An Involuntary Spark (6 page)

Before she knew what was what, Kian's entire body language changed and she heard the knife that he was using clank against the kitchen counter. His shoulders tightened and she saw him shirk back in pain.

“Shit!”

Amiira had jumped up from her seat and was by his side, out of pure instinct and adrenaline, before she had even realized she was moving. Kian was wincing in pain and had his left hand gripping his right, as a look of discomfort laced the expression on his face.

“I'm okay,” Kian murmured underneath his breath.

Amiira saw a bit of blood on the counter and instantly knew what he had done. She grabbed a roll of paper towels that were nearby and gingerly placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Let me see it,” Amiira said softly, trying to gauge the level of the wound, but his other hand was almost completely covering the afflicted one.

“It's fine, I'm okay,” Kian maintained, his bright eyes leaving his hands momentarily to look at her, as if he had just become aware of her proximity.

Their eyes locked and Amiira felt a bit of warmth come over her body, as she quickly shook it off, broke their intertwined gazes and tore off a sheet of paper towel from the roll.

Wordlessly she put her hand over his, pulling it gently so she could look at his wound. He relented with a soft audible sigh. The gash was on a bad part of his hand, underneath the knuckle in the meaty crevice beneath his index finger. Blood spooled out of the cut when it was fully exposed. Amiira quickly took the paper towel and gently applied pressure to the wound.

“It looks much worse than it is,” Kian assured her gently, his body turning further towards her.

Even though Amiira was preoccupied with his injury, she was not at all unaware of the laser like focus he had cast upon her in their relatively new and foreign closeness. She continued to hold the pressure against his hand without responding. His gaze against her face felt almost physical and she could feel the body heat coming off of his in waves. A faint smell of soap and sandalwood with some faint notes of mango crept into her nose as she took a steadying breath.

“You were distracting me,” Kian's velvety voice was almost a whisper and it made the hairs on the back of Amiira's neck stand up. She could feel the way he was almost willing her to look him in the eye.

“What by talking to you?” Amiira questioned gently, but with an air of incredulity. She looked around at her surroundings casually with all the inattentiveness she could muster, looking everywhere but into his face. “You guys have to have some peroxide around here somewhere.”

“There's a first aid kit in one of these cabinets,” Kian replied his voice still low, his gaze still as unflinching as it was when he'd first laid it on her.

“Does it hurt?” Amiira questioned almost purely out of reflex. She was suddenly somehow increasingly concerned with the level of pain he may have been experiencing, although his body language had calmed and seemed incredibly relaxed compared to before.

“Not anymore,” Kian said sincerely. Amiira suddenly felt his eyes everywhere and became more and more conscious of the fact that she was standing in her swim suit, half naked and completely exposed to his discernible eyes.

“Do those lines work well for you elsewhere?” Amiira posed rather deliberately, her eyes flicking up to meet his for the first time. She was instantly almost zapped into stillness when their gazes met.

“It wasn't a line,” Kian responded steadily, the slightest bit of a smile formed at the corners of his mouth. “Those are ineffectual and meaningless.”

“Put pressure on this while I look for the first aid kit,” Amiira instructed gently, wondering if her tone was wavering the way her insides were. They felt like jelly as she shifted her weight between her feet.

“You're doing a much better job at that then I would,” Kian responded.

Amiira's lips parted as an attempt to form some type of retort began, but no sound came from her mouth. Kian's eyes dipped downward momentarily and that brief change of focus made Amiira's breath catch in her throat. Her fingers unconsciously stiffened around the hand she was applying pressure to.

It must not have hurt because he didn't react, only further pulled her silently into his being without even physically laying a hand on her.

“Good,” Kian said suddenly, his voice a gentle respite.

“What?” Amiira questioned, almost fearful she had been trapped in some sort of daze induced by his hauntingly caramel eyes, and she'd missed the context in which he was speaking.

“You asked me how the waves were this morning,” Kian explained, his eyes roaming the angles of her face as if it held the secret map to some hidden treasure.

The almost tangible quality that existed in the air between them as their bodies loomed near one another was downright invigorating; Amiira could feel herself involuntarily lean into him until a voice pulled her from her trace-like state. Both she and Kian's heads snapped up as they looked towards the sound.

“What happened?” Riley asked curiously from the entryway of the kitchen. She could tell that she was interrupting something and if she hadn't started talking before she had reached the kitchen, she wouldn't have even bothered them.

“Kian cut his hand,” Amiira explained hurriedly as she took a small step away from Kian, she suddenly felt almost embarrassed and unnecessarily exposed. “Where's the first aid kit?”

“It's right here,” Riley remarked as she walked towards one of the deep mahogany cabinets, giving Amiira a very specific look that ranged somewhere on the spectrum of pleased and impressed. Likely, the look had to do with what Riley assumed she had just interrupted.

Amiira thanked Riley for the items once she had located them as Wyatt came bustling through the front door before she even had time to clean and bandage Kian's hand.

“What'd I miss?” Wyatt asked once he'd entered the kitchen, seemingly very much aware that the energy in the room was thick with something unforeseen.

