Over the moon, p.13
Over the Moon, page 13
Someone calls my name from across the open grass, interrupting our conversation. I look up and see Vicky grinning and waving at me from just outside the cafeteria. “Jesus,” I mutter under my breath before catching Hope’s knowing stare.
“You sure about that?”
With an exasperated sigh, I shake my head. “I am not interested in Vicky. Trust me.”
“All right.” Hope throws her hands up in defeat. “I’m not the one you need to convince.”
“And how am I supposed to convince Silver of that? I’ve already told her.”
“Silver is more of an actions-speak-louder-than-words type of girl.”
I should have guessed that one. “Okay, then tell me what she usually grabs from the staff room after breakfast, and I’ll get started.”
Hope grins. “She’s definitely a muffin girl. Normally bran or blueberry. But I think her favorite is chocolate, though she’d never say so out loud.”
Knowing Hope is on my side is like an explosion in my chest. I kneel and swoop her up to swing her around in a hug. “I owe you,” I tell her as I run off.
“I’ll remember that!” she yells back.
17
A LITTLE BIT WHOLE
SILVER
I see the chocolate muffin before I see who is holding it. My stomach is growling, and it practically roars when I get a whiff of the fresh bakery item. Then I see the man who is offering it, his long arm extending it toward me, a cocky smile on his face. He knows it’s my favorite, which means Hope probably told him.
“You didn’t have to do that.” I can feel my cheeks heat as I say the words. Obviously, he didn’t have to, but he wanted to.
“I didn’t want you to eat alone. Besides…” He looks around the front office where he found me when he walked in. “You said you had to set up for Dr. Blaine. Figured you could use a hand.”
I take the muffin from him, praying he can’t sense the shock my heart is absorbing at this very second. “Thank you. That’s either very thoughtful of you, or calculated.”
His smile slips into a smirk before he props an elbow on the front counter and leans into it. “Calculated how?”
“You always seem to find a way to get me alone with you.”
His good-natured chuckle is almost as surprising as his gesture. “Well, then I guess you would be right on both accounts. It was thoughtful and calculated. Do you need a hand or not?”
“Need?” I tease. “No. Want? Yes, please.”
He lets out an exaggerated breath with a roll of his eyes. “Thank you, Jesus. Where do we start?”
I point at the large folded-up tent in the corner of the room. “If you grab that, I’ll take the hand truck.”
“Deal.”
We work in silence at first, focusing on the heavy lifting then on setting up the tent. We are on our way back to the office for our second load when Kingston says, “So, I stayed through yoga. A deal’s a deal.”
I’ve already had the internal argument with myself about our little deal from this morning. I knew Kingston would come to collect, and I won’t back out. Not after all he put himself through, quite hilariously, might I add. I’ll never get the sight of him trying unsuccessfully to twist himself into a million different pretzels out of my mind, not even if I wanted to. So I’m going to give him this one thing without a fight.
“So, what’ll it be? Are you going to teach me how to throw a football or something?”
He shrugs. “If you want, but that wasn’t what I was thinking.”
I narrow my lids at him, waiting for the punchline.
“Meet me at the dock tonight.”
“What?” I ask with a laugh. “You’re going to take me swimming? We’ve already done that.”
He steps an inch closer to me and playfully nudges my side. “No, sassy one. Just meet me at the dock. It will be a surprise.”
I don’t know if I like the sound of anything Kingston wants to surprise me with, but I bite my tongue this time, deciding to play along. “Okay. I’ll be there.”
And it’s a done deal. Kingston helps me with the next two loads, keeping his cocky quips to a minimum. By the time we’re done setting up, Dr. Blaine is making his way over to us.
“I was trying to get here earlier to help. You’re a lifesaver, Silver.” Dr. Blaine walks right up to me and smiles, completely ignoring Kingston, who’s standing beside me.
“Oh, it’s no problem. Thankfully, I had some help.” I sneak a look at Kingston, who has his eyes narrowed on Dr. Blaine.
