I forced a fake smile. “Like a baby,” I said.
He rolled his eyes. “You are such a shitty liar.”
Mona set a plate of food in front of me, distracting me immediately. I loved breakfast food and didn’t give another thought to Kade’s comment as I dug in to the eggs, bacon, and toast. After a few minutes, I glanced over at Kade, who was sipping his coffee and watching me.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” I asked around a mouthful of food.
“Already did.”
“Mona, this is amazing,” I said to her. “Thank you so much.” It was such a treat to have someone cook for me. It never got old, and since my mom had died, I’d never again taken it for granted.
“You’re welcome, dear,” she said with a soft smile, giving me a little hug around my shoulders before leaving the room.
My nerves returned with a vengeance without Mona nearby as a buffer, and I didn’t try to talk to Kade anymore while I ate.
“I have class this morning,” I said after I’d cleaned my plate, getting up to put it in the dishwasher. “Can I borrow your car? Or can you drive me to mine?” A reprieve from both Blane and Kade would significantly decrease my stress level.
“I’ll take you to class,” Kade said.
I frowned as I turned back to him. “What? Why?”
“Blane can’t say for certain if the Gage situation is resolved,” he replied, his tone conveying exactly how he felt about that. “He delivered a warning, but neither of us is willing to risk it.”
“I don’t want a bodyguard,” I objected.
“Too bad.”
I glared at him, crossing my arms over my chest. “So you’re just going to tag along with my every move?” I didn’t know if I could handle that. Not now. Not with the weight of my secret pressing so heavily against my chest that it took effort to just draw breath.
“That’s the plan.”
“I don’t like that plan,” I retorted, echoing his words in Vegas.
He smirked appreciatively. “Consider me your private tutor,” he said.
I thought of the other girls in my class and how quickly they’d decide they needed “tutoring” once they got an eyeful of Kade.
Kade found a place to park on campus, then walked me to class. I caught more than one pretty passerby taking a second look at Kade and wondered if he was checking them out, too. Not that I cared if he were.
Right.
“You can’t bring your guns in here,” I said in an undertone as we stepped inside the air-conditioned building. A sign was plastered to the door about no firearms allowed.
Kade raised his hands. “I don’t see a gun. Do you see a gun?”
His innocent act didn’t fool me for a second, but he just gave me his telltale smirk and followed me to class.
The summer session was nearly over, so the class wasn’t as full as it would have been during a fall or spring term. Kade and I found seats in the back of the small auditorium. Since I’d missed class on Tuesday and the final was next week, I asked a student nearby if I could copy her notes. She and I had spoken a few times before and she readily agreed. I began writing while waiting for the class to begin. Kade slouched in the seat next to me, his long legs splayed in front of him and his sunglasses hooked on his shirt.
His pose got me thinking and I asked, “So what kind of person were you in high school?” I glanced at him before resuming my copying. “I’m imagining you to be the guy in the back of class who was always smarting off to the teacher.”
Kade raised an eyebrow. “I’m hurt,” he said, pretending to take offense. “I was a model student.”
I stopped copying and just looked at him until he cracked.
“Okay, that might not be precisely true,” he amended.
“Shocker,” I teased. “You were that guy the girls whispered about, the one who never followed the rules, which only made you more exciting and dangerous. How many teenage hearts did you break, Kade?”
He laughed lightly. “I think your imagination of me is much more interesting than reality.”
Somehow I doubted it.
“And you were the good, quiet, shy girl,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he studied me. “Always sat in the second row. Not the front—that would attract too much attention. Made good grades, but not like the cutthroat genius types who loaded up on honors classes. Went to the homecoming football game, but not the dance. Never had a curfew because you didn’t need one, because you weren’t the rebellious kind.”
I smiled a little at his perceptiveness. Spot-on so far.
“Your mom was your best friend,” he continued, leaning over his desk toward me as his voice grew quieter. “And you couldn’t stand to be in the same house, the same town, all alone without your parents, which is why you did something so utterly out of character as to sell the house you grew up in and move away from the only home you’d ever known.”
I wasn’t smiling now. It was no secret to me why I’d left home the way I had, but it was jarring to hear Kade spell it out like that and to realize… he knew. He knew exactly how it felt to be alone and lose everything that meant anything to you.
My wide eyes were locked on his and he frowned at whatever he saw in mine. His next words were barely more than a murmur.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
My breath froze in my chest and I felt the blood leave my face in a rush. How? How could he possibly know?
I was saved by the professor entering the room to start class. I could barely concentrate on what was said, though—Kade’s too-close-to-home psychoanalysis had me rattled. Not to mention his comment about what I wasn’t telling him. Kade had always been able to see through my lies. How was I going to keep the secret?
“What class is this again?” Kade whispered in my ear. His warm breath fanned across my skin and I instinctively jerked away, his proximity reminding me too much of when he’d been even closer in Vegas.
He gave me a what-the-hell-is-the-matter-with-you look as I stammered back, “Um… Criminal psychology.”
“This guy is full of shit,” Kade snorted.
The girl I’d borrowed the notes from glanced back at us with a frown.
“Keep your voice down,” I hissed at Kade.
“Are you listening to this guy?” Kade asked, making somewhat of an effort to be quieter.
I hadn’t really, no. My mind was occupied with other things. But apparently the question was rhetorical because Kade kept talking.
“All this crap about why criminals do what they do—it’s all bullshit. The whole my-daddy-hit-me-therefore-it’s-okay-if-I-abuse-little-kids or I-get-depressed-sometimes-so-let’s-kill-some-people.”
“Then how do you explain it?” I asked. If Kade had personal insight as to why people did bad things, I certainly wanted to know.
Kade looked at me. “Some people are born bad, and that’s just the way it is.”
I remembered what he’d said about himself while he was drunk in Vegas. We weren’t talking about your average bad guy. We were talking about Kade.
“Or maybe,” I said, “some people just think they’re born bad, but that’s not who they are. Not really.”
“And you think you can tell the difference?”
The way Kade had touched me, made love to me, told me he loved me—all of it went through my mind. “Yes,” I replied with absolute certainty.
Kade’s eyes studied mine before he at last looked back toward the still-speaking professor. “You’re delusional,” he muttered.
I hid a smile at his disgruntlement. I didn’t care what he persisted in believing about himself, I just wanted to make sure he knew I refused to think that of him.
Kade refrained from making any further comments on the course material and soon we were heading back to his car. He slipped his sunglasses on and I caught myself taking way too many covert glances at him as we walked.