The Year I Became Isabella Ande - Jessica Sorensen Page 0,34
catacombs,” I answer, sinking down on the stair beside him. “Which are all these tunnels that go under Paris.”
He nods, browsing through a couple more photos then stops again. “Who’s this guy feeding you a cupcake?”
“That’s Nyle. He lives in London, and he’s friends with this guy, Peter, who my cousin knew from here.”
It was right after I kissed him. We’d gotten off the London Eye and stopped at a bakery. The photo was to be silly, but it still makes me smile as I look at it.
Kai doesn’t say anything else as he finishes looking through the photos. Then he hands me back my phone, rests back on his elbows, and stretches out his long legs. “Okay, so I didn’t want to ask, because I thought it’d be rude. But I can’t stop thinking about it, so I’m going to ask; otherwise, I’m going to either lose my mind or my head’s going to explode. But before I ask, I just want you to know that I’m not trying to be rude. I’m just curious,” he says then stops talking. Just like that. After that long-ass speech.
“Dude, are you going to ask, or did you just say all that to drive me crazy?” I ask, stuffing my phone into my pocket.
His eyes sparkle mischievously. “I was just trying to show you how I was feeling. Do you feel like you’re losing your mind yet from not having the answer?”
I pinch his side. I don’t even know why I do it. Okay, maybe that’s a lie. I’ve seen Indigo use the move on a couple of guys she was flirting with.
Holy shit! I’m flirting with Kai.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Wow, you’re violent.” Kai chuckles, rubbing his side where I pinched him.
“Sorry, I’m just impatient.” I clasp my hands in front of me. “Would you please, please ask your question before I either lose my mind or my head explodes?”
“Fine, I’ll tell you.” He mockingly rolls his eyes. “Geez, Isa, there’s no need to get overdramatic.” He flashes me a playful grin when I glare at him, pretending to be more annoyed than I am. “So, what’s up with the new look?”
“That’s your question. Really?” I frown disappointedly. “I have to say, after all that build up, I thought you’d ask me something way more intense and awkward.”
His brow cocks. “Like what? If you’re a virgin or something?”
My cheeks flush, and I hate that he can see it. “No, that’s not what I was thinking at all.”
He grazes his finger across my cheek. “I forgot how cute you are when you blush.”
The movement is so quick I barely register it, but my heart accelerates, my pulse pounding against my wrist, my neck . . . everywhere.
My body is a damn betrayer, though, and my mind is yelling at me to be pissed off at him. He’s talking about the past, back when we used to hang out, and he has no right to talk about those moments he decided to pretend never happened.
“You’ve never seen me blush before,” I lie, my voice a little shaky. I run my fingers over my hair, smoothing it into place. “And I decided to change my look. It’s not a big deal.”
“There has to be a reason behind it, especially since I know you hate dresses and makeup and all that girly shit.”
“I’ve never hated girly shit. I was just confused . . . back then.” Back when you stabbed me in the heart. “And I’m not that girly.” I lift my feet and tap my boots together. “See. Totally not girly shoes.”
He bites back a smile. “Still, you’re way different, and usually there’s a reason why someone does a complete flip of the switch.”
I arch my brows. “You mean, like you?”
He grimaces. “Yeah, I guess so.”
I consider his question, but the idea of telling him what I discovered about myself and my family while I was on the trip terrifies me. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
His lips quirk, and his eyes darken. “What exactly are you talking about, Isa? Because when you say shit like that to me, my mind automatically goes right to the gutter.” His gaze sweeps up and down my body, causing me to shiver. “But I’m more than happy to show you mine.”
I roll my eyes and shove him, but laugh. “Don’t be gross.”
“Hey, you’re the one who said it,” he says with a grin.