66. Lorelei

66

LORELEI

T he second there's a knock at the door, both Wilder and Hendrix look my way.

"What? It's probably another one of Wilder's fan club coming to check on him and bring him goodies."

I laugh, but actually, the candy and chocolate the girls have been bringing for him have gone down really well.

Plus, it's given Hendrix and me plenty of reasons to tease our favorite patient.

Obviously, I knew that Wilder was popular with the girls at school. I've heard more than enough tales from both of them. But hearing about it on the phone and seeing it in real life are two entirely different things.

Wilder's eyebrows wiggle. "Booty call, you say?"

My eyes narrow. "Absolutely not," I say firmly. "You might rule this place while I'm away, but I am not sharing this shithole trailer with some screaming Wilder Kemp fan."

"Thank fuck for that," Hendrix mutters, returning his attention back to the series he and Noelle are watching.

"I'll go then, shall I?" I ask when Wilder doesn't make a move to get it despite the fact it's more than likely for him.

Wilder gives me one of his megawatt smiles, the one that gets him all the attention from the girls, before I push from the lumpy couch that's older than all of us put together and walk toward the door.

My eyes drop to the baseball bat that lives propped up by the entrance to our trailer.

There was a time when I wouldn't answer the door here without having it in my hand. Honestly, it's probably good practice to do it still. But when I get to the door, I only reach for the handle.

The second I pull it open, a waft of man's aftershave hits, and I can't help but take a small step back.

I know that scent.

I—

Then I see him.

My eyes widen, and my chin drops at the sight of Kian Callahan standing before me in this shitty trailer park in the kind of town I'm sure he probably thinks only exists in TV shows.

My heart begins to race and my hands tremble as I stare blankly at him.

I have to be dreaming. Right?

He doesn't say a word, nor do I—something that Wilder notices a few seconds later.

"Who is it, Lor?"

I blink, the sound of my brother's voice bringing me back to earth.

"It's…" I swallow thickly as he continues standing there on the other side of the door wearing a Ralph Lauren polo and what I'm sure are stupidly expensive designer jeans.

He does not fit in here. Not in the slightest.

"N-no one."

Kian's brow quirks at that.

In a panic, I attempt to swing the door closed.

I've no idea what I'm doing. All I know is that he can't be here. He can't see this.

He does not belong here.

But he's faster than me, and before I get a chance to slam the door in his face, his hand lifts, stopping me from shutting him out.

"Lorelei," he growls quietly, his voice broken and rough. "Don't do this."

He takes a step closer, and his scent gets stronger.

Some of the tightness I haven't been able to shake since I ran from his office two days ago loosens, and my stomach knots with a mixture of anticipation and confusion.

"You can't be here," I blurt, keeping my defenses up despite knowing it's probably too late.

"And yet, here I am," he says, getting impossibly close.

I might be inside the house and at his eye level but I feel tiny under his intense stare.

My heart rate becomes even more erratic, and it only gets worse when I hear footsteps approaching from behind me.

"What's going on? Who's—" Wilder's words are abruptly cut off as he steps up behind me and finds Kian on our doorstep. "Pretty sure you've got the wrong town, mate. No one wears Ralph around here. Well, not unless you want to get mugged in daylight."

"I'm in the right town. I'm at the right house, too," Kian confirms before sticking his hand out for my brother.

"It's good to finally meet you, Wilder. I'm Kian, Lorelei's?—"

"Boss," I blurt, stepping aside a little to see what Wilder will do with the proffered hand.

It's not the kind of way people around here greet each other, so color me intrigued.

"Can't say she's mentioned you," Wilder says, his own hands staying firmly at his sides.

"How are you feeling? I saw your tackle. You took quite the hit."

Suddenly, everything makes sense and I turn to glare at my brother.

"You posted about it?"

He shrugs. "Of course I did. My fan club, remember?"

"Jesus," I mutter while Kian snorts in amusement.

"So, are you coming in or what?" Wilder asks after looking between the two of us for a few seconds as if he'll figure everything out.

If only it were that easy.

"N-no, Kian is?—"

"I'd love to," Kian says, giving me a wide grin and slipping into our shitty trailer.

Fuck my life.

I stand there in the doorway, watching as he follows Wilder to the couch.

The TV has been forgotten and both Hendrix and Noelle are watching the scene play out before them, curiosity burning bright in their eyes.

I glance around our home and cringe.

The boys—okay, Noelle—do a pretty good job of keeping it tidy, but there's only so much you can do to make this place presentable. Something tells me that Kian has never seen anything like this before in his life.

Wilder drops into the spot he vacated and gets himself comfortable while Kian perches himself on the edge of the couch as if he's scared of breaking it.

"Would you like a drink?" Noelle asks politely before she gets up and walks to the kitchen.

