Sniffling, I muttered, "Kellan...?"

He looked up. Glistening, his eyes met mine, the passion that had flared in them such a short while ago, now completely extinguished. "I tried to do the right thing. Why couldn't you just let me leave?" he whispered roughly.

His question fractured my heart into a thousand pieces and the sobbing started yet again. Shaking, I grabbed my jacket from the floor, stood up and moved towards the closed door. Kellan looked back down to the floor and made no move to stop me. I quietly opened the door and took one last look at him. Still kneeling with his shirt in his hands, I finally noticed the thin, bright red streaks down his back, ending with fine trails of dripping blood. I gasped and made a move towards him.

"Don't," he murmured quietly, never moving his head. "Just go. Denny has probably noticed your absence by now." His tone was flat and very cold.

In tears, I threw open the door and ran into the cool night air.


Chapter 10

Hot and Hotter

There were three things that I noticed when my mind slowly started coming to life again in the morning. The first was that my body was sore. Apparently the previous night was rougher than I had remembered. Oh god...had I actually asked him to be rough with me? What the hell was that about? Unwillingly, thoughts of Kellan's hands and lips flooded my brain. I swallowed hard and forcibly changed the directions of my thoughts.

The second thing I noticed was that my stomach still felt as if I might lose whatever was left sloshing around in there. My eyes were finally dry though, I thought in relief. Convincing Denny that I went to the parking lot feeling ill, and not wanting to lose my dinner in front of a crowd, had been easier than I ever thought it could be.

He hadn't hesitated, never even doubted my story, just sweetly helped me into his car and took me straight home. I hadn't been able to keep from stealing a painful peek at the espresso stand as we drove by it. I couldn't help but wonder if Kellan was still in there, kneeling on the floor, waiting for the blood on his back to dry. I'd had to put a hand to my stomach then, and pushed down hard to stop it from rising. Denny had glanced at me, worried, and then quickly sped off. He had only asked briefly about Kellan. I told him I'd left him at the table and who knows where he had run off to. Surprisingly my voice had stayed even. Rough, but even. He had taken no notice of my tone. Either that, or he had brushed it off as not feeling well.

Once home, he had gently helped me change clothes and then lain me in bed. I hadn't been able to take his sweetness, the adoring way he had looked at me. I had wanted him to yell, to be cruel. I deserved that, and so much more. The tears had started anew then, so I rolled over on my side, away from him, and feigned sleep. He had lovingly kissed my shoulder before joining me in bed and I spent the next several hours crying softly into my pillow.

I had assumed upon first waking that Kellan had gone straight from the bar to wherever he was headed. Obviously he wouldn't ever want to see me again, or ever face Denny again. Not after what he, what we, had done. Our first time had been a drunken mistake while Denny and I had been on a break, albeit a short one. This time was different. This was a clear betrayal.

This brought me startlingly to my third observation. I could hear the sounds of Denny and Kellan talking, even laughing, downstairs. I sat bolt upright in bed and listened harder. No screaming or yelling. No anger of any kind. Was he seriously having a casual Sunday morning conversation with the best friend he had just stabbed in the back?

I stood quickly and ran to the bathroom. I looked like death. My eyes were worn and bloodshot, my hair a mess of tangles. I ran a brush through my thick locks, splashed cool water on my face, and sloppily brushed my teeth. Not great, but better, and I was pretending to have just been sick after all. I took a quick peek at my thigh and damn if there wasn't a bruise there. I bit my lip and my stomach churned again at the sight. Hastily adjusting my clothes, I decided to just leave my pajamas on. It wasn't unusual for me to lounge about in my sleep pants anyway, and really, I was just too morbidly curious to wait any longer.

I flew down the stairs and then nearly fell as I suddenly stopped myself at the last step. With a purposely deep inhale, I struggled to slow my too fast lungs and surging heartbeat. Maybe Kellan was here because last night was just some horrible dream that never actually happened? If my body weren't bruised and delightfully sore, and if that realization didn't turn my stomach sour, I might have believed it.

Slowly, I made my way to the kitchen and crept around the corner. Yep, there had to be some way last night was just a dream. Either that or I was dreaming now.

Denny was leaning against the counter, calmly drinking a mug of tea. He smiled over at me when he noticed my quiet entrance. "Good morning, sleepy. Feeling any better?" His charming accent was luxuriously rich this morning, but nothing inside me enjoyed it, for someone else was staring at me too.

Kellan was sitting casually at the kitchen table, one hand idly stroking his full cup of coffee, the other resting calmly in his lap. His eyes must have been in my direction since before I even entered the room, for they were instantly locked onto mine. They were a perfect tranquil blue this morning, calm and untroubled, but still oddly cold. One side of his mouth curled upwards in a slight smile that did nothing to warm his eyes.

Finally remembering that Denny had asked me a question, I quickly looked over at him and said, "Yes, much better." I sat in a chair opposite Kellan and his eyes followed me the entire way. What on earth was he thinking? Was he trying to be obvious? Did he want Denny to know? I sneaked a quick peek at Denny. He was still leaning against the counter, drinking his tea and watching the news playing on the TV in the living room. He had been awake for awhile it would seem; he was showered and dressed for the day, his worn jeans hugging him perfectly, the simple gray shirt he wore showing off every muscle. He really was quite beautiful, I thought sadly.

