“I guess so,” Natalie says. “To be honest, I’m so busy with school I’m not sure how much time we’re going to spend together. But it will be good to be able to see each other. Dad is… I don’t know.”
“What?” I urge, trying to make my voice as casual as I can, even if my desire to know more about Kaleb Keller is like an unstoppable force moving through me.
I want to know everything there is to know about him, to pick him apart piece by piece until I’m more familiar with him than myself.
Maybe then I could convince him to want me…
No, no, no.
I can’t let myself disappear down these impossible rabbit holes in my mind, devolving into the absolute impossibility of my thoughts.
It’s a childhood crush, nothing more.
“You know.” Natalie shrugs. “He’s always been a little distant. Don’t get me wrong. He’s an amazing father. He’s always supported me. But I think when Mom ran out on us, something sort of closed off in him if that makes sense?”
Another wave of guilt crashes into me, making me want to throw my arms around Natalie and scream I’m sorry into her ear. But of course, if I did that she’d ask me why I was sorry, and I’d have to explain about all the sizzling fantasies I’ve had about her father.
“I understand,” Mom says. “When Gregory died, it left a hole inside of me. It took a long time – a lot of healing – until I was able to move on.”
My thoughts cloud even further at the mention of my dad, who died of lung cancer when I was just seven years old.
If Dad was still alive and I knew Natalie was pining after him, how would I feel?
The selfish part of me wants to say I’d be able to forgive her. I wouldn’t hold it against her.
But I know that’s just my wishful thinking, my mind doing flips to convince me of what I wish was true instead of facing how things actually are.
“Yeah.”
Natalie glances out of the window for a moment. Our apartment sits at the top of the building, an open-plan loft with big tall windows that let in swathes of sunlight, with exposed rafters and a real artsy feel to it… which is fitting, since Mom is a writer and I’m an illustrator or a wannabe illustrator at the very least.
“I guess that’s true about Dad. There’s a hole inside of him. But I don’t think it was left by Mom. I think it’s always been there. It could have something to do with what happened when he was a kid.”
My chest tightens for a moment, emotion seizing me.
I’ve read the newspaper articles about how Kaleb’s parents were killed in a home invasion when he was only nine years old, how it led him to his desire to train in martial arts so he could defend himself… starting him on a road that would eventually lead him to become the heavyweight champion of the world.
“Look at us.” Mom laughs, dropping the knife and wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. “Turned this lovely evening into a rather depressing affair, haven’t I? Natalie, show Kelly what you’ve gotten her. That’ll cheer things up.”
“What?” I glance at my friend. “What’s she talking about, Nat?”
Natalie grins. “You don’t have to sound so worried. It’s a good thing.”
“Okay…”
“Remember how down in the dumps you were the other night?” Mom says.
Of course, I remember.
The three of us were in the car on the way home from a movie – while I’ve never been close to Kaleb, Natalie and Mom have always been friends – when we passed a certain billboard and I let out a sigh.
I tried to hold in my self-loathing thoughts, but I couldn’t, and before I knew it I’d gone on a massive rant about how I’d never feel as beautiful as those women on the billboard.
“Yes.” I nod. “How could I forget? I completely freaking embarrassed myself.”
“No, you didn’t.” Natalie reaches over and gives my hand a squeeze. “But I was in the city the day after and I passed this kiosk. They were selling photoshoots packages, all professional, all aboveboard, and classy. I remember how you said you wanted some nice photographs for your illustrator’s website, for the profile… so I signed you up.”
I gasp. “What? No way. I can’t do that. I’d melt in embarrassment.”
Natalie frowns for a moment, genuine concern glinting into her eyes. She’s always telling me she wishes I could be more confident. She’s always telling me I’m far prettier than I ever give myself credit for… which hardly makes any sense when I’ve never been looked twice at by anyone.
Not that I want to be looked at by anyone except for her dad.
God, this is a mess.
“It’s all booked now,” Natalie says, replacing her frown with a playful smile as she leans forward. “You wouldn’t want me to waste my money, would you?”