Playing it Kale (The McCain Saga Book 4) (5 page)

Just a few minutes later, he pulls into
the parking lot of some Christian Elementary school that’s not far off the
freeway.
 
A few lights dot the property,
showing off a playground and a basketball court right next to each other.

“We’re so going to get in trouble for
being here,” I say, actually a bit nervous as I climb out of the expensive car.

“Relax,” Kale says as I round the
car.
 
He, of course, has a smile on his
face.
 
“No one can see us with all those
trees.
 
It’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” I say, trying to not sound like
an uptight, nervous ninny.

Kale nods his head back toward the
playground and we take off.

There’s a basketball lying at the bottom
of one of the hoops, and Kale scoops it up and starts dribbling.

“You play any sports growing up?” he
asks as he shoots for the rim.
 
It loops
around it once before sinking down in.
 
It bounces in my direction, and I clumsily dart after it.

I shake my head.
 
“My parents thought anything outside of
school was a waste of time and energy.
 
I
always wanted to give dance a try, though.
 
Maybe if I had, I wouldn’t be so vastly uncoordinated.
 
What about you?”

I shoot, and miss, barely hitting the
backboard.
 
It hits weird, launching hard
in the opposite direction of the both of us.
 
Kale darts after it, catching it with little effort.
 
“Nah,” he says with a shake as he makes his
shot from far away.
 
“You could say I
kind of pissed my high school years away.”

“At least you had a normal
teenage-hood,” I say as I grab the ball when it rolls to my feet.
 
I dribble it a few times, getting a feel for
the ball.
 
“I bet you actually got to go
to prom at some point.”

Kale grabs the ball and looks up at
me.
 
“You never went to a prom?”

And the look on his face, like this is
the saddest thing he’s ever heard, it pulls a small smile from the corner of my
lips.
 
I shake my head.

“That’s not fair,” he says, his brows
furrowing and shaking his head.
 
“Every
girl should get the chance to go to prom.”

I’m not sure what he’s doing when he
sets the ball down at his feet and pulls his phone from his pocket.
 
He clicks away on it for a minute, and then
music starts playing from its speakers.
 
It’s a good song, one I love playing acoustically.
 
He smiles when he looks up at me.
 

He puts his phone down on the picnic
bench that is just off to the side of the court.
 
His eyes locked on me, he crosses back over.

“What are you doing?” I ask, nervous and
giddy at the same time.

“Whitney Ford,” he
says,
a lopsided grin on his face.
 
“Will you
go to prom with me?
 
At
some elementary school off the side of the freeway, in the dead of night, on
the basketball court?”

A laugh breaks from my chest.
 
“Are you serious right now?”

“I’m dead serious,” he laughs.
 
“A girl never getting the chance to go to
prom is just plain tragic.
 
So let’s
remedy that.”

He’s holding his hand out, and I just
look at it for a second.
 
My heart is
sprinting, excited and nervous and scared.
 
But this is also the most fun I’ve had in a long time.
 
So, I put my hand in his.
 

He pulls me out into the middle of the
basketball court, and gently, he wraps one arm around me, his hand on my lower
back.
 
My heart rate kicks up another
notch.
 
He shifts our hands together,
clasping mine tight.
 
And slowly, he
starts rocking us back and forth.

“How’s this?” he asks, his eyes intense
beneath those dark lashes of his.

“Pretty good,” I say, hoping my breath
doesn’t smell like cake.
 
“Except I’m
pretty sure there’s supposed to be balloons and a disco ball at prom.”

“Man, you’re hard to please,” he laughs,
his nostrils flaring just slightly again.
 
“I’m doing my best here, woman!”

“I kid, I kid!” I laugh loudly.
 
“This prom is great.
 
Better than all the others I’ve had.”

“Well, I’m glad,” he says, his demeanor
becoming slightly more serious.
 
“And all
those other guys were idiots for not asking you to prom.”

“Well, guys have never asked me to much
of anything else ever, either,” I admit, my eyes falling away from his.

“What?” Kale asks in disbelief.
 
“You’re like, the most gorgeous, fun girl
I’ve met in a seriously long time.
 
How
could you not be getting asked out constantly?”

I look up at him, trying to tell if he’s
serious.
 
Guys like Kale just don’t say
things like that to girls like me.
 
But
he is.
 
