The Complete Quake Series Boxset - Jacob Chance Page 0,5

cheek.

“Hey Kyle, what’s with the gloomy expression? You look even scarier than you usually do,” she jokes, winking at me.

My lips quirk upward in a small grin and I think about how she’s the only person in my life who can draw a smile out of me whenever she wants. I don’t give them out freely and most would probably refer to me as surly or anti-social. I wasn’t always this way. I used to be ‘that,’ guy. You know, the guy who’s the life of the party and doesn’t have a care in the world. I lived large and had no plans to change. While it was a somewhat selfish existence, I wasn’t hurting anyone. I’ve always been respectful of women, even if I didn’t want anything more than sex from them. I took advantage of what was freely offered, but what guy wouldn’t?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kenny,” I answer, wanting to shelter her from how difficult the past couple of days have been for me with the inescapable pain from my headaches.

“Hi Kyle.” There it is - the most annoying sound in the world. Liz’s nasally voice gives me chills and not in a good way. It’s like nails on a chalkboard.

“Liz.” If there was a way to ignore her without looking like a rude fucker I would, but my parents taught me the importance of good manners. I may be a moody asshole, but I’m always a polite asshole. “I’m going to go grab a drink. Are you guys all set?” I ask.

Setting off for the bar after they both nod, I’m grateful for the momentary escape from Liz. The path to the bar is jammed up with a wall of bodies and I try to relax as a wave of panic overwhelms me. This is another part of the “new” me. I never used to feel claustrophobic in a crowd, but now it’s all I can do to keep my feet firmly planted in place. I remind myself everything’s fine, my teeth grinding while I fight the urge to flee. The press of all these people is beginning to get to me and I know it’s going to be ugly if I don’t get out of here as soon as possible. Ducking my shoulder, I push through the crowd like I’m back in my football playing glory days. My eyes adjust to the bright light of the hallway as I head toward the employee exit. My complete focus is on reaching the door and escaping outside into the cool, fresh air. I don’t see the woman coming out of the bathroom until it’s too late and we’ve already crashed. I catch her, my arms around her back an apology on my tongue.

“I’m sorry.” I become speechless when I notice who I’m holding in my arms.

Janny Moore.

Time freezes when my eyes meet hers for the first time. My tongue is thick in my mouth, my breathing shallow, my heart pounding impossibly fast, as I realize the exact shade of blue her eyes are. The name for the color comes to me in an instant.

Cerulean blue.

When I was a kid I loved to draw and my favorite crayon out of the large Crayola box was cerulean blue. I used it so much it wore down, finally snapping into two pieces. In all my thirty-three years of living, I’ve never seen anything in existence that matched the color of that crayon, until now.

“I’m so sorry.” The sweet chimes of her voice pull me out of my introspection and into the here and now.

I realize my arms are still around her and I move my hands to her upper arms. “Are you okay?” I ask, my voice comes out more like a croak than the baritone it usually is.

She smiles at me and I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life. Her lips are a shiny, dark pink color, the bottom curve is much fuller than the top bow shaped one. I want to bite it and then suck it into my mouth. I’ve never had such a powerful need to kiss someone, but I know it’s too soon. If I kiss her now, my passion will scare her and send her running from me. If I kiss her now, I’ll never be able to fucking stop.

“I’m fine. I wasn’t paying attention when I left the ladies room. I’m really sorry.” Her voice has a melodic lilting quality to it and I never want this conversation