Evening Stars (25 page)

“Hey,” he said a second later. “How’s it going?”

“I don’t know. I just got the feedback from my online group.”

“And?”

“They hate it. Mostly they think it’s boring and has no purpose. One of them wants to know why I don’t go back to the gang rape story.”

“The what? I don’t remember that one.”

“I never wrote it.” She sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe they’re right. Maybe this is boring.”

“Is that what you think?”

“I didn’t. I can’t seem to find a story I’m excited about. I feel like I’m going through the motions. Maybe I’m not a writer. What do you think?”

“Enough about me. What do you think about me,” he said.

His tone was light enough, but she got the point. “I’m sorry,” she said, feeling herself flush. “You’re right. I do talk about myself. How are things at work?”

“Good. I’m avoiding hanging with James.”

“Is he still having his affair?”

“Uh-huh. That’s going to blow up in his face.”

She thought about how Kevin had been on his own for a while now. How she’d been gone. “I’m sorry to be away from you. I miss you.”

“That’s nice to hear. I miss you, too.”

“I know you want me to come home,” she said. “I want that, too.”

“But you’re not ready yet.”

He wasn’t asking a question. Still, guilt flooded her. Guilt that she was gone. Guilt that she couldn’t seem to write the novel she’d told everyone about. Guilt for being unable to commit to having a baby.

“Why can’t I be mature like everyone else? Did I miss some vital part of my development?”

He was silent.

“Don’t want to comment?” she asked.

“You already know what I think.”

She did. He believed she listened to Nina too much. That she substituted her sister for her own judgment.

“You’re wrong,” she told him. “I don’t even like Nina half the time.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re always trying to prove yourself to her. What I can’t figure out is why. Are you showing her that her sacrifice had value or is it about being unwilling to break the bond by being a well-rounded adult? If you don’t need her, then she ceases to exist?”

Averil straightened her legs and shifted the phone to her other ear. “That’s harsh.”

“It’s not inaccurate. Nina is the voice in your head.”

“You’re saying I hear voices?” she asked, her tone teasing. Anything to get him off this subject.

“I’m saying you can trust yourself. You won’t wake up and be your mom.”

Ouch. She pressed her lips together, uneasy with the sense of being exposed on more levels than she could count.

“Okay, then,” she said. “Thanks for the insight.”

She half expected him to apologize or ask if she was all right. Instead he drew in a breath.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he said.

“Sure. Later. Bye.”

Then he was gone. Averil flopped back on the bed and closed her eyes. Tears burned, but she ignored them. Kevin was wrong, about all of it. Just like her critique group was wrong. Maybe that story hadn’t been her best work, but it wasn’t as crappy as they said. Besides, who wanted to read a book about a gang rape? Not her. She wanted to lose herself in something that was an escape.

She sat up, not sure if she should go to the store or quit her critique group or start another project. Indecision made her limbs heavy.

Penny raised her head from her place at the foot of the bed. Her brown eyes were warm and affectionate. Averil stretched her hand toward her and rubbed her back.

“You know exactly what you’re supposed to do, don’t you? There aren’t a lot of questions in the dog world.”

She stretched back out on the bed and closed her eyes. Penny moved next to her.

Kevin’s comments nipped at her, making her uncomfortable. She wanted to say he was wrong, but she wasn’t sure. About anything. And she supposed that was what it came down to. How much of her life was chosen by her and how much was chosen
for
her? Of course a case could be made that no one really got to choose. In a perfect world...

She opened her eyes. That was it, she realized. She didn’t know what a perfect world looked like. She didn’t have a clue as to what she wanted. Not with her writing or her work or even her marriage. Certainly not about whether they should have a child now.

How ridiculous, she thought. Wasn’t it time to figure this all out?

* * *

“The wind direction is key,” Kyle was saying.

There was more plane talk. He didn’t usually go on about the technical aspects of his job, but every now and then he couldn’t help himself. Nina did her best to follow along, but when he started in with words like
G-force,
she was totally lost.

