“I didn’t— Jesus,” he huffed, and sat back. “Forget it.”
I took a shaky breath in and held it for a few seconds before releasing it. I knew I was being rude. But it was like I couldn’t stop. “So why’d you tell me your name is Kash if it’s Logan? Are you a part of some motorcycle gang or something and you got stuck with the shitty nickname? Or do you just sing like Johnny Cash?” He definitely had a voice deep and smooth enough for that to be a possibility.
Logan made a noise between a scoff and a laugh and shook his head. “First off, they’re called motorcycle clubs, not gangs. And no, I’m not a part of one; I just love motorcycles. Second, you were wrong earlier, and you’re wrong now. Kash isn’t a nickname. It’s my middle name, and I’ve gone by Kash my entire life. It was my grandpa’s name.”
Oh sweet baby Jesus, someone please give me a time machine so I can restart today. “Um . . .” I tilted my head to the side and grimaced. “I’m just going to throw myself out of the car now.”
“Didn’t mean to make you think I’d lied to you or something. Mason was the one who introduced us to your roommate and I was on my way out to fill my bike up with gas, so I didn’t have time to talk to her. He always introduces me as Logan. Not really sure why.”
“I’m really sorry. I’ve—” I quickly broke off. There was no point in explaining I’d had a bad day. I’d been a bitch, and there was really no excuse for that. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“So,” I said a couple minutes later, “you just moved in? Are you from the Austin area, or . . .” I trailed off and glanced over to see him sucking on the damn lip ring again. Why was that so hot?
“Ah, no. We’re from . . . far East Texas.”
Vague. “Um. Okay. What brought you here?”
“Change of pace mostly. How about you? You from the area?”
“We’re from far West Texas.” I let that linger for a moment before turning and shooting him a grin. “Otherwise known as California.”
“Smart-ass.” He smiled wide and I forced my eyes back on the road. Oh Lord, that smile was perfect. “Let me guess. College?”
“Yep.”
“Isn’t it summer? Wouldn’t you want to go home during vacation?”
“Uh, yeah. It is . . . but Candice has a cheer camp for elementary-school girls she’s working at this summer. And where Candice goes, I go.”
He huffed softly and looked back at Candice and Mason. “Cheerleader. Yeah, I’d already kinda pegged her as one; she looks like it.”
At barely over five feet, with bleached blond hair, bright green eyes, and an ever-present smile and bounce in her step, yeah, she definitely looked like it.
“So you’re a cheerleader too?”
“Ha! Um, no. Definitely not.” Candice usually had to drag me to games and was always getting on me about my lack of enthusiasm for sports. Not my fault they reminded me of my dad. I would always sit on the couch with him while he watched whatever games were playing. He’d taught me everything there was to know about each sport, and watching them now, I could still hear him calling out fouls, flags, and strikes before the refs or umps did it themselves.
“So . . .” Kash drew out the word and turned his body so his back was against the door and he was facing me.
“So, what?”
“You’re not a cheerleader; what are you?”
For such an innocent question, it hit me deep. I felt like I was walking around lost half the time, and the other half I was just following Candice to be near someone I considered family so I wouldn’t break down. I’d only majored in athletic training because it was close to Candice’s major. I didn’t want to do anything with it when I graduated—to be honest, I had no idea what I wanted to do when I graduated. I didn’t know who I was, let alone who, and what, I wanted to be.
“I’m just Rachel,” I finally answered, and flickered a glance toward Kash to see his brow furrow as he studied me.
We got to the restaurant without my having a minor freak-out or impulsively slamming on the brakes again. But hell if I didn’t start drifting into the lanes next to us a few times because I kept sneaking glances at Kash. And by the way the corners of his mouth kept tilting up like he was fighting off a grin, I knew he was aware of why I was currently not helping women’s driving statistics.
Candice and I ordered margaritas while the guys ordered beers, and I downed my margarita so fast, the guys were looking at me like I was a crazy alcoholic, and Candice just looked embarrassed. I really didn’t even care anymore what they all thought. I’d had a bad day and instead of its getting better, I’d continued to make it worse. Looking at the large glass, which only had ice left in it, I frowned and set it back down on the table. Whenever I was the one driving, I only allowed myself to have one drink, and now I was regretting not enjoying that.
“Do you want another?” Kash asked with a lazy smile that I wasn’t sure if I hated or loved yet.
“No, I drove. One’s enough.”
“I’ll drive us back if you want.” We were in a small booth, and Candice had made it a point to sit with Mason, which put Kash and me in a position to get all up close and personal whether we wanted to or not. And now he was leaning in and the smell of his musky cologne was calling my name. “You look like you need more than one.”
His cologne had officially stopped talking to me. I sat back so I was smashed against the wall and raised an eyebrow at him. “Just like I look sick? You really are quite the charmer, aren’t you?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “And you really know how to turn shit around so I look like an a**hole, don’t you?”
