Just One Kiss: A Black Alcove Novel (The Black Alcove Series Book 1) (4 page)

“Oh you had IT handled, huh?” Her eyes roam
over my face. Where is the quiet, innocent girl I saw earlier
today? I guess the silent streak is over. As her eyes meet mine,
they look so cold I can’t help but take a step back. “Yeah,” she
says with a laugh, “your face is covered in blood. You had IT
handled real well.”

Blood.
Really?

I reach up to my face and sure enough, when
I touch my nose, there’s blood everywhere.

“You kicked me in the face,” I growl,
defending myself.

“You deserved it,” she says, jabbing her
finger into my chest.

As the sirens are getting louder, she begins
to look around frantically, turning to sprint away only to be cut
off when a police car pulls up in front of the house.

The cop gets out of the car, walks to the
front of his vehicle, and stops. He’s tall and in better shape than
I would think a cop his age should be. Definitely not someone I
want to mess with, and that says something since I work out every
day.

The cop stands with his hands on his hips
and begins to shake his head.

“Kelsey Brian,” he says, and a smile appears
on his face. “It’s been too long since I last saw you.”

As if the night weren’t weird already, the
fact Kelsey is on a first-name basis with a cop just made
everything about her more interesting.

Kelsey

Never say things could be worse. The moment
you think it, it happens.

Like right now, my cheating ex-boyfriend’s
father, who also happens to be a cop, is standing in front of me,
waiting to arrest me no doubt.

“Mr. Maron.” I roll my eyes and cross my
arms. I shouldn’t be rude, but this cannot be happening right now.
I want to get inside my car and leave this awful situation. It’s
cold out, and now I’m going to have to suffer this stupid wind even
longer. My urge to write is officially gone.

He nails me with his
judgmental glare, and I look everywhere but directly at him. His
presence is pushing all the wrong buttons as he stands there
looking well groomed with his ocean-clear blue eyes, blonde hair,
and sharp facial features that are an exact match to his
son’s.
Makes me sick.

The story of Tyler and me went way beyond
any clichéd story of walking in on your boyfriend and catching him
cheating red-handed. He was on the couch, lying naked on top of
someone. I heard a moan, and my gasping caught their attention.
That’s when another chick – also naked – came walking out of our
bathroom, asking Tyler where his other box of condoms was because
they were all out.

“Um, sir?” Ethan speaks up
somewhere behind me. I don’t move as my eyes narrow and peek
sideways until I can see him.
He’s still
here.
I can’t tell if I’m excited or mad
that the dark- haired god who arrived earlier today is back in the
middle of the night. Attacking me like some crazed
lunatic.

I watch as Ethan runs a
hand through his hair and lets out a breath. What’s he doing here
anyway? And where is his shirt? I take a quick glance and swallow
hard.
Never mind.
The shirt can stay gone.

His eyes don’t look cold
anymore—just the opposite, almost as if he feels sorry for me. How
can someone show so many emotions with just their eyes? They have
that added extra sparkle to them that you only read about in
books.
I smile at him and his face quickly
falls to confusion.

Wait.

I’m pissed at this guy. I’m
still standing here only because of him. I give Ethan another dirty
look that quickly fades when he starts to laugh.
Damn it
. If I don’t get
my thoughts in check, he will never take me seriously at
work.

“Young man, it’s probably best you head
home. This doesn’t concern you.”

He can’t be serious.

“It sure as hell concerns him.” I shift my
body and point at the culprit. “He attacked me while I was trying
to get inside. You should be arresting him, not sending him
home.”

“Attack you? I was saving these people,” –
he points to The Palace of Beige – “the hassle of dealing with a
robbery when they get home,” Ethan says.

Mr. Maron steps off the road and into the
grass to approach us. He releases a small laugh.

“What happened here? Who robbed who?” he
asks, confused.

“He attack—”

“She was break—”

Oh, Ethan did not just cut me off. I glare
at him and practically growl when Mr. Maron cuts us both off.

