broke his gaze and looked at her, momentarily puzzled, as if he didn’t know who she was or where he was.
“It was a long time ago,” she said softly.
He flinched, and then shook off her arm. “I don’t need your pity,” he said quietly, his voice cold and hard-edged.
“It wasn’t pity,” she said, stung.
“What was it, then?” His voice sounded harsh.
She hesitated. “A wish, I guess.”
“A wish?”
“That it could somehow be undone. That we could have been the same people we were before it happened.”
For a moment he looked like he was going to say something, and that he bit it back with great effort.
“Wishes are for children,” he said grimly.
“And that’s the day childhood ended for you,” she noted softly.
“No, it isn’t. I wasn’t a child anymore.” He didn’t say neither was Kevin, but she heard it as clearly as if he had spoken it. “It was the day childhood ended for her. Not us. That little girl who drowned.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“No,” he said firmly, “It wasn’t.”
Which left the cold, hard truth about whose fault it had been. It had been an accident. A terrible tragedy.
But somehow he had always blamed Kevin, never forgiven him. David’s hard attitude had been part of what destroyed him.
That’s what Kayla needed to remember when she was leaning toward him, thinking illicit thoughts about his lips and admiring how posh his car was.
“It was an accident,” she said, “There was a full investigation. Ultimately, it was an accident. Her parents should have been watching more closely.”
His eyes narrowed on her. “How long did he tell you that before you started believing it?”
“Excuse me?”
His tone was furious. “Her parents weren’t trained lifeguards. How would they know that drowning isn’t the way it is in the movies? Would they know sometimes there is not a single sound? Not a scream? Not a splash? Not a hand waving frantically in the air?
“He knew that. He knew that, but you know what? He wasn’t watching.”
Kayla could feel the color draining from her face. “You’ve always blamed him,” she whispered. “Everything changed between the two of you after that. How could you do that? You were his best friend. He needed you.”
“He needed to do his job!”
“He was young. He was distracted. Anybody could be distracted for a second.”
“The end of our friendship doesn’t just fall on my shoulders,” David said quietly. “Kevin wouldn’t talk to me after the investigation. He was mad because I told the truth.”
“What truth?”
He drew in his breath sharply, seemed to consider.
“Tell me,” she said, even though she had the childish desire to put her hands over her ears to block what he was going to say next.
“He was flirting with a girl. Instead of doing his job.”
She knew David rarely swore, but he inserted an expletive between his and job that could have made a soldier blush.
“He was over there by the concession not even looking at the water.”
“He was already going out with me!” she said, her voice a squeak of outrage and desperation. “That’s a lie.”
“Is it?” he asked quietly. “I was coming on shift. I wasn’t even on duty. I looked out at the water and I knew something was wrong. I could feel it. There was an eeriness in the air. And then I saw that little girl. She had blond hair and she was facedown and her hair floating around her head in the water. I yelled at him as I went by and we both went out.”
“You’re lying,” she whispered again.
He looked at her sadly. “It was too late. By the time we got to her.”
“Why would you tell me something so hurtful?” she demanded, but her voice sounded weak in her own ears. “Why would you lie to me like that?”
His eyes were steady on her own.
“Have I ever lied to you, Kayla?” he asked quietly.
“Yes!” she said. “Yes, you have.”
And then she turned and practically ran from him before he could see the tears streaming down her face.
CHAPTER FOUR
DAVID’S HAND LANDED on her shoulder, and he spun her around.
“When?” he demanded. “When did I ever lie to you?”
“We kissed that one night on the beach,” Kayla said, carefully stripping her voice of any emotion.
His hand fell away from her shoulder, and he stuffed it in the pocket of his shorts and looked away from her.
“And then,” she said, her voice a hiss, “you would barely look at me after that. That, David Blaze, is the worst kind of lie of all!”
He drew in his breath, sharply, and looked like he had something to say. Instead, his expression closed.
That same cool, shutting-her-out expression that she remembered all too well from after their ill-fated kiss!
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. “I don’t want to talk about any of this.”
His tone was dismissive, his eyes that had been so expressive just a moment ago, were guarded. His features were closed and cold, his mouth a firm line that warned her away from the place he did not want to go. Which was their shared history.
And that was not a problem. Because Kayla didn’t want to go there, either.
“You brought it up,” she reminded him tightly.
He scraped a hand though his hair and sighed, a sound heavy with weariness. “I did. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”
* * *
“Thank you for your help,” Kayla said with stiff formality. “I can take it from here. I’ve taken enough of your time. You should go.”
David was aware Kayla was taking her cues from him. Slamming the door shut on their shared past.
David was aware he had managed to hurt her feelings, and make her very angry and
