I grab my book back off my desk and start doing a character sketch of my main hero. Dark hair and dark eyes. Grayson, Gray for short is mysterious and sexy. The bad boy next door Camille Pelphrey’s daddy warned her about. He only wants one thing. Everyone knows the type. I twist my hair up into a bun to keep it from getting in my face as my idea sparks to life on the paper.
“Whatcha doing?” Hayley’s energetic voice booms in my ear and I jump.
“I clutch my pencil to my chest. “You scared the crap out of me. I didn’t even hear you leave the bathroom.” I grin.
“Well you were invested in drawing…” she looks down at my drawing and her lips lift into an amused smirk. “Um…is that Killian?”
“No!” My cheeks burn with embarrassment. I stare at the drawing my own eyes betraying me. “It’s my character for this assignment. He looks nothing like Killian,” I lie.
My cousin quickly snatches my sketchbook and studies the picture. “You’re like really good. And…” She stabs her finger to the rendering in question. “If this isn’t Killian it’s his doppelganger.”
“His what?”
“You know his twin. Like on The Vampire Diaries. Elena has her evil twin Catherine.”
I lift my shoulders indifferently. “I’ve never watched the show.”
“Oh my God. This is tragic. How are we related? Damon is life and you will love him.” She pushes me over on my bed and logs into Netflix on my laptop. “We have to start at the beginning, but then we will have to watch The Originals, because Klaus. Sweet baby Jesus that man is fine,” she says on a moan, and I laugh at her.
“Okay. Calm down. I don’t know what you are going on about. One TV hottie at a time please.”
Hayley rolls her eyes. “You have so much to learn.”
We are a few episodes in, and I am hooked on this show. “I admit it. I like it.” Haley gives me a stern look. “Okay I love it, but there is no way you can tell me that Damon is the guy I should be rooting for. He’s such a jerk.”
“Damon is everything. You’ll see. A few more episodes in and you’ll be like Stefan who.” We both giggle and munch on more popcorn. The actor who plays Damon is sexy. He has this signature smirk that makes me feel flushed.
“Alright. One more episode then I really need to get to the library to do some work.”
“You are a nerd,” she teases and throws a handful of popcorn at me. “Does Damon remind you of anyone?”
“Should he?”
“Come on, Liri. Talk to me. Girl to girl. You can tell me you like Killian. I won’t judge you. Okay maybe I will a little, but there’s nothing wrong with finding him attractive as long as you don’t see him as boyfriend material.”
“Fine.” I hold my arms up in surrender as I get up to throw the stray pieces of popcorn away. “Killian is a total heartbreaker. His poster would be on my bedroom wall is that what you want to hear?”
“I knew it.” Her lips quirk upward. “Be honest. Did he try anything with you?”
My mind instantly goes to his mouth on mine. “Of course not. I told you. He thinks I’m a nerd.”
“Hmmm.” She studies me. “If you say so.”
“I do.” I fidget with the locket around my neck. “How is you know…”
“Your dad?” she finishes for me with a sympathetic expression on her face. “Uncle James has his good days and bad. I was thinking…well Mom was thinking maybe you’d like to go with her to see him. The home he’s in is about two hours from here. We could drive up on a Friday and spend the night at my Mom’s then go see him on Saturday and come back on Sunday. Just think about it. I think it could be good for you both.”
“Would he even know who I am? Do you think he remembers me at all?”
“He knows some stuff but then there are times he seems like a child.”
I nod, trying to take it all in. I don’t remember my father. I was three when he got wasted and totaled his motorcycle. He wasn’t wearing a helmet and his head took a lot of damage. The man was in a coma for three months. He should have died but he didn’t. The accident left him completely paralyzed and unable to care for himself. Him and Mom had already been split up for two years at the time. She said he wasn’t a bad father he was young, selfish, and didn’t always show up when he said he would. He wasn’t dependable and she got tired of waiting for him.
“Hayley!” We both look to the door when we hear someone calling her name.
“I’m going to kill him,” she tells me with a bitter laugh. I close my laptop and stick it on my desk as she goes to answer the door.
“I’m sorry. He’s drunk and he wouldn’t shut up until I brought him over here to see you.” I look over to the doorway and see Killian holding up Liam. He appears to be drunk off his ass.
“Hey, baby,” he coos at his girlfriend and stumbles forward.
“Well that’s great.” She shakes her head and moves so they can come into our room. “I’m sorry,” she mouths at me.
I offer her a smile. “It’s fine. I need to get to the library.” I can feel Killian staring at me, but I refuse to meet his eyes. I’m not in the mood for more of his games.
Liam bends down and grabs my sketchbook. Shit.
“I’ll take that.” I go to grab it from his grip, but he holds it up higher.
“Damn, girl, you can draw.” I can smell the liquor on his breath and my stomach rolls.
“Thanks. Can I have that back please?”
“Oh shit.” He looks from the page to Killian. “This looks exactly like you.” He stumbles over to him and holds my illustration up by his face. My stomach churns, and I can’t do anything but stare at the floor.
