Page 93 of Bad Influence
“You’re like a child!” Killian says from the kitchen.
I do feel like a childlike wonder every time I step out into the city. One day it might get old and boring, and I’ll be a real New Yorker who grouches about too many tourists. That day is not today. Today, I’m experiencing it all for the first time. The best part is, it’s with Killian. Who’s probably going to hate every second of it and will still do it for me.
I don a cream-colored sundress printed with small red flowers. Back in the bathroom, I dry and style my hair, do my make-up, and finally step out like a new woman.
“Okay, I’m ready. How do I look?”
I turn in a circle, just like I did last night. Killian pauses mid sip of his coffee and looks me over from head to toe.
“You look good enough to eat,” he says.
“I will let you after we’re done,” I say.
Even from across the room, his eyes are incinerating. “Is that a promise?”
“It was a promise last night but you’re the one who took me to bed and put me to sleep.”
Killian sets down the coffee cup and walks over to me. He’s wearing dark grey, almost black pants and a long-sleeved Henley with the sleeves pushed up to reveal his corded forearms and tattoos.
“You were drunk last night, baby,” he says. “When I make you come, I need you to be sober enough to remember every moment.”
I twist my mouth to the side as something prickles in the back of my mind. It’s old insecurities poking their ugly heads up. What if I’m not enough? What if I’mboring?
“What’s wrong?” Killian asks.
“Nothing,” I reply quickly.
Killian looks at me flatly. “Caroline, I’ve known you for a long time. I know when something is wrong.”
Ugh, I don’t want to tell him about my insecurities. Who wants to hear those? Especially when they’re related to his brother.
“It’s nothing, I promise. I’m just hungry.” I point at my face. “This is my hungry face.”
Killian looks like he doesn’t believe me, and what’s more, like he’s disappointed that I’m choosing to lie rather than tell him the truth.
It’s cold on the ferry. We’re on the top deck and the wind is whipping my hair around. It’s a good thing I remembered to bring a light jacket, or I’d be a shivering mess. The sun beating down on us feels amazing and I tilt my face up to the sky to get the full effect.
The full view of the Manhattan skyline as seen from the water is really something. Killian promised to bring me back at night because apparently the Staten Island ferry runs all night long.
“How many relationships have you had?” I ask.
Killian looks at me curiously. “What brought this on?”
“You know my sordid dating history, so I want to know yours,” I explain.
“Can we call your dating history sordid? It was two people, and both were carbon copies of each other.”
I gasp in offense. “Don’t make me throw you into the water.”
Kilian’s eyes, as light as the water beneath us, roam over me. “I’ll take my chances against you.”
“Wow,” I say, reeling from the shots he’s taking against me. “You woke up and chose violence.”
He shrugs. “You’re the one who started it.”
“Is your dating history really that bad?” I ask.
People press in on either side of us, looking at the skyline, taking photos. Killian steps in front of me, bracing his hands on the railing behind me, effectively stopping anyone from coming too close. I feel a flutter of butterflies in my stomach at his proximity just like I always do.