He’s dead serious.

I shrug.
 
“They usually think I’m weird.
 
I’ve…” I hesitate in my confession.
 
It’s embarrassing to admit, especially to someone like him.
 
But, well, tonight has made me brave in a way
I haven’t been in…ever.
 
“I’ve only ever
actually had one boyfriend.
 
And that
only lasted about two months.”

Kale actually shakes his head.
 
“That may be the most shocking thing I’ve
heard in years.”

I blush.
 
And have no idea what to say.

The music changes, the song upbeat and
energetic.
 
And I totally can’t dance to
this.

“Come on!” Kale says, an excited grin
growing on his face.
 
He lets go of my
waist and grabs my hand.
 
“Let’s play!”

Before I can do a thing, he’s hauling me
across the grass toward the playground.

It takes about fifteen seconds for a
game of tag to break out.
 
We dart down
the slides, over the climbing walls, and between swings chasing after each
other.
 
I squeal when he grabs me around
the waist, sending both of us to the ground.
 
He hoots and hollers as he pushes me higher and higher on the swing.
 
My hair flies in the wind.

I feel free.
 
I feel amazing.

I’m having the time of my life.

Playing on a children’s
playground.
 
In the middle of the night.
 
With Kale McCain.

When suddenly, we’re
engulfed in a blinding light.

“Excuse me,” a voice comes from behind
the light.
 
I squint against it, dragging
my toes through the bark chips to slow myself down.
 
Kale grabs my chains and instantly stops
me.
 
And crap.
 
That’s a cop.
 
“But this is private property, and you’re not supposed to be here.”

“Sorry,” Kale says.
 
There’s a hint of uncertainty there, but
there’s still a heavy dose of mischief, too.
 
“We were just…”

“Yeah, I know what you were just,” the
cop says with annoyance in his voice.
 
“If you two leave right now, I won’t write you up for trespassing.”

“Thank you, Sir,” I say.
 
And there’s complete fear in my own.

I climb off of the swing, straightening
my dress, and start for Kale’s car.
 
One
and a half seconds later, Kale jogs to my side.

“That was fun,” he says quietly, bumping
his shoulder into mine.

“Maybe not so much the cop part,” I say
as he opens my door for me.
 
I slide into
my seat and a few seconds later, so does Kale.

“The cop part just made the night more
adventurous.”
 
He starts the car and
backs out of our parking spot.
 
The cop
eyes us as we roll back out to the street.

I give a breathy chuckle.

“Come on,” Kale says as he reaches over
and pats my knee, sending a wave of
goosebumps
rippling out from that exact spot.
 
“You
can’t say you didn’t have fun tonight.”

I blush when I meet his eyes.
 
Because they’re dancing,
and alive, and excited.
 
And the
center of my chest warms.
 
Because yes, I did have the time of my life tonight.
 
Because I never expected someone like him to
have that much fun with someone
like
me.
 
“Okay, maybe.”

Kale just chuckles.
 
As we pull onto the floating bridge that will
lead into my city, he pats my leg again and leaves it there.
 
And I love it.

CHAPTER
THREE

I’m trying to figure out why there’s a
pig wandering the halls of Evergreen Micro.
 
A pig with green spots.
 
A pig that I’m pretty sure was talking a few
minutes ago with Henry’s voice, but everything’s a little misty and muddled.

But then there’s a knock down the
hall.
 
I ignore it, looking back at the
pig.
 
The knock sounds again.
 

“You going to get that?” the pig says.

And I jerk awake as another knock sounds
through my apartment.
 
I scramble from my
bed, my hair falling in my eyes in crazy, messy waves.
 
My hand closes around the doorknob, and still
not really awake, I jerk it open.

“Morning.”

The cheerful voice jerks my brain into
working order.

And there, standing in my doorway with a
coffee in one hand, and a cup of orange juice in the other, is Kale.

“Hey,” I say, extremely confused.
 
“What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you, too,” he
chuckles.
 

“Sorry, I just…” I struggle for
words.
 
And find none.

He shakes his head and hands me the
coffee.
 
“It’s fine.
 
I knew you weren’t expecting me at your
doorstep.”

“Thank you,” I say, my hand closing
around the hot cup.
 
“You uh, you want to
come in?”

“Thanks,” he says, stepping over the
threshold.

