My Soul to Take
Page 31

 Rachel Vincent

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Nash grinned when I didnt seem convinced, and his next glance lingered longer than it should have, then roamed south of my face. He might be under the impression that youumneed some serious comfort.
My heart leaped into my throat, and I had to speak around it. And you think youre up for the challenge? Flirting should have felt weird, considering the day Id had. But instead, it made me feel alive, especially with the possibility of my own death hanging over me like a black cloud, casting its malignant shadow over my life. Over everything but Nash, and the way I felt when he looked at me. Touched me
Nash shrugged again. Carter offered to pick you up himself.
Of course he had. Because he was Nashs best friend, and Sophies boyfriend. And my cousin had seriously bad taste in guys. As, apparently, did Nash. Why do you hang out with him?
Were teammates.
Ahhh. And if blood was thicker than water, then football, evidently, would congeal in ones veins.
And that makes you friends? I twisted to peer briefly into the tiny backseat, which was empty and still smelled like leather. And like Sophies freesia-scented lotion.
Nash shrugged and frowned, like he didnt understand what I was getting at. Or like he wanted to change the subject. We have stuff in common. He knows how to have a good time. And he goes after what he wants.
He could easily have been describing my fathers German shepherd. As could I, when I replied, Yeah, but once he gets it, hell just want something else.
Nashs hands tightened around the wheel, and he glanced at me with his eyes wide in comprehension, his forehead furrowed in disappointment. Is that what you think Im doing?
I shrugged. Your record kind of speaks for itself. And why else had he put up with so much from me? Why would a guy like Nash Hudson stick around through freaky death premonitions and possible brain cancer, if he didnt want something?
Or even if he did, for that matter? He could have put in a lot less work for a lot more payoff somewhere else.
This isnt like that, Kaylee, he insisted, and I wasnt sure I wanted to know what that was. This isWere different. He didnt look at me when he said it, but I felt myself flush anyway.
What does that mean?
He sighed, and his hands loosened around the wheel. You hungry?
HALF AN HOUR LATER, we sat in Scott Carters car with the front seats pushed back as far as they would go. The setting sun took up the entire windshield, painting White Rock Lake a dozen deep hues of red and purple.
I was well into a six-inch turkey sub, and Nash was half done with some combination of provolone, ham, pepperoni, and a couple ofmeats I didnt recognize. But it smelled good.
Id already dripped mustard on Carters gearshift, and vinegar on the front seat. Nash had just laughed and helped me mop it all up.
If I was dying, Id decided to spend every single day I had left eating at least one meal with Nash. Talking to him made me feel good, even when everything else in my life was totally falling apart.
I swallowed a big bite, then washed it down with a gulp from my soda. Promise me that if I do have a brain tumor, youll bring me sandwiches in the hospital.
He eyed me almost sternly, peeling paper away from his bread. You dont have cancer, Kaylee. At least, thats not why youre having premonitions.
How do you know? I bit another chunk from my sandwich, chewing as I waited for an answer he seemed reluctant to provide.
Finally, after three more bites and two false starts, Nash wrapped the remains of his sandwich and stuffed it between our drinks on the console, then took a deep breath and met my gaze. His forehead was wrinkled like he was nervous, but his gaze held steady. Strong.
I have to tell you something, and youre not going to believe me. But I can prove it to you. So dont freak out on me, okay? At least not until youve heard the whole thing.
I swallowed another bite, then wrapped the rest of my sandwich and set it in my lap. This didnt sound like the kind of news I should get with food in my mouth. Not unless I wanted to check out earlier than Id expected, with a chunk of turkey wedged in my throat. OkaaayWhatever it is, it cant be worse than brain cancer, right?
Exactly. He ran his fingers through deliberately messy hair, then met my gaze with an intensity that was almost frightening. Youre not human.
What? Confusion was a calm white noise in my head, where Id expected fear or even anger to rage. Id been prepared to hear something weird. I was intimately acquainted with weird. But I had no idea what to say to not human.
Either your aunt and uncle dont know, or they dont want you to know for some reason, which is why I didnt tell you yesterday at breakfast. But youre killing me with this whole brain cancer thing. He was watching me carefully, probably judging from my expression how close I was to flipping out on him.
And honestly, if Id had any idea what he was talking about, I might have been pretty close.
I think if they knew you thought you were dying, theyd tell you the truth, he continued. It sounds like theyre going to tell you soon anyway, but I didnt want you to think I was lying to you too. He flashed deep dimples with a small grin. Or that you have cancer.