All-consuming.
“I’m going to let Kane know you’re stuck with me today, but I just want to make sure he doesn’t need anything. He seemed to be fine yesterday, but I can tell he definitely needs some help when the cameras are rolling. He goes into a trance, and he would probably not even notice if a tornado came blowing through. I’m sure Zander is around here somewhere and can pick up the slack. Plus, I wouldn’t feel right being paid for nothing, and so far … I’ve done nothing. You’re stuck with me.”
She nods and walks over to the makeup trailer. My attention is diverted for a brief second when I see the amount of people with cameras trained in my direction. They’re standing on the other side of a barricade that the local police had set up. I know they can’t actually get in here, but seeing them with their cameras snapping away toward me is a little unnerving.
A vision of my face being on one of the tabloid magazines that Kane’s always a front-page star of fills my mind. Crap. I don’t know why the thought didn’t cross my mind before. Being with Kane is a guarantee I will be put out there and judged. I’m not sure what I would do if they were to print what I’ve thought myself. I’m not good enough to be at his side. Pick me apart for the world to see.
I calm myself down but make a mental note to talk to Kane about that. Maybe he doesn’t want to deal with what would follow if we were to be seen together. That would explain why he hasn’t mentioned anything past our time in Georgia. The old Willow would have let this fear consume her, but I’m determined to change, and I really need to trust I’m strong enough to handle more than I believe. Be the change I wish for myself. That’s what I need to do.
I open the front doors and enter the high school. The front office area of the school is massive with a long hallway that leads into the classroom sections within. This had become a central hub of sorts. There are tables set up with different types of equipment, and a few other areas around them acting as a ground zero of sorts.
I see Kane talking to Zander and another man. When I reach Kane, he dismisses them. With a hand pressed against my lower back, he leads me over to where a table of refreshments is set up. He looks around to see if we have privacy before turning his attention toward me. His eyes look like the clearest sapphires.
“Are you ready for tonight?” he strangely questions. His tone is light, but I don’t miss the demand within his words.
“Tonight?” I probe.
His eyes linger on mine, brows slightly raised and a slow smile twitches his lips. A second later, he shifts closer toward me, closing what little space separated us.
“Yeah, baby, tonight. Fuck, I haven’t been able to get the thought of tonight off my mind yet.”
I swallow thickly and have to clear my throat. Frowning, I ask, “Kane, what—?”
His mouth opens and I stop talking; his smile dims slightly and he runs one of his hands through his thick hair. He seems to be sitting on the edge of confusion and uneasiness, but why? Didn’t we leave things in a great way last night?
“I meant every word I typed last night, Willow, but the question is, did you?”
With an uncertain tone, I open my mouth and lamely say, “Huh?”
He offers me a bemused smile, surprise dances across his handsome face before he looks at me with a question of disbelief. Clearly, he knows something I don’t.
“How about you check your phone and get back to me.” He leans down, presses his lips against mine, and breathes deeply before leaning back. He takes a few steps backward, his head shaking with silent laughter. “I’ll be waiting,” he says oddly and turns.
What in the world?
I reach behind me and pull my phone from my back pocket. I stuffed it there before I left my room, but in my rush and after Kirby’s weird lesbian act this morning, I don’t think I even looked at it once.
I don’t have any notifications. The screen just displays the date and time. I slide my finger across the glass and unlock the phone. No emails. No missed calls. No little red dots on any of my other apps. I open my email folder first and frown when I don’t see anything new or from Kane. My call log doesn’t show any voicemails. My brow pulls in slightly when I click on my messages app and see Kane’s name as one of the last received text.
When did this happen?
Pressing my thumb to his text line, I almost drop my phone when I see what takes over the screen. I know I let out a loud gasp.
Oh, holy shit! I don’t even hesitate to curse when I usually avoid it at all costs. Holy. Shit. Indeed.
My shocked eyes snap up from the evidence that my drunken self clearly had some fun last night when I hear Kane’s booming laugh from where he’s standing with one of the techs I didn't recall meeting yesterday. His eyes capture mine, and when I see him wink, I feel like I might melt into a puddle of aroused embarrassment right here in the hallways of some middle of nowhere Georgia high school.