He shook his head, smiling to himself. But again, he made a move to climb up.
I pulled him back. “I can’t spot you. You’re too big. You can spot me, so let me do it.”
Stepping around him, I hopped up on the railing, and he darted out, grabbing my arm to steady me. I knew if I looked right, I’d see the drop below that was only one mistake away, so I didn’t look.
My legs shook, but I curled my toes, gripping the thick bannister. Dammit. I didn’t need the fucking scarf back, but I didn’t want to find out if he was able to scale his way up there. Not yet.
Squeezing his arm with one hand, I held out the other arm for balance and slowly rose up to stand. My belly flipped.
“I’ve got you,” Kai told me. I glanced down, seeing his dark eyes holding mine as he wrapped his other arm around my legs. My hands went weak, and for some reason, that didn’t make me feel better.
I reached up with both hands and swiped for the frayed fabric, Kai’s embrace tightening. Unfortunately, though, I was still at least six-to-eight inches shy of touching it.
Placing my hand on Kai’s shoulder to keep steady, I slowly arched up on my tip-toes to raise myself higher. I extended my other arms, stretching my muscles and joints centimeter by centimeter until finally, I went as far as I could go. I winced, trying to catch the small thread that dangled. Shifting my body just slightly, I continued trying, but it was no use.
I let out a sigh. “I can’t reach it.”
Falling back to my feet, I looked down at Kai.
And stopped breathing.
He was just staring at me. Right there, looking up, with his arms wrapped around my thighs and his face damn near between them. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
An amused smile hit his eyes, and my heart started pumping wildly. I didn’t want to know what the hell was running through his head right now.
“You okay?” he asked. I could tell the fucker was holding a smirk back.
I jumped down, forcing him away, and straightened my clothes, pulling down my T-shirt and jacket. “I’m fine.”
He would only use you. I had to remember that his goal was Damon. Revenge. And he knew Damon cared about me, so that made me valuable.
I ignored the beat in my chest and shook off the look in his eyes.
Don’t make the same mistakes. Don’t let him touch you. Don’t want him. You can’t have him.
I forgot that six years ago, but I wouldn’t this time.
The silence crawled my skin, and the sound of the light rain droned on around us.
“Why do you wear that stuff?” Kai’s voice was quiet and soft.
Stuff. My clothes?
I averted my gaze, my armor thickening. I’d taken more than enough crap about my appearance over the years.
What, you don’t like my second-hand combat boots with broken laces and scuffed toes? Do they offend you? Was there some rule that my jeans were supposed to be tight, so men I didn’t know could take pleasure at looking at my ass like I was a car on the street?
“I wear what I want,” I snipped. “I don’t dress to please anyone else.”
“On the contrary…” I felt him approach, and I looked down, seeing his shoes stop a foot away from me. “I’m wondering if you do dress like this to, indeed, please someone else.”
I met his gaze, the long, exhausting practice of showing no emotion coming easier than it did when I was a kid.
Okay. Point taken. Maybe I did start dressing like this to please Damon. I was never allotted money for clothes, and even now my pay was too miniscule to afford much. But I was happy with what my brother gave me and would’ve gladly worn anything if it meant I could stay with him.
And growing up, these clothes kept me safe. There were too many men around, and I looked younger when I was wearing this stuff. It hid my shape and helped keep me invisible.
“Those are men’s clothes,” he pointed out, his voice growing hard. “Used men’s clothes. Whose are they? Are they all Damon’s?”