“Kian almost chopped his finger off,” Riley explained simply, grabbing the Sun Chips that peeked out of the bag Wyatt was still holding.

“I did not, you're so dramatic Rye,” Kian retorted, and a small chuckle escaped his throat.

Amiira tuned them out as she worked on cleaning and covering his wound, all the while trying to stop her heart from racing a mile a minute after the moment she had just slipped so easily into with the gorgeous man standing at her side.

A couple of hours and two margaritas later, Amiira stood in her shower, letting the hot water run over her tired and tight muscles. She couldn't help but replay the moment in the kitchen between her and Kian over and over in her head. Like a record spinning on an old player, long after it had stopped playing the music.

She had nothing to blame the incredibly intimate moment on but herself, and maybe even him a little bit. She hadn't been drinking before it had happened, but once Wyatt had come back with tequila, she had needed something to calm her mangled nerves just at the mere sight of Kian.

He'd explained what happened to his hand in relative detail to both Wyatt and Riley, making it sound like Amiira was some sort of magical nurse, when all she had really done was apply pressure and clean the cut, like anyone with basic knowledge of surface injuries would have done.

It also didn't escape her how he'd place himself by her side following the incident. She didn't know if he was being purposeful in his movements or if it was all done on account of the involuntary energy that existed wordlessly between them.   

Amiira also knew that Riley had certain suspicions since she had walked in on them in the kitchen. As Amiira played back the moment in her head once more, she felt certain that she hadn't been about to bridge the small gap in between their faces to kiss him, and she wasn't sure if he had been. But what she did know for sure is that if Riley hadn't entered the kitchen when she had, something inexplicable would have happened between the two of them.

Amiira felt the undeniable recognition of that fact resonate in the pit of her stomach as she let the hot water run over her face. This wasn't what she had expected; this wasn't what she had taken this reprieve and semi-vacation for. She had wanted this to be her getaway, her escape, her much needed relaxation.

She didn't want to be hindered by some bafflingly attraction and unspeakable connection to some man whom she'd known for less than 36 hours. But there was something about Kian that called to her on a very basic and primitive level.

She hadn't completely ruled out having a casual fling while she was in the house, but ideally it wouldn't be with someone who also lived there. Amiira was practical enough to recognize that having physical relationships with roommates wasn't necessarily a smart thing to do, especially if they were of the casual nature. There was too much room for hiccups and hurt feelings and awkward interpretations.

A random hookup would have done her good in the grand scheme of her life, especially coming off the heels of being completely blindsided and hurt by Eli. But this new and fresh thing with Kian that she couldn't even properly name was taking her mind to a whole other level, she was engrossed with the mere thought of him and she didn't even know him that well. This wasn't something that she'd expected or even completely condoned. She wondered to herself if she could somehow cease what she felt was already impending at a paramount speed.

She didn't doubt her strength to stop herself if something happened between them, she doubted her will, and if that was something she'd actually be willing to do. Because a huge part of her was beyond enamored by his mere physical presence. When he spoke, that feeling was only further compounded. She liked him all around, as much as one could like another when they'd only known them for less than two days.

That fact right there tripped her up and made her doubtful of the entire situation.

She turned off the shower and stepped out, wrapping a plush oversized white towel around her body after she'd thoroughly dried herself. She gazed in the mirror, at her hair that she'd haphazardly thrown and tied up on the top of her head. She'd neglected to roll or wrap it the night before, so it was looking a bit wavy and the pin straight look she'd achieved the day before was gone.

Amiira walked into her room to grab her phone before returned to the bathroom and sitting perched on the side of the bathtub. She'd opted for a shower instead of a soak, and now thought that maybe steeping in fragrant hot water would have done her mind some good.

She fiddled with her phone momentarily before putting it to her ear as it rang.

“Hey girl!” Naomi's cheerful voice greeted her, instantly making her feel better, if only marginally.

“Nae, I need your sound and sage advice,” Amiira exclaimed lowly, almost hating herself for how desperate she sounded, but more so because of how desperate she felt.

“What's going on?” Naomi questioned, her voice inquisitive. “The water and sunshine isn't treating you well?”

“No, those two things are treating me just fine,” Amiira sighed as she pulled her towel tighter around her warm body. “I'm being so silly, I can feel it. I need you to talk me out of something dumb.”

“Oh, well you know I have no problem telling you exactly what's on my mind, and if talking you out of something is what you need then so be it. What's this about?”

“There's this guy,” Amiira began, the hesitation in her voice apparent as she almost struggled to get the words out.

“A guy already, Miir?” Naomi questioned, the tone of her voice teetering on the precipice of shock. “You've been there what, a day?”

“I know,” Amiira almost groaned, instantly feeling foolish and immature. “It's so silly. I don't know what it is about him, Nae.”

“Did something happen?”

“No, no nothing's happened, I'm just so attracted to him, it's almost surreal. But this isn't what I came here for, some otherworldly attraction to some guy. I just want to relax.”