“Give me that,” Hayley smacks the top of his head and gives me my book.
“Thanks,” I mumble and tuck it back in my messenger bag quickly.
Killian is leering at me as I slip my shoes on. “You got him under control?” he looks to Hayley.
“Yeah, he’ll probably pass out soon.”
“Do you need me to bring you back anything?” I offer as I start out the door.
“If I do, I will text you.”
I nod and give her small wave, stepping around Killian. When I get to the elevator, he’s right next to me. “So…you were drawing me?” He grins.
“I draw lots of people. I like to do portraits.” I keep my eyes on the elevator entrance wishing it would hurry up.
“Can I escort you to the library? I wanted to apologize about earlier. I wanted to have lunch with you.”
“Right. I’m sure you did.” I roll my eyes and step into the elevator.
“Let me make it up to you.” He follows me, and I press the button for the lobby.
“I’m good but thanks. I’m sure Jackie wouldn’t want you hanging out with me.”
“Come on, Liri. Listen, Jackie is my friend and going through a rough time. She was trying to make Ben jealous.”
“It’s really none of my business. You don’t owe me any explanations or anything.”
He leans into my personal space, crowding me against the wall, and I feel as though I can’t breathe.
“What do you want from me, Killian?” I stare into his dark eyes trying to figure him out.
“Everything and nothing at all,” he says, his voice dropping down low and his eyes on my lips. “I like this.” He tugs on the spaghetti strap of my romper.
“Thanks.” My brows knit together, and the elevator stops. Killian steps away from me and the doors open.
I quickly exit and dart out the building not bothering to see if he is still trying to follow me. As my feet hit the sidewalk though I can smell his cologne and he falls into step with me.
“What are you doing?” I think he loves to torture me or something. He confuses me and annoys me like no one else ever has.
“I’m walking you to the library. What’s it look like I’m doing?”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head with a laugh. “Have you ever even stepped foot in the library?”
“Mhmm.” I rub my lips together and pick up my pace.
“Come on, Liri. I want us to be friends.”
“I don’t think I’m the kind of friend you are looking for. I’m not like Jackie.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. Look, Liam is my best friend and Hayley is your roommate. We might as well make nice with each other. I don’t think either of us are getting new best friends anytime soon.”
I stop in my tracks and turn to face him. “Fine. You want to be my friend?” I doubt this will go far. I’ll entertain him for now.
He lifts his shoulder indifferently. “Why not?”
“Okay then. I’m going to the library to work on my paper for my writing assignment. You want to be my friend you can come along. No funny business.”
He makes the motion of crossing his heart and sticking a needle in his eye. I start walking again and he keeps pace with me, lighting up a cigarette. I shoot him a dirty look, but he doesn’t put it out.
“I don’t need a lecture.”
“Your body. Do what you want to.”
“You have no idea the things I want to do with my body,” he teases.
My face warms. “Wow. Is everything a line or a joke to you?”
“Not always.”
“I doubt that.”
“You think I can’t be serious?”
“That’s exactly what I think.”
“You don’t know me, Liri.”
He’s right about that. I don’t. I am out of my element with this bad boy.
“I’ll be in soon. Go grab us a table. I just gotta finish my cigarette.”
“Didn’t they ban smoking on campus?”
“What’s your point?”
“Nothing.” He is exhausting. I am already mentally drained after being with him for ten minutes. I will never survive an hour.
I arrive at the library and take a table in the back. I’m sure Killian has probably already bolted. I didn’t expect to him to last the walk here. I was sure there would be some chick along the way who would catch his eye and send him off on his next conquest.
I lay my bag down and pull out my notes. I do better if I write things out by hand and type them out later. I really wanted to come here because I knew it would be quieter than the dorm. And it gives Hayley some alone time with her man even if he is drunk.
To Grayson,
All my love,
Camille.
I stare at the words, but they aren’t multiplying. I grab my sketchbook instead and decide I need to draw Camille. I need to get inside her head. Scooting my chair back I draw my knees up to get comfortable, resting my pad on them. Camille easily comes to life. Dark hair, a freckle above her lip, and some lighter ones dusted along her nose. It isn’t my best work, but it is decent enough to give her some life. The chair next to me scoots out. I look over and see Killian sitting way too close. My pencil is between my lips and he smirks at me as he shrugs off his leather jacket and reveals a long-sleeved black tee with a faded logo on it from some indie band.
“You got a little smudge on your face from your pencil.” His thumb brushes along my cheek, and down my neck. A shiver slices through me, and I put my legs down and close my sketchbook.
“What are you working on?”
“A letter.”
“Looks like you were sketching.”
“You spying on me now?”
“No. I’ve been watching you though for about fifteen minutes. You have talent. I was curious and liked watching the rendering you were doing of yourself unfold.”
I look away. I wasn’t drawing myself, was I? My brows knit. Why was he watching me? The thought shoots an arrow straight at my heart, and my pulse rings in my ears.
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” I take my hair down for something to do with my hands.
“Look away whenever I’m nice to you.”
I turn my head toward his. “I don’t.”
“Yes, you do,” he argues.
