My Soul To Steal. Rachel Vincent
“What do I really want?” Nash asked, humoring her, whereas I wanted to roll my car over her foot.
“You want to know why Kaylee’s suddenly grown a pair.”
He frowned. “Enlighten me.”
She twisted one mismatched earring and shrugged. “I laid the cards out on the table. It’s only fair that she knows the stakes, right?”
Except she’d left one of those cards out of her disclosure. They both had.
“Damn it, Bina.”
“What?” She rolled her eyes, like I was the one being unreasonable. “I told her the truth. You can’t get mad over the truth.”
Oh, yes, we could. The truths between me and Nash hurt as badly as the lies.
Nash dropped his bag on my passenger’s side floorboard and turned back to Sabine. “I’ll see you later.”
Sabine—Bina? Really?—scowled, then leaned in with one hand on the roof of my car, wearing an ironic, almost respectful smile. “Well played, Kaylee.”
Nash got in and closed the door, and I drove off, leaving her standing there alone.
“I’m not playing her game, no matter what it looks like,” I said, as I turned left out of the parking lot.
“Good. The only way to win is by refusing to play. Trust me.” But he was smiling as he said it, like she was a toddler whose antics were still cute and harmless.
I did not find Sabine cute. Or harmless.
“Advice from your days in Fort Worth?”
Nash ran one hand through his thick brown hair, leaving it tussled in all the right places. “Based on observation, not experience. She doesn’t play games with me. She doesn’t need to.”
“She’s been back in your life for one day, and you sound like she was never gone.” I braked at a red light, and unease crawled up my spine. How deep must their connection have been, if they could pick up right where they’d left off more than two years before?
He exhaled heavily. “How am I supposed to answer that?”
“It wasn’t a question.”
Nash twisted in his seat to face me, and his expression made my stomach churn. “We got caught up last night. And I’m sure once she gets used to the fact that I want you in my life, she’ll—”
“No, she won’t.” I’d just met her, and I understood that much. My hand tightened on the wheel and I took a right at the next light. “She threw down the gauntlet, Nash. Like I’m gonna fight her for you.”
“I know. I’m sorry, Kay. But it’s not a physical fight she wants.”
“What do you want?” I demanded, taking the next curve a little too fast. “You want us to fight over you? You get off on this—two girls, no waiting?”
He sighed and stared out his window. “Days like this I wish I had a car.”
I rolled my eyes, though he wasn’t watching. “Days like this I wish you’d tell me the whole truth for once, instead of leaving little bits of it lying around for me to follow like a trail of bread crumbs.”
A moment passed in silence, except for the growl of my engine. Then he exhaled slowly and turned to look at me. “I’m guessing Tod told you?”
“He shouldn’t have had to.”
“I know. I tried to tell you, but Sabine …”
My pulse spiked in irritation. “You’re going to be saying that a lot now, are you? ‘But Sabine …’?”
“Do you want to talk, or are you just going to throw barbs at me?”
I exhaled deeply as I turned the car into his driveway. “I haven’t decided. How’s my aim?”
“Dead-on.” He pushed his door open and hauled his backpack out of the car, and I slammed my own door, then followed him into the house. I hadn’t been there in two weeks, but nothing had changed, except that someone had taken down the holiday decorations.
“You want something to eat? Mom made blondies.” Nash dropped his backpack on the worn couch, then pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen.
“Just a Coke.” I followed him into the kitchen, where Harmony Hudson glanced up from the breakfast table in surprise.
“Kaylee!” She crossed the small kitchen and wrapped her arms around me in a warm hug, her soft blond curls brushing my face. “I’m so glad you’re back.” Then she pulled away from me, frowning with her hands still on my shoulders. “You are back, aren’t you?”
Nash groaned with his head stuck inside the fridge, then emerged with two cans. “Laissez faire parenting, Mom. We talked about this.” He handed me a soda, and Harmony let me go to scowl at her son.
“That was before I spent two weeks nursing you through withdrawal from a substance more dangerous and addictive than anything the human world has ever even seen. I think that’s earned me a little latitude, even if you are old enough to vote.”
“Fine.” Nash’s jaw clenched in irritation, but he’d never disrespect his mother. That much had not changed. “Kaylee’s just here to talk. Let’s try not to scare her away.”
Harmony gave me a hopeful smile, then handed me a paper plate piled high with blondies and shooed us out of the kitchen.
I followed Nash to his bedroom, where he sat on the bed and leaned back on the headboard, leaving the desk chair for me.
“Was Sabine in here?” I set the plate on his nightstand, glancing around his room as if I’d never seen it.
Nash popped open his can, his posture tense and expectant. He watched me like I was a bomb about to explode. “Does it really matter?”
“Yeah.” I set my can on his desk and faced him, fighting through suspicion and fear so I could focus on my anger. “Your ex-girlfriend just told me she has no problem going through me to get to you. So yes, Nash. It matters where you were when you talked to her until after two in the morning.” Because that’s as far as I’d narrowed it down so far. She was here until after two. When I was sound asleep, and probably already dreaming about them making out in front of my locker.
Nash closed his eyes, then opened them and took a long drink from his soda. Then he met my gaze. “Yeah. We were in here.”
My chest ached. I don’t know why finding out where they’d been made it worse—I knew they’d only talked. But knowing they’d been in his room made it more personal. Made it sting more.
“On the bed?” I asked, when I’d recovered my voice, hating how paranoid I sounded.
“Damn it, Kaylee, nothing happened!”
“Right. I heard. But did this ‘nothing’ happen on the bed?” I couldn’t breathe, waiting for his answer. “Was she on your bed, Nash?”
“For the last time, she’s just a friend,” he said, his voice low, the wet can slipping lower in his grip. “She’s the only friend I have right now who knows more about me than my football stats from last season.”
I knew more about him than that. I knew a lot more. But I hadn’t come to see him even once while he was working his way through withdrawal, because I couldn’t deal with it. The wounds were still too fresh. Too raw. When I thought about Nash, I thought about Avari, and the things they’d each let the other do to me, when I wasn’t in control of my own body.
In the painful silence, I popped open my Coke, just to have something to do with my hands. “So … what is she?”
Nash looked up, obviously confused. “I thought Tod told you …”
“He