I only just now realize what I’m
wearing.
 
Super short,
silky shorts.
 
A
tank top.
 
No bra.
 
I’m also wearing no makeup.
 
I’m kind of a mess right now.
 
And it’s super embarrassing.
 
But the damage has been done.
 
Kale has seen me.
 

“Nice place,” Kale observes.
 
“It’s an awesome view.”
 
He indicates the window out the front
room.
 
It opens out over the lake, the
sun bright.

“Yeah, I can’t really complain.”
 
I stand there awkwardly in the middle of the
living room.
 
I’m debating excusing
myself to go change and get ready for the day, but that would be rude to leave
him here by himself considering he just got here.

“Relax, Whit,” he says with a small
smile.
 
“I’m not judging you for
sleeping.
 
You look fine.”

Just like he can read
my mind.

But he just called me Whit.
 
Like we’re close.
 
Like we’re friends.
 

So instead of overthinking that, I
chuckle and sink onto the couch on the opposite end from him.

“How are you up so early?” I ask, my
eyes searching for the clock.
 
It’s
barely eight.
 
“We were up until, like,
two last
night
.
 
You couldn’t have gotten home until close to three.”

Kale shrugs, taking a sip of his OJ.
 
“I couldn’t really sleep last night.
 
Finally I gave up.
 
Went to the gym, showered.
 
And here I am.”

His eyes lock on mine.
 
There’s something deeper there than I think
there should be.
 
“Why?”

He takes a moment to answer.
 
Just looks at me.
 
Serious.
 
“Because I had more fun
last night with you in just a few hours than I’ve had in the past few years.
 
I was kind of hoping you’d be down for a
repeat.”

Now it’s my turn to take a while to find
an answer.
 
I don’t even notice the silly
grin that has started spreading on my face.
 
“Yeah,” I finally say.
 
“I’d like
that.”

And Kale’s face breaks out into a
smile.
 
His eyes dance.
 
And his energy is contagious.
 
“Heck yes,” he says.
 
“I’ve got plans, so prepare
yourself
for a day of awesome.”

“Oh boy, I’m a little scared,” I
chuckle.

“No need,” he says.
 
He crosses to the kitchen and tosses his empty
cup in the trash.
 
“Now, I need to use
your facilities, and then you can get ready to get rolling.”

I smile at his enthusiasm.
 
“Bathroom’s just down the hall.”

I take another sip as Kale sets off for
the restroom.
 
And glance over my
shoulder just as he heads in the wrong direction.

“Not that door!” I yell.
 
But not before Kale is all the way into my
bedroom.

“Holy shit,” Kale chuckles as I’m
scrambling to get to him.
 
What I plan to
do—shove him out of my room, scratch his eyes out to erase what he’s just
seen—I don’t know.
 
“Didn’t
know you were such a fan, Whit.”

“Holy crap, please leave,” I huff in
embarrassment as I pull on the back of his shirt, trying to get around him in
my doorway.
 
“This is beyond
humiliating.”

Because Kale’s eyes are locked on that
poster I have of him.
 
The
signed one.
 
Where
he’s half-naked.
 
Looking completely amazing.

“What?” he says through a laugh,
glancing from the poster, to me, and back again.
 
“Never!
 
I mean, I’m flattered.
 
This is a position of honor, and I’m thrilled
to be placed on the walls of your home.”

“Shut up!” I squeal in humiliation as I
place my hands on his chest—his glorious chest—and try to push him out of my
room.
 
“This is…
gah
!
 
Just kill me now.”

“I don’t know why this is such a
problem,” he keeps talking as he continues to try and suppress laughter.
 
“You obviously worship me, so this should be
the highlight of your life getting me here, in your home, wanting to spend the
entire day with you.”

“I hate you, Kale McCain,” I say, trying
not to laugh as well, as I finally manage to shove him out and slam the door in
his face.

“This changes nothing, Whitney Ford,” he
calls through my door.
 
“You can’t get
rid of me that easily!
 
I’ll be waiting
out here until you’re ready for the day of
Kaleventure
!”

And he does.

I take my time getting ready.
 
Half hoping that he’ll give
up and leave.
 
Half
hoping
that I’ll recover from my embarrassment.
 
Which I don’t.
 
I’m pretty sure I’m still bright red when I
walk out of my room twenty minutes later, dressed and ready for the day.

