39. Vulnerable

39

Vulnerable

KINGSTON MOORE

Placating her was Kingston’s foremost thought.

Nicole was right. They weren’t boundaries. They were walls, and they were there for a reason.

Don’t say it. Please don’t say it. Please don’t utter it, ever.

The world is a finite place, a means to an end that were ends to the end, ideas and connections and people and worlds that die.

The words like broken teeth that had come tumbling out of his mouth at the end of supper were all the pain he could withstand.

No more, he silently begged her. No more.

“This isn’t fair, Kingston. I’ve let you into my whole life,” Nicole said, her dark eyes haunted. “You’ve invaded where I work, my friends I hang out with, heard my thoughts, and know my dreams. I’ve offered to take you to Sunday dinner at my parents’ house, but you always have to fly back to Connecticut on Sunday afternoon.”

“Yes,” he said. It was all true.

“But you are an enigma wrapped in a mystery locked in a secret box.”

“You know some things,” he said.

‘I know you went to boarding school and have some friends from there. You’re good at golf, and you’ve golfed a lot of places. You have some mysterious connection to Last Chance, Inc., and you’ve said you’re not a spy for them.”

“Yes.”

“But there’s a black cavern beyond that. I’m beginning to feel like I must be a chatterbox if I’ve talked so much all this time that you haven’t been able to get a word in edgewise to tell me anything.”

“That’s not true.”

“I’m beginning to think I’ve screwed up again , that the reason I don’t know anything about you is because you’re a cheater or in the mafia or something.”

How often had she used the word cheater to mean the worst betrayal she could think of?

That cad had destroyed her trust.

Kingston wasn’t the right guy to mend it.

He kept his breathing calm, and his racing mind slowed. “You want to be let into my life more.”

“Yes!”

“I’m not a cheater,” he told her, catching her gaze with his. “I told you I’m not married or in a relationship with anyone but you. I meant it.”

She nodded, but tears lined her dark eyes in the candlelight.

Kingston half-rolled and leaned over the edge of the bed, the mattress sagging where he was reaching, and grabbed his trousers on the floor to get his phone.

The time on the face read one o’clock, Eastern Time.

He tapped the phone icon and then the top on the recent-call list, putting the call on the speaker.

Nicole watched him, looking from him to the phone, her worry widening her eyes.

After the ringing, a man’s rasping voice. “Hello? Kingston? You okay?”

Kingston said, “Are you in the city yet for the Javits Center golf show this week?”

“I was planning on catching the train at ten tomorrow morning,” he said, his voice low. “This morning, I mean. Do you know what time it is?”

“Sorry about the time. I’m still on a West Coast schedule. You want to have lunch tomorrow?”

“Uh—sure?”

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Kingston said, looking straight into Nicole’s eyes.

She blinked, and her luscious lips dropped open a little.

“Yeah, whatever. Okay. I’m going back to sleep, Skins. Text me where and when.” Click.

Nicole raised one eyebrow. “Skins?”

This, Kingston could tell her. “My high school nickname was Skins. I discovered the gym during my sophomore year of upper school and played rugby on my school’s travel team. You know, murderball. I bulked up early, and people noticed I was always on the ‘skins’ team during pick-up games of absolutely anything because I was fifteen and wanted to show off.”

The funny little light he loved returned to her eyes.

“Rugby. Nickname. And lunch with a friend of yours.”

“Yes.”

She sat back on the bed a little. “Okay, for now.”

“I need to text Morrissey to tell him where our reservation is.”

Nicole looked off, and her head bobbled oddly as she asked, “Morrissey? Like Jim Morrissey?”

“Morrissey Sand.”

“Oh, okay.”

Kingston texted Morrissey, Rao’s, noon. DONT mention Im Last Chance. Just a sales guy at Sidewinder, but you know me from boarding school. You helped me get job at SG. *Not kidding.*

NOTHING about my parents etc.