I’m not sure what I’d expected Nash’s mom to look like, but this woman did not fit the bill. She was young. Like, thirty. But that couldn’t be right, because Nash was eighteen. She wore her long, dark blond curls pulled into a simple ponytail, except for a few ringlets that had fallen to frame her face.
She could have been his older sister. His very hot older sister. Aunt Val would hate her….
When Mrs. Hudson’s eyes found mine, the world seemed to stop moving. Or rather, she stopped moving. Completely. As if she weren’t even breathing. I guess I wasn’t what she’d expected either. Nash’s exes were all beautiful, and I bet none of them had ever come over in a shapeless purple polo with the Ciné logo embroidered on one shoulder.
Regardless, the intense way she stared at me unnerved me, like she was trying to read my thoughts in my eyes, and I had an unbearable urge to close them in case that’s exactly what she was doing. Instead, I clutched the fast-food bag in both hands and returned her look with a frank one of my own, because she didn’t look angry. Only very curious.
After several uncomfortable seconds, she flashed a beautiful, un-motherly smile and nodded, as if she approved of whatever she’d seen in me. “Hi, Kaylee, I’m Harmony.” Nash’s mom wiped her right hand on the front of her jeans, leaving a faint, palm-shaped smudge of flour, then stepped forward and reached out for mine. I shook her hand hesitantly. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
She’d heard about me?
I glanced up to see Nash scowling at his mother, and had the distinct impression I’d just missed him shaking his head, or shooting her some other silent “shut up!” signal.
What was I missing?
“It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Hudson.” I suppressed the urge to wipe residual flour onto my work pants.
“Oh, it’s not Mrs.” Her smile softened, though her eyes never left mine. “It’s been just me and Nash for years now. What about you, Kaylee? Tell me about your parents.”
“I…um…”
Nash’s fingers folded around mine and I let him pull me close. “Kaylee needs to borrow my computer.” He gestured to the grease-stained bag I still held in one hand. “We’re gonna eat while we work.”
For a moment, Ms. Hudson looked like she might object. Then she shot Nash a stern smile. “Leave the door open.”
Nash mumbled a vague acknowledgment, then headed down the short, dim hallway with the drink tray. Still speechless, I followed him, the fast-food bag clutched to my chest.
Nash’s room was casual and comfortable, and I liked it instantly. His bed was unmade, and his desk was cluttered with CDs, Xbox games, and junk-food wrappers. The TV was on, but he hit the power button as he passed it, and whatever he’d been watching flashed into a silent black screen.
His desk chair was the only one in the room, and the open can of Coke on the desk said he was sitting there. For a moment, I froze like a rabbit in the crosshairs, staring at the bed, the only other place to sit, while my pulse whooshed in my ears.
Nash laughed and pushed the door to within an inch of closed, waving toward the bed with his empty hand. “It’s not gonna fold up into the wall.”
I was more worried about it swallowing me whole. And I couldn’t help wondering how many girls had sat there before me….
Finally embarrassed into action, I shoved aside an unopened chemistry book and sat on the edge of the bed, already digging in the paper bag. “Here.” I handed him a burger and a carton of fries.
He set the food on the desk and sank into the chair, jiggling the mouse until his monitor flared to life. “What are we looking for?” he asked, then folded a fry into his mouth.
I unwrapped my own burger, considering how best to phrase my answer. But there was no good way to put what I had to say. “Another girl died tonight. At the Ciné in Arlington. A guy I work with was there, and he said she just fell over dead, holding a bag of popcorn.”
Nash blinked at me, frozen in mid-chew. “You’re serious?” he asked after he swallowed, and I nodded. “You think it’s connected to that girl in the West End?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t predict this one, but it’s even weirder than what happened at Taboo. I want details.” So I could prove to myself that the two deaths weren’t as similar as they sounded.
“Okay, hang on…” He typed something into the address bar, and a search engine appeared on the monitor. “Arlington?”
“Yeah,” I said, around a bite of my burger.
Nash typed as he chewed, and links began filling the screen. He clicked on the first one. “Here it is.” It was a Dallas news channel’s Web site—the station that had aired the story about Heidi Anderson the day before.
I leaned closer to see over his shoulder, acutely aware of how good he smelled, and Nash read aloud. “Local authorities are perplexed by the death of the second metroplex teenager in as many days. Late this afternoon, fifteen-year-old Alyson Baker died in the lobby of the Ciné 9, in the Six Flags mall. Police have yet to determine her cause of death, but have ruled out drugs and alcohol as factors. According to one witness, Baker ‘just fell over dead’ at the concession counter. A memorial will be held tomorrow at Stephen F. Austin High School for Baker, who was a sophomore there, and a cheerleader.”
Sipping from my straw, I scanned the article for a moment after he finished reading. “That’s it?”
“There’s a picture.” He scrolled up to reveal a black-and-white yearbook photo of a pretty brunette with long, straight hair and dramatic features. “What do you think?”
I sighed and sank back onto the edge of the bed. Seeing the latest dead girl hadn’t answered any of my questions, but it had given me a name and a face, and made her death infinitely, miserably more real. “I don’t know. She doesn’t look much like Heidi Anderson. And she’s four years younger.”
“And she wasn’t drunk.”
“And I had no idea this one was going to happen.” No longer hungry, I wrapped the rest of my burger and dropped it into the bag. “The only thing they have in common is that they both died in public.”
“With no obvious cause of death.” Nash glanced at the bag in my lap. “Are you gonna finish that?”
I handed him the burger, but his words still echoed in my mind. He’d hit the nail on the head with that one—and driven it straight into my heart. Heidi and Alyson had both literally dropped dead with no warnings, no illness and no wounds of any kind. And I’d known Heidi’s death was coming.
If I’d been there when Alyson Baker was ordering her popcorn, would I have known she was about to die?
And if I had, would telling her have done any good?
I scooted back on the bed and drew my knees up to my chest as my guilt over Heidi’s death swelled within me like a sponge soaking up water. Had I let her die?
Nash dropped the empty burger wrapper into the bag and swiveled in the desk chair to face me. He frowned as he looked at my expression and leaned forward to gently push my legs down, so he could see my face. “There’s nothing you could have done.”
Were my thoughts that obvious? I couldn’t summon a smile, even with his dimples and late-night stubble only inches away. “You don’t know that.”
His mouth formed a hard line for a moment, like he might argue, but then he smiled slyly, and his gaze locked onto mine. “What I do know is that you need to relax. Think about something other than death.” His voice was a gentle rumble as he moved from the chair to sit next to me on the bed, and the mattress sank beneath his weight.
My breath hitched in anticipation, and my pulse raced. “What should I be thinking about?” My own voice came out lower, my words so soft I could barely hear them.
“Me,” he whispered back, leaning forward so that his lips brushed my ear as he spoke. His scent enveloped me, and his cheek felt scratchy against mine. “You should be thinking about me.” His fingers intertwined with mine in my lap, and he pulled away from my ear slowly, his lips skimming my cheek, deliciously soft in contrast to the sharp stubble. He dropped a trail of small kisses along my jaw, and my heart beat harder with every single one.