“Whoa now,” he says and holds his arms out
at his sides, warning us to keep our distance. Probably a good idea
at this point, since I’m so angry I’m sure they can see the flames
shooting from my eyes. Mr. Maron looks at me. “Kelsey, why are you
here?”

Dang right, he should ask me first.

“I’m housesitting and forgot my key. I left
the back window open and was making my way to it when this guy
attacked me.” I cross my arms again and with a smirk I give Ethan a
look that tells him this is over. He shouldn’t even try to argue
his way out of it. Ethan raises an eyebrow that clearly accepts the
challenge. My smirk vanishes and my breathing picks up.

Mr. Maron nods his head, pulling a small
notebook from his back pocket and removing the pen from the collar
of his shirt.

“Alright, what’s your name, son, and why are
you here?” His voice sounds sterner this time.

“Ethan Connelly, and I live
in that house.” He sounds annoyed as he points to the dark green,
not beige, house directly across the street.
He lives there?
“Some weird noises
woke me up, and when I looked out the window, I saw this chick
trying to climb this fence. I assumed she was breaking
in.”

First I’m an
it
and now I’m
some
chick
?

I give a sarcastic laugh and roll my eyes.
My name must have just slipped his mind.

Mr. Maron shakes his head, releasing an
aggravated breath.

“Next time, call the police. You can go home
now. I can handle things from here.”

The thought of being left alone with my ex’s
father worries me. He will ask questions and I’ll stay quiet, just
like I always do. We were practically family, and now it hurts too
much to talk to him. For a brief moment I consider asking Ethan to
stay. I open my mouth but he takes a step toward his house, giving
me a winning grin. My body shudders. Cocky guys are so
unattractive. Never mind that idea; I don’t need him. At the same
time Ethan steps off the sidewalk, I turn for my car.

“Wait a minute, Kelsey. We still need to
talk.”

Of course we do. Things can never be easy.
My shoulders slump forward as I impatiently wait for a man who was
practically my father-in-law to continue.

“It’s been awhile since I saw you last.” He
pauses. “You know you’re always welcome in our home, Kelsey. If you
ever want or need to talk…Emily and I are always here.” His voice
is so gentle, and I know he means every word.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself
before the waterworks start. For three years this man was more of a
father to me than my own. Yes, it’s wrong of me to shut them out,
but things are different now and I don’t want to be the crazy
ex-girlfriend who still hangs out with her ex-boyfriend’s family.
It doesn’t matter that Tyler is the one who invites me over half
the time. Says he still wants to be friends because I am and will
always be his best friend, but I don’t think I’m strong enough for
that. I can’t trust myself to look at him and not miss what we had.
What I had. A best friend I could tell anything to, who I thought I
could trust to always be honest.

“I’m fine,” I say, forcing the words out of
my mouth. It’s been long enough I shouldn’t let it affect me
anymore.

He doesn’t say anything as he comes up
behind me. He gives me a quick shoulder hug and then continues to
the porch. He stops at the top of the steps, looking around. If he
can find the hide-a-key for me, maybe I’ll talk.

I watch as he shines his flashlight around –
a real one, searching every crack, corner, and flowerpot. At the
door, he reaches for the knob, turns it slowly, and the door opens.
My mouth drops open when he looks back at me with an “are you
kidding me?” look that I choose not to respond to. I march right
past him and shut the door once I’m inside. Thank goodness he
didn’t find the hide-a-key.

Kelsey

The clock next to my bed
finally hits 7:00 a.m.. I toss the covers and slowly pull myself
from the guest room’s king-size bed. Sleeping was difficult last
night. I dozed off fast, but my mind wasted no time dreaming of
Ethan and the way he looked in just a pair of shorts. That’s a lie.
My mind dreamt more of what his body looked like
without
those shorts. His
entire body looked so firm that if I ever bump into him, I might
break something. I woke up after an hour, sweating and blushing at
how real the dream felt. Then, I fell back to sleep and the process
repeated itself over and over.

