think it’s yours.”
“Because every time I come over, I feel like I’m on a roller coaster with your emotions. You’re either angry or depressed or anxious or tired.” He rose to his feet and came to stand in front of her.
“Well, excuse me,” she drawled. “I was in a crash that almost killed me.”
“Which is all the more reason why you should be deliriously happy. You’re alive!”
Kristen stared at him in disbelief. He just didn’t get it. It was because she was alive that she was having problems. She had survived; eight others hadn’t. Not a day passed when she didn’t question why she had been given the chance to live. It was a terrible burden to carry, one that had her questioning almost everything in her life.
Keith grasped her by the shoulders. “What I want to know is what happened to the woman I fell in love with? The one who loved being with people? The one who always had a smile and chose to look at the glass as being half-full instead of half-empty?”
“I guess you’ll have to accept that she’s changed,” she said soberly.
“Well, it hasn’t been for the better.”
The look on his face sent a chill through Kristen. She didn’t want to cry, but she couldn’t keep the tears from misting in her eyes. “I’m trying to get my life back together, but I feel as if my whole world has been turned upside down. Last month there wasn’t a cloud on my horizon. Now...” Her words trailed off on a sob.
The sight of her tears made him pull her into his arms and hug her. “I know it’s been tough, but you have to get on with your life. You can’t wallow in self-pity.”
She pushed him away, swallowing back the tears. “Self-pity? Is that what you think this is?”
He groaned again. “I don’t know what it is. All I know is that you have to make some effort to move forward. I can’t take much more of this.”
“Is that some kind of ultimatum? Either I get happy or else?”
He left her question unanswered, only saying, “You’re tired. You’d better get some rest.” He started for the door, grabbing his jacket on the way. “I’ve got to go or I’ll be late for work.”
And Kristen added one more to the total number of days that had passed without his kissing her.
TYLER DIDN’T EXPECT that he’d ever see Kristen Kellar again. But it bothered him that he’d been so abrupt with her. He’d blamed her for something she hadn’t done, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he owed her an apology. When his mother showed him KC’s column one morning, he called Kristen to tell her he was coming over to see her.
According to the gossip columnist, there were problems in paradise. The engagement was all but a thing of the past and her job at the television station was looking pretty uncertain, as well. Rumor was that her injuries from the plane crash were more serious than the station had reported earlier.
None of these things should have been any concern of Tyler’s. Whatever happened to Kristen Kellar was none of his business. Or at least he didn’t want it to be. But he couldn’t forget the way she looked when he’d been at her apartment. So alone. So lost. So vulnerable.
She looked as if she needed someone to take care of her. He raked a hand through his hair as he drove. He had made a habit of staying away from women who were emotionally needy. Yet here he was driving over to check on one he hardly knew and bringing her flowers.
As he parked his car, he made a promise to himself. “You are going to go in there, see that she’s all right, apologize and leave. That’s it.”
All it took was one look at her and Tyler knew he couldn’t keep any such promise. When she opened the door, he saw that the cast was gone from her leg. Instead of wearing sweatpants cut off at the knee, she had on a pair of dark leggings and a long, baggy white sweater that hid her slender curves. Even without the cast, she looked more fragile than the last time.
She didn’t smile when she saw him. He wasn’t surprised. He’d given her no reason to do anything but scowl at him.
“Mr. Brant,” she said, standing with her hip propped against the door, her body language telling him he was not welcome.
“Tyler,” he corrected her. “These are for you.” He handed her the bouquet of flowers. “I should’ve sent them to the hospital.”
“It wasn’t necessary, but thank you.” She took the flowers from him.
“Can I come in?”
She looked as if she wanted to say no but finally stepped aside. Her hair was shiny and it bounced as she walked. She still combed it so that it fell over her left cheek. He could tell she’d been expecting him by the order in the apartment. Unlike the last time he’d visited, there were no dirty dishes in the living room.
“You’re probably wondering why I’m here,” he said as once more he took one of the chairs in the living room.
“When you called, you said you wanted to apologize.” This time, she chose to sit across from him on the sofa. “And as I told you on the phone, it’s not necessary. I know you were upset about the way the media have been prying into your life.”
“That doesn’t justify the way I behaved, but I want you to know I...” He hesitated as the truth hit him like a ton of bricks.
He was here not simply to apologize but because of the way she had looked at him. As if he could give her something no one else could give her. He’d responded to her in a purely masculine way.
“I want to set the record straight,” he finally concluded.
“Well, you can consider it straightened,” she said with an indifference he found annoying.
At that point in the conversation, he should have excused himself and headed for the door. The air had been cleared. There was no reason for him not to walk out of her life and not look back.
But something kept him sitting in that chair. Maybe it was the haunted look in her eyes. Or maybe it was because he could smell the faint aroma of her perfume. Or maybe it was because he simply liked looking at her. Whatever the reason, instead of getting up to leave, he said, “I see the cast is gone.”
“Gone, but not forgotten,” she remarked dryly.
“I broke my arm as a kid and I still remember what it was like. Heavy. Itchy.” He shook his head wistfully. “Your leg’s going to be okay, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “The doctor said it healed remarkably well.”
She looked everywhere but at him when she talked. Tyler wondered what was going through her mind and finally asked, “And what about the rest of you? Has that healed remarkably well, too?”
Her head jerked up. “It’s been a slow process, but I’m getting there.”
“I’m glad to hear that” The silence that followed quickly became awkward. Tyler ended it by saying, “I should probably go.”
Just as
