw in a deep breath, then exhale slowly, her smile softening.
“Who wants pie?” Kristen pushed up from the table.
“Duh.” Mase said, standing with her. “Who doesn’t want pie?”
Plates were cleared, everyone lending a hand by carrying something into the kitchen. Then three kinds of pie were served: cherry, apple, and strawberry-rhubarb.
Kiki didn’t sit back down, however. Plate of pie in hand, she nodded toward a seating area off to the side while the others dug into their desserts at the picnic tables.
I followed right after her.
We ended up leaning against a three-foot high brick planter, watching the others as she forked small bites of cherry pie into her mouth. She’d sidled up next to me, her arm pressed against mine. The contact felt both innocent and intimate.
I put my half-eaten apple pie on the brick beside me. “Thank you for inviting us, Kiki. Logan’s having a great time.”
She speared a lone cherry with her fork then popped it into her mouth. “You’re welcome.”
“Me too.” My whispered words felt heavy. But I needed her to know how much it meant.
Kiki put down her fork, then swept a slow gaze at each person.
“Friends mean everything to me. You included.” She glanced at the brickwork under our feet. After a few seconds, she lifted her head and stared off into the distance. “I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.”
Fear edged her tone, and I put a gentle hand over hers. When she finally looked at me, her lower lip trembled.
I touched a finger under her chin, tilting her face up. “Hey. I don’t want that either.”
Disappointment tightened her face. “You don’t?”
“I don’t want to jeopardize our friendship.”
“Oh, right.”
“Maybe…you could trust me.”
She sucked in a deep breath, searching my eyes. Then she let out a heavy sigh. “Maybe…”
Who hurt you? What I wanted to ask, but didn’t. Something had happened to her. She’d gotten burned by a guy. Bad enough to cause her to be guarded with all others.
Logan and Mase strode into our line of sight, Mase’s arm slung around her shoulders, his large black sunglasses on her face. He leaned his head toward her, mouthing something unintelligible. She burst out laughing.
“Hey!” Kiki put her plate down, then glared at Mase. “No corrupting the innocent.”
“You heard the lady.” He gently shoved Logan away from him. “Go easy on me.”
Logan shoved him back. He roped an arm around her neck again then rubbed his knuckles over her head. She elbowed him in the ribs.
I grinned at their playful roughhousing. “What were you two laughing about?”
“Guys.” Logan nudged his hip.
My smile faded.
But before I could ask, Kiki crossed her arms, leaning toward them. “What about guys?”
Mase gave a nod. “Told her guys were pretty much assholes until thirty.”
�
��Hey.” I snorted. “That makes us all assholes.”
Logan pushed the borrowed sunglasses back up, then lifted her nose a little higher to hold them in place. “He said ‘pretty much.’ Not always. Or all guys.”
“You misunderstand, young padawan.” He glanced down at her. “All guys. All guys are assholes until one proves himself worthy.”
“Exactly!” “Yeah.” Kiki and I agreed simultaneously, hers voiced many decibels louder than mine.
Cade walked up right as Logan wrapped her free arm around Kiki. Then Logan and Mase began to drag Kiki away. She threw me a helpless look. Then she sighed and her expression turned serious. My thoughts flashed right back to our conversation…her fears.
As Cade leaned against the planter beside me, I remembered his warning at the club a couple weeks back. “What did you mean when you said to be careful with Kiki?”
He took a deep breath, then let out a sigh. “She’s more vulnerable than she lets on.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
“Keeps secrets close to her chest. She thinks I don’t know. I may not know exactly what they are, but I know they’re there.”
“Got that too. Tough being an older brother. Gotta figure out how to protect them but still give them space.”
He took a swig of beer, then gave a nod. “Wouldn’t know about the older brother part. I’m the youngest.”
My jaw fell open a little. “Really? Kiki seems so much…how old are you?” I pegged Cade mid-twenties, at least. Kiki seemed younger than me at twenty-two.
“Just turned twenty-five.”
“And Kiki?”
“Twenty-seven…almost twenty-eight. Kendall’s between Kiki and me. Kristen’s the oldest.”
“Huh. I had no idea Kiki was five years older than me. She seems so…”
“Young.”
I nodded.
“Part of her vulnerability. I think she hasn’t wanted to grow up.”
Her one-night stand proposition haunted me—the way she’d been casual but determined. Had I taken her up on her offer, she wouldn’t have let me stick around long enough to be at her family’s barbeque, finding out more about her.
Something lay at the heart of why she didn’t want anyone close.
All guys are assholes.
Kiki had reacted to Mase’s comment. Enthusiastically agreed.
A burning question began to surface: Would she make an exception for me?
Kiki…
Over the last week, I’d gotten daily running down to a science. Once faint morning light beamed through my high windows, instead of rolling over and burrowing deeper under the covers, I’d stretch. That goal of a runner’s high got my sluggish body out of bed—even if only half-awake.
Total miracle.
After a loaded protein shake down the hatch and tights pulled on to keep the spring chill out, I’d be off, driving at the early-morning hour toward one of a dozen trails I’d found on Darren’s advice.
Darren.
I gripped the steering wheel. My heart leapt at the thought of him. On a deep breath, I tried to ignore that fact. But no matter what I did, he kept edging into my mind.
Until Darren, I’d only been a “me.” Solitary. The sole person in my head…in my world. Now, ready or not, I’d become a “we” in my head—in my tiny existence, one I’d carved out to protect me. The sudden plurality of my perspective threw me.
My stomach churned each time I analyzed the unsettling development. But then, as if planted there by hackers in my subconscious, memories of little things about him tipped the scales heavily in favor of the “we.”
