I Stand Before You (Judge Me Not #2) (18 page)

I watch as Kay takes it all in, the plain wood floor, the bare walls, the complete lack of décor.

“Well,” she says at last, brow crinkled, “you kind of have a minimalist vibe going here, but everything is very tidy.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, you should have seen it before. I cleaned before you got here.”

“So, you’re secretly messy?” There’s a twinkle in her caramels as she asks.

I shrug one shoulder. “Maybe a little—not too bad though.”

Kay continues to glance about, her gaze eventually falling to the sketchbooks on the dresser.

“Are those your drawings?” she asks, all cute-like, her voice excited. “Can I see them?”

I wince. The sketchbooks she’s asking to see contain my sketches from prison, and, unfortunately, I don’t feel quite ready to share them with her just yet. Bad enough Father Maridale flipped through one of them that day at the courthouse.

“Maybe not those books…” My voice trails off.

My girl’s expression gives away her disappointment, so I backtrack. “I mean…you can see them, just not right now.” I run my fingers through my hair.
How do I put this?
“The sketches in those books are a little harsh, Kay. I’ll let you see them, I promise, just some other day. If you really want to see some of the things I’ve drawn, there’s a better sketchbook in the dining room. There’s a bunch of stuff in there, all recent, and much…nicer.”

Kay nods, but still appears a little crestfallen. I want to put the smile from earlier back in place, and I think I know just how to do it.

“Hey, there is something I’d like to show you. It’s pretty cool and I think you’ll like it.”

Kay perks back up. “Really, what is it?”

I go over to the window that’s opened a crack, open it all the way, and take out the screen.

“What are you doing?” she asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she walks over to see what I’m up to.

“Just trust me on this one.” I hoist one leg over the sill, to where the roof is even and flat. I straddle the open window and offer her my hand. “Come on, I want to show you where I go to sketch, and, sometimes, just to think. The view from up here is amazing, better than the one from the kitchen window even.”

I kind of can’t believe I’m sharing this private piece of myself, but I know Kay will get it. She gets me, she’ll get this. She kicks off her low heels, game again for one of my suggestions. Trusting, my sweet girl is so damn trusting when it comes to me. I need to be careful with that.

Trusting girl puts her hand in mine and we smile at one another. I swing my other leg out onto the roof and help her over the sill. It takes some care since she’s in a dress, and it is kind of a short one. I try not to look when it rides up, but I do catch a glimpse of white, silky panties. I try not to groan as I think how much I wish I could touch her there, right fucking
there
.

Kay hurriedly straightens herself out once we’re out on the roof, and I turn so I’m not staring.

There’s a long ledge next to the window and I sit down on it. I stretch out my legs and pat the spot next to me. Kay comes over and sits down. A light, warm breeze kicks up while the sun sets off in the distance, streaking the sky in hues of red, orange, and pink.

“This is the kind of shit I draw when I’m up here.” I motion to the sunset.

Kay and I are sitting so close that when I bring my knees up to sit more like she is our bare feet almost touch.

“It’s peaceful up here,” Kay says, curling her pink-painted toes next to my foot, “and very scenic. I can see why you like it.” In a softer voice she adds, “Thank you for sharing this with me, Chase.”

Kay gets it, just like I knew she would. I smile at her, and then we just sit quietly and watch the sun sizzle into the horizon. I am decidedly happy I shared something so important to me with someone who always seems to see what I see.

I shift slightly and the sides of our feet touch. Neither of us makes any move to change positions. So, with bare feet pressing close, her warm skin against mine, I point to off in the distance, to where the tree line begins. “Part of the creek Harmony Creek is named for runs through there. You can’t see it from here with all the trees filled in, but it’s just over the hill.”

“Do you own the land down by the creek too?” Kay flexes her foot and I nudge back with my own. She stares straight ahead, but I catch her shy-girl smile.

“Yeah,” I answer after a beat, trying to suppress my own lips from curving up into a silly grin. “I go down there to fish sometimes.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun.”

Wait, what?
I shoot her a sidelong glance. “Really?” My voice betrays my skepticism.

“What?”

One more flex, another nudge, and two surreptitious smiles, one from each of us.

“I just can’t see you fishing,” I say.