“Ah, yes, I remember you. How is the young boy doing today?”
“Haven’t seen him yet,” Kingston says, his tone cold and emotionless. “I’ll bring him over today so you can check him out.”
“Wonderful.”
The entire exchange between the men is so awkward, I can feel my insides trying to squirm away from where I’m standing. Luckily, the discomfort doesn’t last long, because kids and coaches start to make their way onto the field.
“I better get out there,” Kingston says backing away, his gaze lingering on me. After a second of our eye-lock, I swear my insides are flipping pancakes in my stomach. Then a smile finds his lips, and he leaves me with a wink.
“That was nice of your boyfriend to help you out.” Dr. Blaine doesn’t ask a question, but I can sense there’s one there.
Part of me wants to lie by omission to let him think whatever is on his mind. But the other part of me, the part that thinks I’m a fool to even play with that notion, is the one that wins. “Kingston isn’t my boyfriend. He’s just—” I have no idea what to say. No idea what he is to me or even what’s going on between us. So I say the safest thing that comes to mind. “A friend.”
“Good to know,” he says. “Shall we get to work?”
I don’t miss the satisfaction that comes with Dr. Blaine’s words. It makes me more uncomfortable than the exchange between both men earlier. “Yes, of course.”
“My offer still stands. I’d love to take you out for a drink if you can sneak away.”
Dr. Blaine and his persistence are a newer development that started after Kingston paid a visit to our tent with Lincoln and proceeded to flirt blatantly with me the entire time, tugging my hair and leaning in to whisper compliments about my eyes or my scent. I knew what he was doing, but it didn’t stop the flush in my cheeks from rising as time went on.
I give Dr. Blaine my best sympathetic frown and shake my head. “I’m so sorry. I already have plans tonight. Should I have everything set up for you in the morning?”
He gives a quick shake of his head. “No, that’s okay. I’ll be here to help you. See you tomorrow, then?”
I push out a smile and nod. “Tomorrow it is.”
As soon as he’s out of sight, I lock up behind myself and rush to my cabin to change. I throw on my red swimsuit, a tattered pair of jean shorts, a pale-blue tank top, and white sandals, then I head down the dirt trail to the dock.
Kingston is already there when I hit the small clearing leading to the water. He’s sitting in a canoe at the end of the dock, a cheesy grin plastered to his face. “Your chariot awaits.”
With every step closer I take, there’s a buzzing in my chest that grows louder, faster, and more intense. He isn’t just waiting in a canoe. The canoe is filled with all the blankets and pillows I lent him that first day he arrived, and I recognize the takeout boxes from the kitchen.
“Why does this look like a date?”
He doesn’t even flinch. “It’s an adventure, just as promised.”
“I thought we were doing something we’ve never done before.” I laugh, trying not to expose my nerves as they shoot off in my body. “I’ve ridden in a canoe before, Kingston.”
His jaw gapes with mock shock. “But you haven’t been in one with me.”
He’s got me there. Giving up my weak battle, I walk the rest of the way to him. I drop into the canoe, and as soon as I’m settled in across from him, he rows us away from the shoreline, out of the small inlet, and away from Camp Dakota completely.
“It’s beautiful here.” Those are the first words out of his mouth since he started rowing, and they’re probably the sincerest I’ve ever heard him speak.
He’s barely rowing at all now, and we’re moving slowly around the Orcas Island coast.
“Yeah,” I say, looking out at the shoreline. “It didn’t take me long to fall in love with this place. In a way, it felt like I was always meant to be here.”
“I can see that.” He settles his gaze on me. “You fit here like one does when they grow up somewhere. It just embodies you.” He doesn’t realize it, but he’s just complimented me in the best way.
“It took me a long time to feel like I fit in here. After my dad died, it was kind of hard to accept that I’d fit in anywhere, you know?”
