Wondering how she was going to get him out of her life now that she’d already let him in.
Chapter Fifteen
The tall high school rose above them, extending into the overcast sky. What had started out as a sunny, bright day had quickly changed over to fog and drear. If he wasn’t mistaken, they were in for a storm. A big one. He wondered what Susan would think about that. She’d probably been hoping for clear skies—not clouds and downpours.
But hadn’t he heard someone say that rain was good luck for a wedding?
“What are the odds for bad weather tomorrow?” he asked, turning to Kayla. “You should know, right?”
She blinked at him. “Um, not really. I’m an actuary, not a weatherman.”
“Is there a difference?” He wrapped her hand in his, tugging her around the back of the building. “Both look at the facts and spew out statistics at the general population, right?”
“Well when you put it that way…” She grinned and looked up at the sky. Her graceful neck arched just right, and it made him pause. Since when had he been enthralled by a woman’s neck, for fuck’s sakes?
“I’m waiting.”
“I know. I’m thinking.” She shot him an annoyed look. “I’ll put it at a fifty percent chance of rain.”
“See? You even sound like a real weatherman.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s okay. Rain is good luck for a wedding, contrary to popular belief. So it’s a good thing.”
“I thought I heard that somewhere.” He led her toward the football field in the back. “So, tell me the truth. Were you on that field kicking your legs up and shaking your ass for all of the boys?”
She frowned at the field. “Not even close.”
“Really? With that ass,” he palmed her backside through the jeans, “and with that body,” he trailed his fingers over her hips. He loved the way they curved so gracefully. “I’d have put my money on you being a cheerleader. Maybe even chief cheerleader.”
“Well, you would have lost.” She gave him a small smile. “Sadly, I was pretty much the furthest thing from a cheerleader.”
“Hmm.” He tapped a finger on his chin. “The jock?”
“Puh-lease.”
“The math-a-lete?”
“Closer.” She headed toward the field, her gaze on the bleachers. “I did like numbers, but that’s not a shock, I’m sure.”
“All right. I give up. What were you?”
She sighed. “I was in the five percent of the adolescent population that stayed in orchestra throughout high school.”
He almost laughed, but didn’t. He thought back on their time together. She had a habit of tapping her fingers when she was nervous or irritated. And for some reason, he thought for sure she must play the violin. He had no idea why. It was just a hunch, so he went with it. “Violin?”
“Yep.” She smiled, but the smile looked sad. “I liked the music. And liked being in the orchestra. My part was always so clearly laid out. I knew exactly where I was seated and when to come in. It was comforting to a person like me.”
“I can see that about you. Do you still play?”
“Sometimes.” She shrugged. “I do it when I’m stressed out or thinking. But I miss being in an actual orchestra. It’s the one place where I felt like I belonged. You know what I mean?”
He studied her. He might not have been a nerd in high school, but he’d never felt as if he belonged anywhere back then. Had never found his home, so to speak. Being a military brat, he’d never settled down long enough to really find a close group of friends or colleagues. Not until the military, when he forged some strong relationships with the guys around him. So he got what she meant way too well. He liked being needed. Liked helping others. But besides that…what did he have now?
Nothing. That’s what.
He was tempted to make a joke and laugh off the moment. Make light of the fact that she’d shared something about herself she probably didn’t tell many people. It’s what he normally did. It was him. But he couldn’t do it. Instead he cupped her cheek and ran his thumb over her lower lip. “I do know what you mean about belonging. But honestly? I don’t think I’ve ever found that security.”
She blinked up at him. “You have your career. Your men.”