The breeze blows Kay’s hair and she tries to smooth it back into place. “Oh, really? Why is that?”

I nod to her dress, raise an eyebrow. “Oh, I don’t know, girly-girl. Just don’t see too many lacy dress-wearing people down at the creek.”

I chuckle and she huffs, “Like I’d wear this dress to go fishing, Chase.”

She rolls her eyes dramatically, but I can tell she’s not really offended; she’s just playing like we do.

“I’d probably catch more than you,” she continues, all sure and cocky as she turns her head away and raises her chin a little.

“Ooh, a challenge.” I nudge her foot. “Wanna bet on it?”

She looks down at our feet, which are closer than ever. “Sure. What are we betting?” she whispers.

“I get to pick the terms?” I ask, astonished she’d allowed such a thing.

Her caramel eyes meet mine, and damn, my girl looks determined. “Well, you pick whatever I have to do if you win. And I’ll pick what you have to do if I win.”

I think about it for a minute. I’m pretty fucking sure I
will
win, so I want to make my prize worthwhile. What’s the one thing my girl has been holding out on, something that’s been driving me crazy?

I say it now, “If I win, you move into my apartment.”

Her eyes narrow. “Chase—”

“Oh no, baby girl.” I can’t help but smirk, she walked right into this one. “You agreed. You said I get to choose whatever I want if I win. And that’s what I’m picking.”

“Fine, fine,” she mutters. “But if
I
win then
you
have to sit up in the front of the church for, let’s say”—she ponders—“an entire month.
And
you have to sit between me and Missy.”

Fuck, I better win
, is all I can think as I quickly look away. Sitting in the front would be bad enough, but sitting between Missy—who’s had my dick in her mouth—and sweet girl Kay? Uh-h-h, no fucking way, talk about uncomfortable.

Nonetheless, I agree to her terms, a deal is a deal. Besides, I am so going to win this bet, there’s really no doubt about it. We shake on it to make it official, and since it’s getting late I suggest we go back inside to get started with a movie.

Once we’re back down in the living room, I turn the TV on and hand Kay the holy grail—also known as the remote. But first I show her how to work it.

“Go ahead and pick something,” I suggest when she pulls up the on-demand menu. “I’m game for anything. I’ll go grab us something to drink, okay?”

Kay mock-rolls her eyes. “Sure, as long as it’s nothing lemon-lime flavored.”

She may sound all disgusted, but there’s a teasing twinkle in her eyes.

I put my hand on my chest and back up a few steps, pretending to be wounded. “Hating on the lemon-lime? That’s just plain wrong, Kay, blasphemous even.” I point at her. “Admit it, you tried one last week and loved it. You know that shit is awesome.”

“Okay, okay, it was good,” she admits, letting out a laugh. “I don’t know about awesome though…” She trails off and I frown. “Oh, quit looking at me like that. Fine, lemon-lime it is.”

I tell her I’m just kidding and if she really wants something different I also have iced tea and beer, but she insists on the lemon-lime. Maybe Kay wants to help me get the sodas, or maybe she wants to keep talking, but, in any case, she puts the remote down and follows me to the kitchen.

She doesn’t come in all the way. She just kind of lingers in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room while I get the drinks. I can see her over the door of the refrigerator and it’s apparent something in the dining room has caught her attention. She takes a step back, grabs whatever it is, and holds it up. It’s my sketchbook.

She arches an eyebrow at me. “You said I could see this when we were upstairs, remember? Do you mind?”

I close the refrigerator door and give her a one-shoulder shrug. What the hell, I did say she could see it. I try to think of everything that’s in there. Since the book is new, the sketches are recent, which means it contains just shit I’ve sketched around here. Various views from the back porch, sunsets from the roof—like the one we were just viewing. I think and I think, recalling all that I’ve drawn as of late.

There are sketches of fields and farmland, a detailed tree branch with apple blossoms I did in oil pastels, and a charcoal of the empty barn at the back of my property.
Yeah, it should be fine
, I finally conclude,
there’s nothing in that book that could potentially embarrass me. Except…

Fuck, too late. Kay is already looking down at a loose page, one torn from the book, one with a fold in the center. I know exactly what she’s found—the sketch I did of her the day we met. The one I folded and tucked in the back, the one I couldn’t bear to throw away.