Kingston tears his eyes from mine and nods. “Yeah, I get that. I’ve lived in Seattle for three years, and I still don’t have that feeling. I figured with me playing pro ball, making enough money to do whatever the hell I wanted, and living in a city like that, I would finally grow some roots, you know?”
“Why do you think you haven’t?”
He shrugs, his eyes still set on the horizon. “It’s all the same shit. The money didn’t change anything. The city only made the partying easier. And playing ball—it’s always been my end goal, so I can’t complain much. Maybe I’m not meant to ever feel settled. Maybe that’s what makes me so hard.”
His lip curls up at the corner, and a flutter erupts at my stomach as I take in just how drop-dead gorgeous Kingston Scott is. It’s like he’s made of dreams and romance books. If he weren’t sitting with me right now, I wouldn’t believe he’s real.
“Where did you grow up?”
“Portland,” he says smoothly. “And you?”
I should have anticipated the question, but I’ve been so focused on Kingston and all he’s revealing that I didn’t prepare myself. I stumble over my thoughts, until he finds my eyes from across the small boat.
“Before you moved here, where did you grow up?”
I swallow over the crashing of my heart against my ribs. “Phoenix.”
I’m not telling him anything more than I would tell Hope or the Bexleys, but for some reason, the admission to Kingston feels big. He’s practically a stranger. I can barely stand the guy, yet here I am, listening to him pour his heart out while I feel the tug to do the same.
“Wow,” he says, his evergreen eyes sparkling in the sun. “You came a long way from home.”
“Like I said, it didn’t feel like home there anymore.”
“And you ended up here by fate.”
I sip in a shallow breath, surprised by how much he remembers from our conversation the night before. “I did.”
He assesses me with his gaze then nods. “Then so did I.”
I bite down on my lip, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel so I can turn the questions back on him. “You never did tell me why you came here. You said you didn’t volunteer to be here. I got the impression you were forced.”
There’s another tug of his upper lip, but this time, it doesn’t result in a smile. It’s more like annoyance. “It’s not important.”
“It is to me.” I tilt my head, waiting for him to register my seriousness. “I don’t think there’s anything you can say to me that will make me feel differently about you, if that’s what you’re afraid of.” I see the rise of his brows and cut him off with a laugh. “My opinion of you is already pretty low.”
He rolls his eyes before letting out a laugh. “See? That’s exactly why I don’t want to tell you. I’m trying to get you to like me, not despise me more.”
I shove away the effects of his flattering words and try again. “Well, you’re not going to win me over with lies.”
He growls before finally shaking his head, signaling that he’s given up the fight. “Fine. But I’m not turning this boat around, no matter how mad you get at me.”
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Don’t worry. I can swim.” He cuts me with a look so sharp, I have to laugh. “Out with it, Kingston.”
“To be honest, I don’t know exactly why I’m here. I’m supposed to be figuring that out. Zach thought it would be good for me after—” He peers back at me with a worried expression before sighing. “After Coach bailed me out of jail.”
My jaw drops. “Jail? What did you do?”
“Public intoxication. I got thrown out of a bar, and my friends who I’d gone there with were nowhere to be found. I don’t know what happened that led to me getting arrested exactly. I woke up behind bars, Coach picked me up, and now I’m here.”
“Why did you get thrown out of the bar?”
His wince is almost loud enough to hear. “Pissed off a bouncer, I guess. Like I said, Silver, I don’t remember much. But it was bad enough to get sentenced to this place.”
“This place is not that bad.” I smile back at him to show him I’m not at all affected by his story. Sure, I was a little thrown, but it’s no mystery that Kingston has his demons. We all have them.
His expression calms over the next few seconds as he rows us under a bridge. “If it weren’t for you, I probably would have left by now.” His words are quiet, but I don’t miss a single syllable.
“Because I brought you blankets and pillows.”
His cheeks lift. “Maybe. But I also couldn’t leave without getting to know the woman who was set on hating me so much.”