“Just habit I suppose. I need to go grab a few books.” I shove back my chair and it makes a grating sound against the floor.
“Need any help?”
“Not unless you know where I can find books on life during World War II.”
“Actually, I do. Come with me.”
I start to follow him when he stops me.
“Don’t leave your bag laying here. Someone will steal it.” He plucks his jacket off the back of his chair.
“Oh. Okay.” I shove my stuff inside and put it up on my shoulder. The books I want are upstairs in a different part of the library. Killian goes over to the help desk and grabs a set of keys. “What are you doing?”
“You can put your stuff in here.” He leads me to a small room and unlocks the door. “These rooms are usually reserved in advance.”
“Thanks.” I put my bag down and we go in search of the reference books I want to look at.
Ten minutes later Killian’s arms are weighted down with my selections.
“You know you could probably find most of this online,” he gripes, slamming the books down on the table.
“Not all of it, but thanks for the help.” Maybe I had him wrong and we can be friends.
Chapter 9
Liri
I take a seat and open up the first book off the top of the stack. Flipping through the pages I get the sense Killian is staring at me. “You don’t have to stay with me. I’m sure you have other things you’d rather be doing.” I’m shocked he hasn’t taken off yet, but he seems to like history. I wasn’t expecting this side of him.
“Am I bothering you?”
I look over at him through my hair and he pushes it away to see my face. “No. I didn’t take you for the type who hangs out in libraries.”
“Not always, but I do study on occasion. Don’t go spreading that around though. I do have my reputation to uphold.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t you have something you should be doing? An assignment or something?” Chasing your next victim, I want to add on but bite my tongue.
“Nope.”
“What’s your major anyway?”
“Female Anatomy.”
I nearly choke on my own freaking spit. This guy never quits.
“Seriously?”
“No.” he laughs. “I don’t have a clue what I want to do. Well I do but my family wouldn’t approve.”
“You want to race, professionally?”
He nods.
“What do they want you to do?”
“Anything but that.” He smiles but the action doesn’t reach his eyes fully. “I’m an art history major.”
“Really?” I am sure he is pulling my leg, but he did know exactly where to find the books I wanted.
His phone goes off and he excuses himself. “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”
Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m enjoying hanging out with him and it feels nice. I smile at him and he leaves. I return my attention back to my research about the living conditions of the south when the war first broke out. My story starts unfolding in my head. I can hardly write fast enough to keep up with the idea as it plays in my thoughts like a movie.
Dear Grayson,
I have started this letter so many times, and every time I start writing—my words don’t sound quite right, and I wad the paper up and toss it in the bin. If Dad saw how much paper I have wasted he’d wallop me good with a switch off the weeping willow out back by the creek. The one we used to grab hold of and swing into the creek from to swim in as kids. You know the one. Some days I walk down to the creekbank and stick my toes in the water, missing the way things were before. Before the war. Before you left and before Momma died. I miss you and wonder often if you are missing me too. I think about that kiss we shared last summer. The way you looked deeply in my eyes with the weight of the world balancing on your shoulders. Torn between your duty to your country and worrying about saving your family farm. All I could
think was I hated how sad you were and wanted to give you a sliver of happiness if only for that brief moment when your lips touched mine. Some nights when I look out my bedroom window, I pretend the lit candle across the way in your bedroom window is you telling me that you are thinking about me too. Did it mean anything to you? Do I mean anything to you? I go over to see your Pa when I can and help him around the house. His sight has deteriorated. He’s hateful as he ever was. He refuses my help, but I ignore him. He’s a proud man you know.
I get carried away in the world of Camille and Grayson. Imagining them as children playing in the creek on a hot summer day, barefoot and maybe eating watermelon straight from the garden when they were done splashing around.
The door to the room opens up and Killian returns.
“We should get going. The library will be closing soon.” He steps up behind me, looking over my shoulder. “You paint, you draw, and you write. Is there anything you can’t do?” he teases.
“It’s a rough start anyway.” I hurry to tuck it away feeling self-conscious of him reading my rough draft.
“It’s good. Don’t change it.”
“I won’t.”
“Good.” He moves the stack of books to the end of the table. “Someone else will put these away later.” His thumb moves under my chin and those stupid butterflies start fluttering in my stomach.
“Have you heard from Hayley and Liam?” I break away and push my chair back.
“No. Why would I?”
“I thought maybe you’d have to pick him up or something.” I stand up and pull my bag across my chest. Killian starts to open the door then closes it and turns into me. His fingers touch my jaw. “What are you—” I don’t get to finish my sentence. I was going to ask him what his dinner plans were. His mouth comes down on mine this time more forceful and hungrier than the last.
I part my lips when his tongue prods at the seam. I don’t stop to overthink what’s happening I go with what comes naturally and kiss him back hoping this time I appear to know what I am doing. His tongue glides along the length of mine, and I get lost in the moment. His mouth tastes like grape bubblegum and not like cigarettes luckily. No one wants to kiss an ashtray.
The Story of Killian & Liri (Cruel Love Book 1) Page 5