“Are you cold?” he asked her, more for something to say than anything else. It wasn’t cold out.
She nodded. “I know I shouldn’t be, but I am.” Her voice held none of her body’s quaver. She cast a look at the body in the corner. “I hate that he’s in here.”
“I know,” Tyler said. He moved and sat next to her, and tucked her errant strands of hair behind her shoulders. “We’re okay, though. And we’re going to be okay, you know. They’ll be back.”
They would be. He’d been telling himself that since the car pulled away. Wouldn’t it be easy for them to disappear? To leave them to dispose of the body and never return?
“I know.” She would have sounded almost annoyed, but the desperation in her words gave her away. She was shaking harder now, and clasped her hands together like she was trying to stop it.
“Come here,” Tyler said, and he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her tight to his chest. “I’m warm.”
But the truth was, Tyler was as cold as she was, even in the warm, summer night air. Although his actions had every appearance of comfort, he needed to touch her. He needed to touch her more than he’d ever needed anything in his entire goddamn life.
And she melted into him. He had always thought of Kinley as hard and cold and haughty, but she was anything but. She was soft, and warm, and made him feel things he had no right to be feeling with his professor’s dead body a few feet away.
Tyler held Kinley tighter.
“I can’t believe we’re here,” he whispered, and his breath moved strands of her hair. “I can’t believe we’re—this.” He didn’t look toward the corner.
Kinley straightened and pulled away. She put her hands on his legs. “Can I say something?” she whispered.
“Anything.” Tyler looked into her eyes. She was beautiful like this. She was actually really beautiful all the time. Her dark skin. Her impossibly light brown eyes, which were just a little too close set. It made her look too serious and he liked it. “Anything, Kin.”
He felt his body respond to her. He shouldn’t be feeling like this. He shouldn’t. It was wronger than wrong. If he wasn’t going to hell by helping to cover up a murder—well, he was now.
Kinley squared her shoulders and her hand tightened on his knee. “I’m glad he’s dead.”
Tyler stared, and drew back a little bit. “What?”
Kinley glared toward the body in the corner. “He was a foul, angry man who enjoyed hurting people. I’m a good student, Tyler, and he was going to fail me. He hated me, and for what? Talking to you? And it wasn’t just me. He hurt everyone. You included. And so I’m sorry. I just can’t feel bad that someone so horrible is dead. And yeah, I wish I hadn’t accidentally tripped him. I do. But I don’t care that he’s not coming back. In fact, I’m glad.”
Something flashed quickly across Tyler’s mind and was gone just as quickly—had Kinley tripped him on purpose?
No. Hell no. Never.
“Do you think I’m horrible?” Kinley asked, peeping up through the loose strands of her hair that had fallen back over her shoulders.
Tyler took her hands. “No,” he whispered. “No, Kinley. I don’t.”
He understood why she said it. In a way, he wanted to agree. But deep in his heart, he knew that he would have gone to military school to make this go away. He would have done a stint in juvie.
He wanted out.
But he wanted to identify with her too, so he said, “You know if I had failed the course, I would have ended up in military school.”
Kinley frowned. “I can’t imagine you in the army. You’re too . . . free.” She rubbed his arm.
Tyler smiled, but it was wry and dark. “I can’t go. My brother needs me too much. He—relies on me.”
Kinley drew back a little. “Your older brother? He needs you? Isn’t he some golden-boy Olympic hopeful? He relies on you? I mean, no offense, but I thought it would be the other way around.”
Tyler laughed, just one short “ha.” “You’d be surprised, Kinley. Some people will do anything for a little success.”
“Like?”
Tyler shook his head. “I just need to be there for him. I’m his brother, you know?”
“Sure.”
But Tyler knew Kinley didn’t get it. And he couldn’t explain it to her. He couldn’t explain it to anyone.
Outside, the rain started again and the thunder boomed in the distance. Kinley burrowed against him, her head on his chest, and for a moment, in the old, musty barn, lit by old-fashioned gas lamps, he felt a strange sense of satisfaction. He held her close and touched his lips to her hair.
If he never had to leave this moment, never had to deal with his parents or his brother or the screwed-up shit that was lying there, right now, in the corner, and he just had Kinley and she just had him, he would be okay.
Of course, part of him knew that wasn’t true. Knew it wasn’t even close to true.
But he wanted nothing more than to believe it.
And she lifted her head. She looked up at him, her eyes big and sorrowful and sexy, and he kissed her.