Could I trust him to be different?
I didn’t know.
Five days ago at the barbeque, he’d hinted that he would be—that I should have faith in him. From that patio wall, I’d stared at clear evidence that men who loved their women became their unwavering heroes: Cade was for Hannah, Jason for Kristen.
But not all guys were wired the same. And girls didn’t find out a guy’s true worth until said guy opened up all of himself. When did that happen? Usually when the girl had already sunk all-emotions deep into him.
I parked, then began running the trail’s gradual climb, mentally and physically preparing myself for its rocky steep terrain. It would demand all my concentration not to stumble.
Every footfall was calculated, each breath a cadence, as my mind let go of my worries and my body gave itself over to the exertion. An easier bend in the trail led to a challenging staircase of granite boulders ahead.
Sudden resolve bubbled up from my gut, like a last-ditch effort to settle the matter once and for all. “It’s simple, Kiki,” I muttered. I took a deep breath, then blew it out.
“Don’t let yourself fall.”
Afternoon dragged into evening as I became engrossed in my latest sculpture. Another bit of metal held with the pincers, another throw of the flame, sudden bright light filtered through the welder’s helmet, and… BAM! The last petal of the drooping tulip-shaped flower hung in place.
I lifted my helmet to get a fresh look at it.
Rough. Delicate. Perfect.
With a satisfied sigh, I pulled the helmet off and set it on my worktable. Then I grabbed a chilled green tea from my minifridge under the counter and took several swallows. A bead of sweat rolled down from my hairline onto my forehead, and I wiped it with the back of my arm as I sat on a barstool.
The towering stack of unopened bills on the far corner stared expectantly at me.
I narrowed my eyes, glaring back.
Hard to play by society’s rules when you got screwed by them at the same time.
Ignoring the situation didn’t make it go away, but I didn’t know what else to do. Denial seemed to be working—so far. But a countdown clock ticked louder and louder as the end of the month approached.
My phone buzzed, dancing a few centimeters across the table as it vibrated. The screen lit up with a number I didn’t recognize, so I let it roll over to voicemail.
When it bleeped a voicemail alert a good minute-and-a-half later, I retrieved the message.
“Hey, Kiki. It’s me. Logan. Is it okay that I called you? Hope so. Anyway…wanna hang? I could really use someone to talk to. A girl someone. If you get this in the next little bit, you know where to find me.”
I did?
The roof!
Panicked, I scooped up my keys and purse, grabbed a sweatshirt off the end of the couch, and pulled it over my head as I jogged out to my car. Then I drove off in the general direction of town I remembered being in last time and wondered if I should call Darren.
But Logan would’ve called Darren if she wanted him there. For some reason, she’d called me.
A red light snagged me, and I waited at the longest streetlight ever, bouncing an impatient leg. Call him? Don’t call him?
In the end, I decided not to call right as the light turned green. I took it as a sign that I’d made the right decision.
The tall brick apartment buildings all began to look the same. The streets were one-way, and I ended up looping around in a circle. Twice.
My phone buzzed beside me. I glanced down to see the same number light up.
I turned it on and hit the speaker button.
Logan chuckled, “You’ve almost got it.”
“How can you tell?” I craned my neck and stared out my windshield, up toward the rooftops.
“You’re the only car driving five miles per hour down the street.” Movement flashed back and forth up along the edge.
“Do not wave at me!” I growled, worried she’d fall.
“Chill. I kicked a leg out. Parallel park out front.”
I yanked the wheel right, then parked behind a newer black SUV, making me feel slightly better about the sketchy neighborhood. Then I swiped a credit card into the meter for an hour’s time. Hopefully we wouldn’t be up there longer than that. I didn’t need a bird’s-eye view of my car being towed.
This time, I took the elevator. The door
s slid open at the fifth floor, then I bounded up the flight of stairs to the roof and burst through the door that had been propped ajar by a brick again.
There, on the edge, sat Logan. Half-turned my way, she waved.
“You’re waving.” I arched my brows as I walked toward her.
She rolled her eyes, then shot me an exhausted look. “You gonna lecture me all night?”
“Depends.” I curled my hands under the hem of my sweatshirt.
“On?”
Good question. I had no experience dealing with depression. But maybe I didn’t need any. Logan clearly didn’t think so.
“Whether or not you’re gonna throw me attitude all night.”
She ran her tongue over her teeth, assessing me. Then she reached back and plucked a bottle from a cardboard six-pack. One was already missing.
I took the bottle, staring at the label. “Beer?”
The fifteen-year-old with alcohol arched her brows at me.
Right. Lecture equals attitude. Got it.
Without another word, I carefully settled beside her, then popped the top of my beer with a twist. After I took a healthy gulp, I lowered the bottle to rest on my thigh. “So what’s the occasion tonight?”
“What makes you think there’s a reason?” Her voice softened by a small degree.
I gave her a half-shrug. “Hunch.”
She didn’t respond right away. In fact, for the next five minutes or so, we stared at cars driving by. Most flowed in from the direction of the highway a few blocks back. I figured the drivers were going home from their jobs in the city.
“Did Darren tell you about our mom?”
I nodded slowly as I took a swallow, then pulled the bottle from my lips. “A little.”
“Aren’t you curious?”
“I didn’t want to pry.” And I got the sense he dealt with things in his own time. Logan too.
As she began to pick at the label of her bottle, I leaned back, propping my weight on my free arm. Sitting at the edge wasn’t all that dangerous, as long as one respected the need to get safely situated—and no high winds blasted us.
When she didn’t respond, I glanced at her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” Her clipped tone carried bite. Then she exhaled slowly. “Yes.”