Hourglass (Hourglass #1)

Hourglass (Hourglass #1) Page 42

“Oh.” I inwardly flinched at the pain I saw on his face. “Are you okay with that?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I love Cat, but she doesn’t know how to deal with me these days. I sure as hell don’t make it easy for her. And when I try to read her—her emotions are all over the place.” His voice sounded vulnerable, completely wrong for someone with an exterior as tough as Kaleb’s. “Fear, guilt, anger, regret. I guess over my dad, or over the fact that she’s not even thirty and now she has a ward who’s almost an adult.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t think of you as a ward,” I said reassuringly, rolling up the damp paper towel to give my hands something to do. “I think she’s genuinely worried about you. How long have you known her?”

“It feels like I’ve always known her. She’s always been there. She’s like a sister to me. But she shouldn’t have to act as my guardian. Things shouldn’t have to be this way.”

“She cares about you. A lot of people do.”

“What about you, Shorty?” He smiled down at me. “Do you think you could?”

He wasn’t talking about friendship. The water from the paper towel practically turned into steam that rose from my skin. “Kaleb, I—things are—I mean, this isn’t the right time for—”

I heard the sound of a throat clearing, and I whipped my head around. Michael stood behind us. I wondered how much he’d heard. I realized how we looked from his viewpoint, Kaleb’s arm around my shoulders, me looking up at him. I stood so quickly I almost fell over my own feet. Shoving the paper towel into my jeans pocket, I faced Michael.

“Hey!” I said, my voice too loud and too bright for the situation. “What happened with Cat?”

“She wants to think about it.” He seemed uncomfortable, looking back and forth between Kaleb and me. “We’re all supposed to meet up at the house tomorrow afternoon so she can give us her answer. And so she can apologize.”

“She agreed she’d said the wrong thing to Emerson?” Kaleb asked. He stood, too, moving to stand behind me. Close behind me.

“She agreed she said the wrong thing, period,” Michael answered, his voice tight. “To all of us.”

A cell phone started ringing, and Kaleb jostled to pull his out of his pocket. A picture of a girl with her glossy lips puckered in a seductive kiss popped up on the screen. He held up the phone and gestured awkwardly. “I probably need to take this.”

He turned his back to us and answered in a low voice, “Hey, baby.”

I wanted to know more about what Michael and Cat discussed, but suddenly all I could think about was escape.

“Okay.” I pulled out my keys and began anxiously spinning the ring around my finger. “I’m … uh … going to head out. Michael, I’ll touch base with you later about tomorrow.”

I gave half a finger wave to Kaleb’s back. Then I turned tail and ran like a coward.

At least as fast as I could run in my heels.

Michael called out, “Em, wait up.”

I kept going, still spinning my keys. I didn’t look at him when he fell into step beside me. Once again, foiled by my short legs. “What?”

“I wanted to talk to you about—”

“You don’t need to ask me if I still want to save Liam. I do. Nothing Cat said changed that. And I don’t need you doubting me,” I said, unreasonably irritated with him. We reached the car and I turned around to lean against the driver’s-side door, bracing myself for an argument. “I can make my own decisions, you know.”

“I’m sure you can.” He tapped his fist on the roof of the SUV. “But that’s not why I followed you. I wanted to ask you … how … um, experienced are you with guys?”

I froze, my spinning keys slowing to a stop and landing with a smacking thud against my hand. Tilting my head to the side, I stared at him. “What?”

Looking at the ground, he used his hands to gesture as he fumbled for words. “I … er … don’t mean it that way, not like the physical …”

There was no way I was about to tell him the closest I’d ever come to a make-out session was my adventure with him against the wrought-iron fence. Nor did I think he’d be interested in my middle-school Spin the Bottle disasters. How was my romantic life any of his business? Realizing I still had my hand up in the air, I lowered it, willing myself not to use my key ring like a set of brass knuckles. “Are we really having this conversation?”

“All I wanted to say … I know Kaleb can be very … appealing.” Michael said the word like it was a bad taste in his mouth. “Even though we argue, he’s my best friend, but …”

“But?” I prodded.

“He’s very … When it comes to girls … he’s made some bad …” He stepped away from me, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Forget it. I don’t have any right to tell you who you should or shouldn’t see. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not seeing anyone. I don’t know what you thought you saw back there, but it was just a conversation.” I was torn between being pleased he cared and pissed he thought it was any of his business. “Kaleb and I have a lot in common. We were talking. That’s all.”

“I get that.” His frown lines grew deeper. “But … Kaleb doesn’t always use his brain when it comes to girls.”

“What teenage guy does?” I’d always been told they used quite a different part of the male anatomy. I wondered how this day had spiraled so completely out of control. From my fight with my brother to meeting a drunken Kaleb to revealing our time travel plans to Cat to … a discussion of my nonexistent sex life?

Damn, I was tired.

Michael was staring at me. “All I’m saying is that he can be … indiscriminate when it comes to hooking up. I wouldn’t want you to be hurt.”

My sudden headache was fierce, threatening to split my skull wide open and spill my brains out onto the pavement. “Well,” I said, “if Kaleb and I hook up, I’ll be sure to remember that.”

“Oh, no, wait … you took that wrong. Emerson, wait!”

Without another word I got in the car and slammed the door behind me, clicking the locks and revving the engine. The last thing I saw as I peeled out of the parking lot was the horrified look on his face.

Chapter 35

The pain in my head caused my stomach to churn in protest. I wanted my bed. And complete darkness.

And chocolate.

I dragged myself up the stairs, opening the door to find my loft empty. Thank heaven. Grabbing a bottle of water, some pain relievers, and a candy bar from Dru’s emergency stash, I noticed it was barely eight o’clock. Not too early for nighty-night.

If you were seven.

I didn’t care. I was too busy being grateful I wouldn’t have to add a confrontation with my brother to the list of the day’s defeats. I left Dru’s keys on the counter along with a note that I was exhausted and going straight to bed. Seeking comfort, I took a long shower before pulling on underwear and one of Thomas’s old soft-as-silk undershirts.

Making sure my windows were locked, I fell into bed. I didn’t want to take the chance that Michael would come back to his loft and try to force a face-to-face conversation. I turned out the light and scooted down so that the covers were over my head, closing my eyes and hoping sleep would come with the sheer force of my will.