Oh, my God. He’d been here the whole time? What the hell?
“A beautiful girl looks at you like you’re God her entire life,” Kai continued, shifting something small and red from one hand to the other over and over again, “and you’re never going to get anything better, because there is nothing better, and you still can’t say it? Do you know how lucky you are?”
Michael stood silent, his eyes narrowed on Kai. He wasn’t going to argue with him. He never would. Giving Kai’s accusation any attention would give it credibility.
Kai dropped his eyes, still spilling the small red items from hand to hand and looking solemn.
Do you know how lucky you are? Had it real tough, haven’t you?
“What are those?” I asked, tightening the shirt around my chest.
“Shells,” he answered.
Shells? I peered more closely at them, seeing the gold ends and tattered heads, scrappy and blown out.
Shells. Shotgun shells.
And they’d been fired. My heart started thumping.
“Why do you have them?” Michael demanded.
But Kai just shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Why do you have them?” I demanded, stepping in.
I knew Kai was struggling, but why the hell did he have shotgun shells?
“They’re from the last time my grandfather took me shooting clay pigeons,” he explained, no emotion in his voice. “I was thirteen. It was the last time I remember being a kid.”
He stood up and walked down the levels, a white towel wrapped around his waist and his black hair slicked back.
“Sorry I didn’t make myself known sooner,” he said, approaching us. “I guess I…”
He trailed off as if thinking better of what he was about to say.
“You guess you what?” I asked.
He shot a glance at Michael before averting his eyes, admitting, “I guess I wanted to see if it would turn me on.”
Heat spread up my face, and I remembered what he’d said about not touching a woman in three years.
Had it really been that long?
He moved to walk around us, but I instantly stepped in front of him, not sure why.
He was so fucking lost and guarded, and if he was going to talk, I didn’t want him to stop until…
Until he felt good again.
“Did it?” I asked, barely audible. “Did it turn you on?”
His eyes shifted, and I saw him swallow like he wasn’t sure what to say. Maybe he was afraid of Michael. Maybe he was afraid of me.
I didn’t know why I did it, but I slipped off Michael’s shirt and let it fall to floor, feeling Michael tense next to me.
Kai kept his head level but his eyes were on the floor, staring at the shirt.
Every hair on my neck stood up, and I worried about what Michael would say or do or if he’d hate me, but something made my push forward.