I pull a pair of sweats over my black
Spandex, grab a hoodie, and lace my shoes. Running is the best way
for me to gain a clear mind, and god knows I need to clear the shit
out of it right now. I tie my hair up and don’t waste any time
getting out the door. Since Ethan is successfully taking up every
available inch of headspace, today’s run won’t be anything short of
an hour.

* * *

I return to my parents’ house, shedding
myself of my hoodie and sweats, leaving myself in only my Spandex
and a sports bra to cool down. I stroll into the kitchen to fix
myself a cup of coffee and a quick breakfast. Every Tuesday and
Thursday I have my payroll class at nine in the morning and a
creative writing class at one. I couldn’t care less about payroll,
but I want to be 100 percent focused on creative writing.

I still have my headphones on as I pour
myself a cup of coffee, so when my cellphone rings, it changes the
song blaring music into my ears. I pull on the cord like my
headphones are on fire.

“Hello,” I greet, quickly holding my phone a
tiny way from my ears until they’ve stopped buzzing.

“Kelsey, what took you so long to answer and
why do you sound out of breath? Is everything okay with the
house?”

It should come as a surprise that my father
would relate my shortness of breath to the house, not my life,
being in danger, but it doesn’t. I‘m almost positive my father
never wanted a daughter. Once I got my first bra, he never
attempted to have a relationship with me, and he’s always favored
my little brother. They are so close it’s disgusting. Sometimes I
forget he’s our father and not one of my brother’s immature
friends.

It still stuns me that my father is even
letting me housesit for them. He could have hired someone, but my
father trusts no one. In fact, I’m sure I wasn’t his first pick and
my mother had to convince him to let me do this. Then again, my
brother doesn’t live in Wind Valley, so Dad doesn’t really have an
option.

“Hello, Kelsey, are you there?”

“Yes, I am, sorry. I went
for a run and just got back,”
No worries,
Dad, your precious house is just fine.

“Good. You haven’t had any problems, have
you? Mrs. Mulligan next door called your mother last night and said
there was a disturbance.”

I roll my eyes and prop my hip against the
marble counter to stare out the back kitchen window at Mrs.
Mulligan’s small blue and white house. She’s outside in her
gardening clothes but peeking over her back fence right into my
parents’ kitchen. She smiles and waves. I will have to talk to her
later.

“It was nothing, Dad, I promise.” I look at
my feet and take a deep breath. “Is Mom there?” I ask and he grunts
through the phone. He doesn’t answer me, but soon enough my
mother’s calming voice is on the line. My parents are the perfect
example of opposites attract.

“Hi, honey,” she greets me in her soft tone,
and my body relaxes completely. “How is your morning going? Have
you had any classes yet?”

“My first one is today
at….” I walk over to the table and open my backpack, which is
sitting on one of the chairs, and pull out my schedule. I know it
by heart, but I feel the need to read it one more time, and I
glance at the clock and then do a double take. My first class
starts in twenty minutes! My run couldn’t have been
that
long.

“I’m sorry, Mom, I have to go. I’m running
late. I love you, have fun!” I tell her and hang up the phone. I
swing my backpack over my shoulder and grab my keys off the table
before running out the door.

Ethan

Normally, I don’t wake up until I hear my
alarm beeping, but today is different. Today, the unfortunate sound
of someone’s car straining to start wakes me. By the sounds of it,
I won’t be falling back to sleep anytime soon. Any other day I
would be fine with it, but I’m already in a bad mood from a night
that made it difficult to sleep. Mainly because I can’t stop
thinking about Kelsey. The cop knew her by name, which is never a
good sign and it makes me wonder what she’s been up to. And
partially because my face feels like it was hit by a bus and it
won’t stop throbbing.

My phone rings at the same time I roll off
my bed. I grab it off the nightstand and the name Max Connelly is
flashing across the screen. My father.

“Hello,” I answer as I wander into the
bathroom. I tried to clean up the bloody mess on my face as best I
could before I went to bed, but the pain then was a good sign it’s
not going to look good now. When I spot my reflection in the
mirror, I’m not the least bit surprised. She got me good. My nose
is swollen, as are the two black eyes on either side.