Not that her inattention was his fault, she thought. With everything going on these days, she was having a lot of trouble focusing. She kept thinking about the painting. That having it was going to change everything. Sometimes she worried it was all going to be a pain in her ass, but every now and then she allowed herself to think about possibilities. That maybe it would work out.

The money was hard to grasp. That amount. Who had ten million drop in their lap? Certainly not her. And even though the money was her mom’s and Bertie’s, it wasn’t unreasonable to think they might share.

A hundred thousand would pay for medical school, she thought wistfully. A hundred and thirty would cover the tuition and her living expenses, if she was careful. Assuming she could still get in. She wasn’t twenty-two anymore. Did she actually want to be a doctor, or was that something left over from—

“Earth to Nina.”

She looked at Kyle and saw him watching her.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “I was dealing with stuff.”

“I could tell. That or my lift-thrust ratio explanation needs work.”

She smiled. “It’s perfect. Don’t change a thing.”

He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “What’s going on? You’ve been distracted all night.”

“Family stuff,” she admitted. “Having my mom home is sometimes stressful. With Averil here, it’s more complicated than usual.”

The real problem was the painting, but as she’d asked the others not to mention it, she wasn’t going to say anything, either.

She watched his fingers stroking her hand. For once the feel of his skin against hers didn’t send waves of longing through her. If she was completely honest with herself, she mostly wanted to go home and spend the evening losing herself in mindless television.

“I missed you,” he said, staring into her eyes. “That was a long six days.”

“It was,” she said, even as she realized she’d been too busy with painting trauma to do much more than notice he was gone. “You have a lot of responsibilities with work.”

He shrugged. “Just national security.”

She smiled. “All on your shoulders? Impressive.”

“I can handle it.” He lowered his voice. “Want me to prove it to you?”

An invitation to his bed, she thought with a sigh. Because he wanted to sleep with her. They always had sex after dinner on their dates. Sometimes they had sex before. That’s what they did together. They ate and they had sex.

While the situation had never been dissatisfying before, tonight she wasn’t in the mood. Only it had been six days, and saying no seemed unfriendly. Or at least not girlfriendlike.

Only she wasn’t his girlfriend. This was a fling. Hot monkey sex with a cute guy. It was perfect. Right up until she wasn’t in the mood for sex. Because what exactly did she and Kyle talk about?

Fortunately he didn’t hear the convoluted conversation inside her head. And he took her silence as agreement. He waved their server over and paid the bill, then rose and walked her to his car.

Thirty minutes later they were at his place. Nina followed him into his apartment. He closed the door behind her, then turned and pulled her into his arms.

She went willingly, wanting to feel his mouth on hers. His lips were gentle but insistent. His hunger burned through her, as it always did, and she kicked off her shoes in anticipation of the wanting that would start her melting.

She wrapped her arms around him and brushed his tongue with hers. All sexy things. But instead of getting lost in growing sensations, she was aware of the faint taste of coffee and mint and the sound of the furnace clicking on. Somewhere outside, she heard a car horn.

She closed her eyes more tightly and rubbed her belly against Kyle’s erection. He was hard, she thought, picturing him naked. That was arousing. Naked hunky guy. Yum.

Only it wasn’t yummy or even appealing, she thought. And when he put his hand on her butt, she found herself stepping back.

“I’m not really...” She paused when she saw the passion in his eyes.

He was so adorable, she thought. Eager. Really sweet to her. The man had caught her when she’d fallen off the roof.

“I’ve got a lot going on right now,” she told him. “Let’s just make this about you.”

His eyebrows drew together. “What do you mean?”

Was the concept that difficult to understand? “I don’t think I can focus enough tonight.”

He moved toward her. “Sure you can. I’ll make it good.” He put his hands on her breasts and lowered his head to her neck. “I know what you like.”

He kissed his way along her neck to her ear. After nipping on her lobe, he licked the sensitive space right below it. At the same time, he cupped her breasts and rubbed his thumbs against her nipples.

