She sighed before our lips connected. A resigned sigh, like she understood I was closing the door on the conversation. Kissing me softly, she murmured, “You have me, Kellan. Heart and soul.”

I smiled, grateful for that fact, then I pushed her onto her back and moved over the top of her. Our kiss grew heated, and a few moments later, I pressed inside her again, showing her that the feeling was mutual—she had my heart and soul too. Hopefully she was kind to it, because whether she realized it or not, she could hurt me a thousand times worse than my parents ever had. And knowing that terrified me.

Chapter 5

GAMES

As the days stretched on, things between Kiera and me just got better and better. We alternated where we met up, swapping out her place for mine. My drawer in her dresser was full of anything I might need whenever I stayed at her apartment, and the drawer I’d emptied for her at my house was equally full of her things. I had to admit, I loved having a part of her in my room with me when she wasn’t there physically. It was comforting. Plus, her clothes smelled like her…it turned me on.

I was alone for the time being, working on lyrics in my kitchen. I was just about done with a new song for the guys, something Matt should be thrilled about. Ever since Kiera and I had started dating, my knack for spitting out songs had…slowed. Who knew that being absurdly happy could squelch the creative process? But thankfully, I’d finally come up with something for the guys, and shockingly enough, it wasn’t a sappy, all-is-right-with-the-world song. No, it was still about pain and regret. Thanks to the tortured history Kiera and I shared, I still had pockets of remorse to sing about.

Writing about that time always brought Kiera forefront to my mind. She was at her art class with Jenny and Kate. I’d seen some of Jenny’s pieces hung up at Evan’s place—the girl had crazy talent—but I’d never seen anything from Kiera. She never brought home any of her work, or if she did, it immediately went into the garbage can, like she was embarrassed or something. It left me curious and clueless about how she was doing in the class—how she was actually doing in the class. She was all too quick to tell me she had the talent of a two-year-old, but I didn’t buy that for a second. I had no doubt that her art wasn’t nearly as bad as she thought it was. Kiera was too hard on herself. And she was way too stressed out about school starting tomorrow.