I huffed a laugh. “Just saying . . . girls don’t like to hear they look bad. I’m almost waiting for you to tell me I look tired next.”
Kash’s eyes roamed my face. “Well, I wasn’t planning on mentioning it . . .”
“Wow.” My jaw dropped and I blinked rapidly. “I don’t need to do a thing. You make yourself look like an a**hole all on your own.”
He laughed loudly and leaned in closer than he’d been before. “I don’t know what happened in the car earlier, but you looked like you’d seen a ghost. And right now, you’re putting off an uncomfortable vibe that I’m sure half the restaurant can feel. You know you look beautiful, but that doesn’t hide the underlying stress that is rolling off you.” Before I could say anything, he continued. “So that makes me assume you’ve had a really bad day, which is why I offered to drive us all home so you could have another drink or two. If you honestly think what I’ve said means you look bad, then that’s your own problem you’ll have to deal with. And as long as you’re giving some attitude, be prepared to get some in return.”
Oh. Wow. If he hadn’t already bothered me so much, I’d have wanted to make him my new best friend. Or maybe that was the tequila already hitting my completely empty stomach. He cocked an eyebrow and I decided it was definitely the tequila talking.
When he sat back, I turned to look at the table and busied myself by eating chips and salsa, and the next time the waiter passed us, Kash ordered me another margarita. He and I didn’t say anything to each other or the flirting duo across from us until it was delivered to the table.
Pushing it toward me, he smiled softly and kept his eyes on the drink. “I’ll get us back to the complex. Just relax, and maybe try to enjoy this one, yeah?”
I laughed and his eyes flashed down to mine. Taking the drink, I took a sip and relaxed into the back of the booth. I didn’t understand this guy sitting next to me, and although I wanted to hate him, I found myself smiling as I thought about his no-bullshit attitude. I’d had a bad day and taken it out on a stranger—a gorgeous stranger, no less—and while I still felt embarrassed about the first and second impressions I was leaving, I couldn’t help but be intrigued by him.
But then thoughts of Blake crept back into my mind and I pushed down any feelings that may have started making themselves known about Kash as I scooted closer to the wall of the booth. Getting caught up in a guy was the last thing I needed right now.
4
Kash
“WHAT THE HELL are you thinking?”
“Uh . . . that she’s hot and I need to get laid?” Mason looked at me like I was missing something completely obvious.
“You really think it’s smart to get involved with someone while we’re in the middle of an assignment?”
He sighed heavily and dropped to the floor, leaning up against one of the walls. “You can’t tell me this assignment isn’t completely different from anything we’ve done. The only reason we can’t tell our families where we are is because of the hit. But other than that, what we’re doing—it’s like we’re detectives.”
“Yeah, and we’re still undercover.”
“Whatever, Kash, you think detectives don’t have relationships? Don’t have families?”
I groaned and raked a hand through my hair. He wasn’t getting it. “Of course they have relationships and families. They’re allowed to have lives. This”—I motioned to our empty apartment—“isn’t our life. We aren’t here to start new lives, Mason. We’re here to find a serial killer and stay hidden. All the rest of this is just for show. The minute we forget that is the minute James Camden slips through our fingers and another girl ends up dead. Do you want that on you?”
“What the fuck, Kash? Of course I don’t! Jesus, it’s not like I want to marry her. And from what she was saying last night, Candice isn’t the type of girl to be tied to one guy at a time. I don’t have to worry about her being clingy or wanting a relationship. So back off and instead of putting this shit on me, maybe worry about the fact that you couldn’t take your eyes off Rachel all night.”
My gaze quickly darted to the window that gave me a perfect view of the girls’ apartment. “She’s hot, sue me. But I’m not thinking about letting her get in the way of what we’re here for.”
“Perfect.” He stood up and stretched before heading to the front door. “I’m not going to let Candice get in the way either. But since we don’t check in ’til Monday, you can be damn sure I’m using this weekend to my advantage. See ya.”
“Have you forgotten we have no furniture?”
“Ask Rachel to go with you to pick out some stuff. I’m sure she’d be happy to do it.” He wagged his eyebrows and I groaned.
Just as he turned the doorknob, I slapped my hand down on the door to keep it shut and spoke low. “What we do? The lives we live? There’s no room for family or relationships, Mason. How many voice mails has your mom already left sobbing?” Mason ground his jaw but stayed quiet. “We’ve only been gone two days and they’re already freaking out. Because even though we didn’t tell them, they know what’s going on, and they’re f**king terrified. You hate doing that to your parents and sister; would you really want to bring a girlfriend or wife into what we do? Leaving them without notice for months or years at a time while we live the way those drug dealers do. You really want that for someone else?”