But what should have been arousing only made her uncomfortable. It was as if someone had severed the connection between her head and her body. She knew what he was doing but didn’t really feel it. Not in a sexy way.

He dropped his hands to her hips, then reached for the waistband of her jeans. She stepped back.

“Kyle, I can’t.” What she meant was
I don’t want to,
but that sounded harsh. She put her hand on his erection, rubbing him through his jeans. “I’ll go down on you.” Oral sex was a regular part of their play, although usually it was mutual. Still, tonight, she couldn’t summon the interest.

He grabbed her wrist, stilling her movements. “You first.”

Annoyance joined exhaustion. “Kyle, I’m trying to make this as clear as I can. I’m not interested in having an orgasm tonight. Seriously. Maybe it’s hormones, maybe it’s stress. Whatever the reason, I don’t want to come.”

“We should try.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. “I can make it good.”

“No,” she snapped, and pushed away. “No.”

She fought anger, but could see he was only confused. Jeez, it was like arguing with a puppy.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I want to please you.”

“Then, let’s go to bed. Once we get started, you’ll like it.”

They were arguing in circles. “What part of me saying I’m not interested is confusing?”

“You’re not really trying.”

“So, you know what I’m feeling better than I do?”

He looked more wounded than upset. “No. But I need it to be good for you.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I just do.”

“Because sex is about winning, and you don’t win if I’m not begging for more?”

He have her that slow, sexy grin she usually adored. “Something like that.”

For the first time since he’d blown back into her life, she felt the age difference. What had been quirky and fun seemed ridiculously self-absorbed.

“I need to go,” she told him and started for the door.

“Nina, wait.” He touched her arm. “What’s wrong?”

She drew in a breath. Most of this wasn’t his fault, she reminded herself. Until a few minutes ago, she’d been just as interested in a sex-centric relationship.

“I’ll be better in a few days,” she told him. “There’s some family stuff I have to deal with. When that calms down, I’ll be back to normal.”

She knew she was being a complete wimp, taking all the responsibility on herself. That if she expected to have a relationship with Kyle, she needed to be honest with him. They needed to communicate. But it was all so exhausting, and this was a fling, right? No serious communication required. Wasn’t that the point?

He crossed to her, then lightly kissed her on the forehead. “You know I’m here for you, right?”

She nodded, then leaned into him. “I know. Thanks.” Then, before he could try to seduce her again, she picked up her bag and left.

Once she was in her car, she started the engine, then leaned back against the seat. She was unsettled, both physically and emotionally. Her skin didn’t feel right. Not too small or scratchy, but just uncomfortable. Like that half second before breaking out in goose bumps.

She glanced back at the apartment building, battling guilt. She’d done nothing wrong, she told herself, then wished she could believe herself.

Her phone chirped, letting her know she had an incoming text. Not Kyle, she thought as she dug out her phone and glanced at the screen.

It wasn’t from him. Instead the message was from Dylan.

Get to the store right away. Urgent.

She put the car in gear and headed out of the parking lot. From Kyle’s apartment she was maybe three minutes from the freeway. From there it was a short drive to the bridge and back to Blackberry Island.

At the stoplight by the on-ramp, she tried Dylan’s number, but it went right to voice mail. Next she tried Averil, but her sister didn’t answer. By then, the light was green, and she had to merge onto the freeway.

It was nearly eight in the evening. Rain fell, but it was still light enough for her to see without headlights. She crossed the bridge, then headed for the west side of the island. As she turned onto the main road, she found herself watching for an accident or smoke. Panic twisted in her chest and made her hands slippery on the steering wheel. She was just about to try her sister again, when she saw them.

Bright lights and news vans. Three of them, lined up on the side of the road. A crowd had collected to watch whatever was going on.

Nina parked as close as she could, then got out of her car and hurried toward the throng of people gathered around the lights. Nina pushed her way through until she could see her mother standing in front of Blackberry Preserves. The painting was on an easel, on full display for everyone. Apparently the key she and Averil had for the safe wasn’t the only one.