Timepiece (Hourglass #2)

Timepiece (Hourglass #2) Page 43

“There are a hundred different scenarios.”

“Exactly, and it proves my point. The present. Right now.” Her eyes were more serious than I’d ever seen them. “The exact spot where the hourglass filters the sand from the future to the past. That’s where we have to live, Kaleb. Before all the sand runs out, or before somebody shakes it all up again.”

“I am so glad I have you in my life, for whatever reason.” My vision was suddenly blurry, so I paused and blinked a few times. “So, Lily. I have your blessing?”

“Treat her right, or I’ll kill you.” She held up a tiny, yet mighty, fist. “I can see how you feel about her. I know how she feels about you. And I guess I wonder … how many times have we had this conversation? What if last time you didn’t listen to me and you regretted it, or I told you not to go after her at all? Wouldn’t you want to do things differently now?”

I ruffled her hair. “Is this what goes on up there in that head of yours?”

“All the time.” The answer was solemn. Melancholy.

“So I should go clear all of this up and tell her how I really feel.”

Her answering smile was genuine. “Absolutely. But maybe clean up first. You have cookie crumbs on your chin.”

Chapter 39

The wind slammed the door to Murphy’s Law open so hard the glass in the windows rattled.

The shop was almost empty except for two girls behind the counter. One almost dropped a tray of mugs when she saw me. The other, who I recognized as Sophie, spoke as if her lips were numb. “Can I help you?”

“I need Lily.” It had taken me well past dinner to get the nerve up to talk to her. Now that I was here, I didn’t want to waste time.

“She’s roasting beans. In the back. Do you want me to—”

Instead of answering, I blew past her and pushed my way through the swinging door. The air smelled like heaven. Em would get a contact high.

“Lily?”

She stuck her head out from behind the edge of a huge metal roaster. One hand was wrapped around a steaming mug of mint tea, and the other held an open book clutched to her chest. As she stepped around the side of the roaster, her index finger slipped into the book to mark her place.

I wanted to tackle her.

“Kaleb.” A buzzer went off. She put the tea and book down before flipping a switch on the machine. “Why are you here?”

“I need to talk to you. Please.”

She sighed.

“I’m not going to go away until you talk to me.” I put my hands flat on the counter and met her eyes. “And I’ll follow you if you leave.”

Walking to the swinging door and opening it, she leaned out into the coffee shop proper. “Hey, Katie—you and Sophie shut down and then head home early. No sane person is going to come out for coffee once this rain moves in, anyway. Just put the sign in the window. I’ll lock up.”

The girls on the other side of the door said something I couldn’t hear, and Lily laughed. “He’s fine. Thanks for the concern.”

She came back in the kitchen with a strange expression on her face.

“What?” I asked.

“They were worried. I guess you made quite an impression on the way in.”

“I was kind of in a hurry. I really wanted to talk to you.”

“You’re also as big as a house, tattooed, and pierced. And wearing a black leather jacket.”

“Oh yeah.” I’m a bad ass. A bad ass who bakes when he’s depressed.

“How can I help you, Kaleb?” she asked, the venom finally leaking through the smile.

Two pairs of eyes peered through the circular window that led into the kitchen. “Can we go somewhere more private?”

She hesitated, and then pulled off her glasses, rubbing her face in frustration. “Fine. But make it fast. I don’t want my tea to get cold.”

I followed her out of the impeccable kitchen through a heavy-duty steel door into an alley. Even the trash was organized, the recycling sorted and stored in neat bins.

“What?” She slumped back against the brick wall of the building, putting one foot against the wall and twisting her apron strings around her fingers.

“I think you misunderstood what you saw yesterday.” The wind picked up, and leaves from the red maples that lined Main skittered down the alley.

“What, you mean you and Ainsley Paran?”

“I didn’t even know her last name.”

“That does not make it better.” Em had said the same thing. Lily dropped the apron strings and gestured with her hands. “And, anyway, she acted like she knew yours. And possibly the length of your inseam.”

“We met one night, last summer. Downtown. We danced. I might have kissed her once or twice. That’s it. And that was not … a good time in my life. And as far as the other girl, her name is Ava, and we mostly really dislike each other, but for some reason she rescued me—”

“I know Ava.”

I saw a flash of lightning and heard thunder in the distance. “You do?”

“Yeah. I met her when I met Dune.”

I wanted to ask exactly when she’d met Dune, and why they were so flirty with each other, but all of that fell strictly into the category of None of Kaleb’s Business, especially under the current circumstances. So instead, I just said, “Oh.”

“I still don’t know why you’re here.” She looked up at the sky, pushed off the wall with her foot, and headed toward the steel door. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

I stepped in front of her. “But I want to give you one.”

“Why?”

I put my hands on her shoulders to stop her from going inside. “Because you matter.”

“Kaleb …”

“That’s what I was coming to tell you yesterday when that girl hijacked me on the street corner. You matter. No one’s ever mattered before, but you do, and I wanted you to know. So now you know.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get anything out, the skies opened up. “I let the back door lock behind me and I forgot my keys.” Lily had to yell over the pounding rain. “We need to go around to the front.”

Lightning flashed again, followed by a huge clap of thunder. This time it was much closer.

“No, come here. The storm’s on top of us.” I led her to my dad’s truck, parallel parked at the front of the alley, and helped her in before hurrying around to the driver’s side.

Rain hammered against the roof, but at least we were under cover. Her teeth were chattering.

“Are you cold?” I asked.

“F-f-f-freezing.”

“Maybe you should get closer to me. Body heat. It’s important in a crisis situation such as this.” She cut her eyes at me and I cranked the engine. Flipping on the heater, I pointed all the vents at her. “But manufactured heat will work, too, I guess.”

She sat cross-legged in the middle of the bench seat with her back to the dash. The air stirred the tendrils of hair that had escaped from her bun.

“I think my dad has a blanket in here somewhere.” When I felt her eyes on me, I stopped shuffling and sat up. “Why are you staring at me like that?”