Well, that decision just bit me in the ass.

“Ah, Kay,” I mumble, cringing.

“You drew me,” she says softly as she gazes down at the sketch. She doesn’t sound angry or offended, like I fully expect her to. Nope. Instead, she sounds kind of awed and…pleased.

I run my fingers through my hair, press my lips together. I decide to just be honest, more or less.

“The night I drew the flyer for the apartment, uh, after I was finished…I kept picturing you in my head. It was the same day we’d met in the parking lot. So, I sketched you the way I remembered…” I nod to the drawing, still in her hands “…the sweater, the dress, it’s what you were wearing that Sunday.”

“I remember perfectly,” she whispers. She looks at me, then at the sketch, then at me again. “And is this how you saw me that day? How you see me in general?”

I take a breath. Hmm, this could go either way. True, she looks very, very pretty in the drawing, but she also looks very fucking sexual. But I drew it, I need to own it.

I say, “Yeah, it’s how I see you, Kay.”

I wait for the fallout, but it never comes.

Sure, her cheeks pink. That makes me smile, though, knowing I caused it. This reaction doesn’t seem bad, no, not at all. Kay seems happy.

“But,” she begins, astonishment in her tone. “I look so…sexy, maybe…and kind of
beautiful
.”

She says the last word like she can’t believe I’d see her like that.

Shit, what should I do?

This is where I
should
take a step toward her, but I can’t. If I do I
will
kiss her, I’ll shower her with words, tell her how sexy and beautiful she is, and how I want her so badly that it fucking hurts.

If I do even one of those things, I know it will lead to more, much more. And I’ve made a promise—to myself, to Father Maridale.
Fuck.
All the stuff I thought I had so under control, I apparently so do not.

So, like an idiot, I try to blow it off. I flippantly say, “Of course you look good, Kay. You’re pretty.” It’s a cop-out, a scaled-back response.

I don’t go to her, like I should, like my heart tells me to. I don’t take her in my arms, don’t cover her in kisses. Nope, I just stand there near the doorway, two lemon-lime sodas in my hands, saying lame-ass shit that doesn’t even come close to expressing the depth of my feelings for this beautiful, sexy woman.
What an ass I am.

Surprisingly, Kay doesn’t seem too upset. In fact, my girl is fucking beaming, staring down at the sketch, like something she’s been curious about has just been answered, and in the way she was hoping.

In a very-pleased tone, she says, “Thank you, Chase.” Her words are soft and quiet, accepting, happy.

She folds the drawing and slips it back in the book. And I know that she knows, she fucking knows. I see it in her eyes, the smile she’s trying to hide. She knows I see her as much more than “pretty.” To me, she’s fucking beautiful.

I hand her one of the cans of soda and suggest we get started on picking out a movie. Once we’re back in the living room, we debate, all in fun, over what to see. I tell her to make the final choice. I assume she’ll choose one of the chick flicks she was pushing for, but she picks an action film. I’m quite certain she chooses that one because she thinks I’ll like it, which is sweet, but I don’t really care. I’ll watch anything with my girl.

Besides, I can barely pay attention. I’m entirely too preoccupied, trying to figure out what’s really going on with us, ’cause there most definitely is something happening here. And whatever it’s been up to this point, it just grew more powerful this evening.

I can no longer deny this “something” that’s been building between us for weeks, and it feels bigger than the both of us. It’s like I’m caught up in a current, a current of destiny. And, frankly, I’m losing my will to swim against it.

That little realization tells me what I’ve known—but resisted—all along: friendship will never be enough. Not for either of us.

We start out on opposite sides of the couch when we sit down to watch the movie, but it’s like we’re subconsciously drawn to one another as the show progresses. There’s some space between us at the moment, but not a lot. Kay is sitting kind of sideways, leaning toward me with her legs tucked up under her. I am leaning to my left, in her direction. I didn’t move closer to her on purpose, nor do I think she did to me. We just seem to gravitate to one another.

See, destiny
, my heart tells my stubborn brain. My brain shoots my heart the finger. But my heart just laughs, smug, confident it will win in the end. And I kind of want my heart to win, but there are so many reasons why I shouldn’t.