"Yes, please. Whatever you guys are having."

She rushes into the kitchen and pulls the refrigerator open, plunging us back into awkward silence.

"Why are you here, Kian?" I ask bluntly.

His eyes hold mine, his expression softening. "Because you are."

Wilder coughs, and when I glance over, I find that he's trying to hide his smirk. Hendrix doesn't bother trying to hide his curiosity; he looks between the two of us with a soft smile playing on his lips.

My mouth opens and closes, but no words appear.

What the hell do I say to that?

"You shouldn't be here," I eventually repeat.

"We should give you some space to talk," Noelle says after returning with a can of soda for Kian.

It's an unbranded can from our local store, but if Kian notices he doesn't react. A smile twitches on my lips as he thanks her, cracks the top, and immediately takes a drink. He doesn't so much as wince despite the fact that we all know just how awful it tastes. It's just…it's the best we can afford right now. Beggars can't be choosers and all that.

"No," Hendrix says, speaking for the first time. "I think we need to hear why Lorelei's boss has come all this way."

Kian startles. I can only imagine what he must be thinking right now.

"I'm sure they will explain. Come on," Noelle says softly, grabbing the arm of Hendrix's shirt, ready to physically pull him away.

"No, it's okay," I say quickly. "We'll go. You guys stay put."

"Go?" Kian asks, lowering his can and staring up at me with hope and fear filling his eyes.

"I think we need to talk, don't you?" I admit, my chest tight with my own anxiety over this situation. Plus, I really need to get him out of this trailer and away from here.

"Yeah," he agrees, slowly rising to his feet. "Lead the way."

My heart is in my throat as I spin around and march back toward the door.

I'm reaching for the handle when Hendrix speaks again.

"Hurt her, and we'll come for you."

Disbelief and a huge surge of love for my little brother rush through me.

My lips part to speak, but Kian beats me to it.

"I have no intention of hurting her. I'm here to hopefully do the opposite."

"You care about her," Wilder muses.

"More than she's willing to believe."

Oh my god.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

"No offense, but we're not going to take that at face value. We're going to need solid evidence. We don't trust just anyone with our big sister."

The smile that spreads across my face is unstoppable, and it's still firmly in position as I step out of the trailer and descend the rickety old steps that lead me to ground level.

"I like them," Kian states behind me.

"They're both a pain in the ass," I say lightly.

"Anyone who protects you as fiercely as that is good with me."

I pause, the weight of his words pressing down on my shoulders.

He steps up behind me. The warmth of his body burns down my back and his breath rushes over the exposed skin of my neck.

My body sags in relief. The need to lean back into his is almost all-consuming.

But just before I do, I remember where I am and keep walking forward, my eyes widening when I take in the car sitting in our driveway.

"You brought a Mercedes here?"

I look back just in time to see him shrug.

"I just rented a car."

"Well, I hope you took out the extra coverage, because if you stay here much longer, I can guarantee that you won't be taking it back with four wheels attached."

"I guess that all depends on how long I'm welcome for."

"You don't want to stay here," I say dejectedly as he pulls the passenger door open for me.

"Says who?" he asks, lowering down and getting into my space. "I certainly don't want to be in Chicago without you."

My breath catches. The honesty shining in his eyes makes mine burn with emotion.

"Get in, Lorelei, and then tell me where to drive so we can talk."

My legs follow orders and a heartbeat later, my ass hits the soft leather seat and he closes the door on me.

I sit there in a daze as he joins me and then backs out of the space.

I keep my eyes on my lap. I know exactly what we're driving through; I spent the best part of my childhood trying to survive here. The thought of Kian seeing it too makes shame bubble up inside me.

I don't want to be the girl from the trailer park in the deadbeat town everyone's forgotten. Not when he's the high-flying CFO of Callahan Enterprises.

We don't fit, and I fear we never will.

"You're going to need to tell me where to go," Kian says lightly as he pulls to a stop at the exit to the trailer park. "Left or right?"

"Uh…left."

He takes the turn and we fall back into silence.

The only time I speak is to give him directions. But he's not quiet because he doesn't have anything to say—I can practically hear all the thoughts whizzing around his head. But for as much as I want to hear them, I know they're going to floor me.

I'm not ready, but I no longer think I have a choice.

I ran when it got too hard, and he chased me.

If I ever needed proof that he meant everything he said to me Friday night, then I guess it's currently staring me right in the face. Or at least, sitting beside me.

"Pull up over there," I say, pointing to the farthest corner of the parking lot I directed him to.

He brings the car to a stop and kills the engine.

"So—"

"We're not there yet," I say, pushing the door open and jumping out.

Without waiting for him, I walk around the front of the car and then take the well-trodden track that leads to the beach.

It's been a long time since I came to hide down here. It seems like the perfect spot for the conversation we need to have.