An inferno of heat blasts through my body, rising up my neck and into my cheeks. He’s impossible to be around without feeling a range of emotions I can’t seem to make sense of. Do I like him? Do I hate him? Do I want to get to know him? Do I want him to go away? Is he hot? Is he annoying? Is he cocky? Is he charming? He seems to be all of those things, but the more time I spend with him, the more I realize that’s all the armor he wears to hide what’s truly inside.
A short while later, as we’re coasting through Moran National State Park, Kingston unpacks the dinner he grabbed us from the kitchen—two bottled waters, roast beef sandwiches, and a couple containers of steamed veggies. We pick at our food while he tells me about the vast difference between high school sports, college sports, and the NFL.
I can’t remember ever watching a football game in my entire life, so it’s all fascinating to me. The impact of the sport, the training involved to keep in tip-top shape and outperform the thousands of hopefuls who would kill to take Kingston’s position, all sounds so intense.
He’s rowing back toward camp when he says, “Look at that.” He pauses midrow and nods, gesturing for me to look to my right, so I do.
The sun is setting over the horizon, painting a canvas of pink and purple swirls around it. “Oh, wow,” I gush. “That’s so beautiful.”
Kingston rests the paddle on his knees, and together, we watch in silence as the sun dips below the horizon. Not long after the sun slips from our view, the nightlife comes alive.
We’re back in the inlet of camp when disappointment fills me. I don’t want our canoe trip to end. Kingston seems to have the same thoughts, because as soon as we get to our dock, he ties a long rope to an anchor on the dock and pushes us back out into the middle of the inlet.
“What are you doing?” I laugh.
“We’re not done yet.” His eyes brighten with his smile as he scoots onto the blankets set out in the middle of the canoe. He props a couple pillows behind him then lies down, patting the spot beside him. “Come here.”
Panic sets in, causing me to freeze in my seat. “Kingston, I can’t—”
Even from here, I can see his frown. “Bullshit.”
“Well, I shouldn’t.”
“That’s bullshit too. You should, and you will.”
He pats the spot again as I have another internal debate in my head. This time, my heart feels like it’s joined the battle. My head loses, my heart wins, and I sink down to lie beside Kingston as the night sky darkens.
Our sides are pressed together from our shoulders to our legs, but Kingston doesn’t make a move to touch me other than that. We stare up at the moon, which hangs directly above our heads, and let the silence settle around us. It’s like we both needed this night. The stillness, the quiet, with nothing but water wrapping around us. At least to me, it’s been a reminder of the big world that lives and breathes out there, like it’s waiting for me to come home and deal with my past, once and for all. Do I make myself vulnerable, yet again, and claim my trust fund? Or do I let it all go and let Lucinda win the battle for my inheritance? She wouldn’t be a threat anymore since she would have what she’s always wanted. And I would be free. Truly free. Not the kind of freedom I felt when I left home that night to seek refuge. Back then, I was running to survive. But now, as I stare up at the great big moon—all I want to do is live.
“What are you thinking about?” Kingston’s low voice brings a chill with it.
I can’t tell him what I’m really thinking, but I can give him something. “I was just remembering when I was a kid, camping out with my father. We’d always end the night like this, with our eyes on the sky, studying the stars and the moon like it held the answer key to everything.”
“Maybe it does.”
My heart skips at Kingston’s optimism. “Maybe. My dad sure would have liked to believe that.”
“What phase of your life would he say you’re in now?”
I do a double-take, failing to hide my shock at Kingston’s memory of our conversation the other night. I don’t need to think about his question long. I follow the cycle of the moon, like someone would a calendar. “Waxing gibbous.” I bite down on my lip, knowing Kingston will find it funny.
Sure enough, Kingston’s chuckle dances through the air. “You’re going to need to elaborate on that one.”
Releasing my lip, I smile. “Waxing just means that it’s getting bigger, at least it appears that way. Really, the sunlit part of the moon becomes more visible. And gibbous refers to the shape.”