I sighed guiltily and looked away. Unfortunately, I had somehow forgotten that Kellan was still sitting across from me, staring, and I looked over at him. I couldn't pull away from his gaze this time. His eyes narrowed as they studied mine, his smile gone. He looked the same as last night, the exact same I realized with a small shock. He hadn't changed clothes. He still wore his white shirt, the long sleeves pushed up to just below the elbows. He still had on the same faded blue jeans. Even his tousled hair was styled in exactly the same way as when my fingers had been knotted in them. He looked like he had just gotten home. I wanted to scream at him, ask him why the hell he was still here! Why was he staring holes into me with Denny standing just a few feet away?

Kellan finally looked away from me, just a half-second before Denny turned to me. I hadn't been quick enough and Denny caught me staring at Kellan, in what I had to believe looked like anger. Kellan's small smile came back just as I turned to look at Denny. Stupid irritating smile.

"Do you want me to make you anything to eat?" Denny asked, watching to see if any signs of sickness were still with me.

"No, that's alright. I'm really not feeling up to food yet." I did still feel nauseous, just not for the reasons he imagined.

"Coffee?" He pointed to the nearly full pot next to him.

The smell hit me then, and I thought I might lose the precious control on my stomach right there. I would never be able to think of coffee the same way again, much less drink it. "No," I whispered, my face surely pale.

Denny didn't notice my pallor. He set down his empty mug and straightening, walked over to me. "All right." He leaned down to kiss my forehead and I thought from the corner of my eye I saw Kellan twitch. "Let me know when you do get hungry. I'll make you whatever you want." He smiled and walked by me into the living room. Lying back causally on the couch, he flipped the station over to the sports channel.

I held my breath. I wanted to go join Denny on the couch, snuggle up in his arms and doze off while he watched TV. It sounded so warm and inviting, so comforting. But guilt kept me seated in my chair. I didn't deserve him, his warmth and caring. I deserved the cold hardness of the kitchen chair. I swallowed roughly and looked down at the table, glad that I had no more tears to spill.

Kellan cleared his throat softly. I startled, again in my wallowing forgetting that he was there. He looked over at Denny on the couch briefly then back to my eyes. I thought I saw a moment of pain pass his face, but it was gone before I could be sure. Not wanting to, but not being able to stop it, I thought about last night again. I thought about the last time I had seen him, his back torn and bloody from my fingers. My eyes flicked to his shirt. I couldn't see much from this angle, but his shirt was clean as far as I could tell...no blood stains anyway.

He smiled crookedly at me, his eyes warming for the first time, and I got the distinct impression he knew exactly what I was looking for. I blushed and tried to turn my head away from him, without turning it towards Denny's direction.

"A little late for modesty, don't you think?" he whispered to me, still smiling that wholly irritating and fabulous half-smile.

My eyes snapped back to his, shocked again. Were we seriously going to have this conversation here? Now? I tried to gauge whether his voice had been loud enough to carry into the next room and be heard over the TV. It didn't seem possible that it had.

"Have you lost your freaking mind?" I tried to match his volume, but irritation was winning over every other emotion in my head and the words seemed much too loud to me. "What are you doing here?" I managed much more quietly.

He cocked his head adorably to the side. "I live here...remember?"

I could have slapped him. I really wanted to, but the thought of inviting Denny's curiosity, and most likely his disapproval, stayed my hand. Instead, I locked my fingers together, halting the temptation. "No, you were leaving...remember? Big, brooding, dramatic exit...ringing any bells?" My irritation was apparently bringing sarcasm right along with it.

He laughed once quietly. "Things changed. I was very compellingly asked to stay." He smiled wickedly and bit his lip.

My breathing stopped and I closed my eyes briefly to block out his perfect face. "No. No, there are no reasons for you to be here." I opened my eyes to find him still smiling seductively at me. He must have snapped last night, that was the only explanation for the sudden change in his behavior. I risked a glance at Denny, but he was still blissfully watching sports.

When I looked back, Kellan stopped smiling and leaned toward me intently. "I was wrong before. Maybe you do want this. It's worth it to me to stay and find out." He was whispering, but I felt like he had just shouted the words across the room.

"No!" I sputtered, for a second having no idea what else to say. Composing myself, I added, "You were right. I want Denny. I choose Denny." I pleaded with him quietly, not even daring a glance at the living room, in case Denny had heard his name being mentioned.

He smiled slightly and reached out to touch my cheek. Instinctively, I wanted to pull away, to finally reach over and slap him, but I couldn't make my body listen. Why did my body never listen to me anymore? Stupid defiant body. His fingertips traced a line from my jaw to my lips. Instantly at his touch, I felt the fire of remembered passion shoot through me. My lips parted as his fingers glided over them and I half closed my eyes with the pleasure of it, but snapped them back open at the sound of his small chuckle.

"We'll see," he said casually, pulling his hand back to his lap and leaning back in his chair with a smug, triumphant look on his face. Stupid, stupid defiant body.

"And him?" I jerked my head in Denny's direction.

His smile dropped and his eyes lowered to the table. His voice came out pained, but steady. "I had a lot of time to think last night." He looked back up into my eyes. "I won't hurt him unnecessarily. I won't tell him, if you don't want me to."

"No, I don't want him to know," I whispered, glad once again that I had no tears left. "What do you mean...unnecessarily? What do you think we are now?"

His smile came back and he reached across the table to hold my hand. I flinched back, but he grabbed it securely and stroked my fingers. "Well...right now, we are friends." He eyed me up and down in a way that made me blush. "Good friends."