Kale doesn’t say anything.
 
He just holds the door open, holds out a hand
for me to grab, and winks at me.

I don’t say a whole lot as we climb into
his car and we head for downtown.
 
And I
don’t have to.
 
It seems that Kale is an
expert in filling awkward silence with talk about anything and everything.
 
I’m not even sure what he’s going off on, but
a response doesn’t seem to be required.

Normally, by the eighteen hour mark of
my past relationships, a guy is figuring out how ridiculous I am in a social
setting.
 
I’ve said too many awkward and
weird things to ever recover, and he’s wishing me a nice life, never to be
heard from again.

But here’s Kale, having been witness to
all my Whitney glory, and he’s planned out an entire day together.
 
He’s acting like he
likes
spending time with me.
 
Acting like maybe he’d like to spend
more
time with me.

We spend the morning walking through
Pikes Place Market.
 
Eventually, I loosen
up as we walk past the vendors.
 
As women come up to him asking for his autograph.
 
As they ask for pictures with him.
 
He takes it all in stride, like it’s no big
deal.
 
Then he always comes back to my
side.

And we talk.

About nothing.
 
About life.
 
About stuff.

And it’s easy.
 
And fun.
 
And crazy.
 
And awesome.

“You want to go up?” Kale asks as we
walk down the pier toward the Ferris wheel.

“You know, this thing has been here for
how many years now?
 
And I’ve never been
on it?” I say as I look up to the height of it.
 
“And I live
in
Seattle.”

“Let’s go then,” Kale says with a smile,
offering me his arm.

My heart flutters as I take it and we walk
over to the ticket booth.

A warm breeze brushes through as we get
into our gondola and start slowly working our way up as it fills.

“You know, I’ve been a lot of places
over the last few years,” Kale says as we both look out the windows.
 
“But there’s nowhere quite like Washington.”

I nod in agreement, even though I’ve
never traveled far.
 
But I know how lucky
I am to live in such a beautiful state.

“So, did you go to school at UW?” he
asks.
 
His eyes come back to me, and he
looks so genuinely interested, I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to it.

“Still do,” I say, thinking of the
semester starting in just a few weeks.
 
“I have one more semester until I finish my master’s degree.”

“Masters?” he says in shock.
 
“Holy…I knew you were smart, but a master’s
degree is kind of intimidating.”

I laugh, my eyes falling away from
his.
 
“My parents are both doctors,” I
say.
 
“Of the
scientific, PhD kind.
 
That was
just always the plan, for me to get one, too.”

“Sounds like you grew up with everything
laid out,” Kale says.
 
“Probably
not too much spontaneity in your life.”

I look at him again and shake my
head.
 
“Not really.
 
My parents are good people, but they’re the
most type-A people you’ll ever meet.”

“Hanging out with
someone like me must be stressful,” Kale chuckles.
 
But it sounds unsure, maybe even
uncomfortable.
 
I don’t get that.

“Not at all,” I say, actually reaching
out and touching his knee lightly.
 
“It’s
actually a really nice change of pace.
 
I
needed something to get me out of my rut.
 
I’ve kind of been all work-study-be-obedient for the last, well…too
long.”

“Well, I’m glad I could yank you out of
your rut,” he says with a smile.
 
He
places his hand over mine.
 
And doesn’t let go.

The day is amazing.
 
There’s really no other way to describe
it.
 
We just bum around downtown Seattle
all day.
 
Talking, laughing.
 
Just having fun.

Kale drops me off at home that
night.
 

And then shows back up at my house
Sunday evening.

I open the door to find him there on my
doorstep.

“I’ve got an idea,” he says, mischief in
his eyes.

“I’m starting to like your ideas,” I say
as I lean in the doorway.

“You’re going to love this one,” he
says.
 
“Maybe.
 
Go get your guitar, and let’s go.”

Oh crap.
 
I spoke too soon.
 
“No.”

“No?” he says, laughing.
 
“Come on.
 
You don’t even know what I have planned.”

“I can imagine, maybe, and I have to
disagree.
 
I don’t think I’m going to
love it.”

“It’s going to be awesome, I promise,”
he says, placing his hands on my arms.
 
Which of course sends crazy
goosebumps
across my entire body.
 
“Just…go
get your guitar.”