Filthy Foreign Exchange Book 2 Page 11

  “They merely see us having a private conversation. They can’t see how tight you’re squeezing your thighs together right now, or how wet you are for me, Love. Only I know that. And I’m right, aren’t I?”

  Yes. Very.

  I sit back suddenly, away from him, quickly shoving my earbuds back in. I’m aroused and reeling on every sexual level. I can’t even look at him.

  My phone, which is still in my lap, vibrates, and I let out a startled squeak.

  Kingston: You didn’t answer me.

  I know he’s staring straight at me—I can feel the heat of his amorous gaze on my cheek—but I keep my head down and my eyes on my phone.

  Me: And I’m not going to. Please stop. You’re embarrassing me, on a bus full of people!

  Kingston: Yes or no? Answer, and I’ll stop. Deny me, and I’ll pull you out of that seat and onto my lap to find out for myself.

  Me: Oh my God! What the hell has gotten into you?

  Kingston: I’m counting to three. Answer me.

  “One,” he growls aloud.

  My head whips toward the back of the bus to see who’s paying attention. Only a few stray eyes meet mine, and I duck down in my seat quickly when I hear, “Two.”

  Me: Yes! You crude, filthy bastard. Yes. Now stop.

  Kingston: Look at me.

  A side-eye is all he gets, and he laughs.

  Mine, he mouths with a wink.

  Longest bus ride ever.

  ~~~~~

  After we check in to our hotel, the day is still young, so Kingston proposes a vote. It’s decided that we’ll have an early dinner, then fit in a tour of the Van Gogh Museum before it closes. It’s also rumored to be less crowded right before closing hours, which works perfectly.

  Nat and I get to our room, and are taking turns in the bathroom to quickly freshen up when she says what may be the most mortifying sentence she’ll ever speak to me.

  “So, earlier on the bus, did you actually have an orgasm or just get really close?” She’s grinning from ear to ear, rubbing her hands together so fast she may just get a spark.

  And I may very well choke on my own tongue, my face so hot I feel blisters forming.

  “I…uh…wh...”

  “That answers that.” Her face falls in disappointment. “If you’d have gotten off, you wouldn’t be wound so tightly. Oh well.” She hitches a shoulder. “Don’t worry. Won’t be long.”

  “Wh-what? No, never mind. I’m really not comfortable with this, um…topic.”

  “Well, girlfriend, you better get comfortable, ’cause that sexy slice of heaven is a man on a mission—and that mission is you!”

  I give up with this crazy girl.

  “Can we go now?” I ask after shaking my head. “I’m ready to eat.”

  “Speaking of eating, I bet he—”

  “Natalie!” I yell, covering her mouth with my hand. “Enough, I’m serious! If I take my hand away, you promise—not another filthy word?”

  She nods, mumbling “Promise” against my palm.

  I uncover her mouth, but eye her the whole way out the door.

  Chapter 15

  Dinner was nice and normal…which just means Natalie’s mouth was full, and therefore censored. The Van Gogh Museum was amazing and, as expected, not at all crowded.

  In fact, nothing’s “crowded” in Amsterdam. I’ve seen less than a handful of cars; the popular modes of transportation are feet and bikes, and everyone moves at a leisurely pace.

  We’re all ambling down the street and taking in the views, when suddenly whoever’s at the front of our group takes a hard left turn into an area that’s…we’ll call it “liberal.” Not to speak for the masses, or stereotype the entire street we’ve just taken, but I can’t think of a better word to describe it. The atmosphere shifts abruptly, and a sense of fascinated albeit a bit frightened exhilaration shoots up my spine.

  I latch onto Nat’s hand with a death grip, just as Kingston backtracks though our group to grab my other one.

  “Don’t let go,” he rumbles adamantly.

  “Where are we?” I ask.

  “Oh, I know!” Nat talks fast and excitedly. “We’re coming up on the red-light district! And that coffee shop Patton’s walking into…I know what that means too-oo,” she sing-songs.

  I give Kingston a worried look, but he squashes my concerns with a warm, reassuring smile and squeeze of my hand. “I’ve got you, Love. No worries.”

  We follow everyone else into the “coffee shop,” and the instant I step inside, I recall certain tidbits about the internet research I’d done in preparation for this leg of the trip. The pungent haze looming over the store isn’t smog, or steam off the coffee, its literally a cloud of pot smoke.

  Several of my co-travelers have already found tables and are smoking their “orders,” while I stand frozen, trying to comprehend what’s actually happening around me.

  “Come on.” Nat tugs my hand. “Let’s do it! We’re old enough. It’s legal here, and you know what they say…when in Rome.”

  “We’re not in Rome,” I grumble.

  “Kingston, tell her it’s okay!” Nat pleads with him.

  He laughs. “Echo can make up her own mind. But I will say…”

  He lifts my chin so I’ll look at him.

  “She’s correct about it being legal, and it’s definitely a part of the cultural experience. If you choose to partake, I’ll be right here, sober and watching over you. And if you choose not to,” he finishes, hitching a shoulder, “the rest remains the same.”

  “Well, let’s at least get a table and pretend to fit in,” Nat gripes.

  I easily agree to that much. I must admit, I kind of want to watch, having never experienced anything like this before in my life and knowing I won’t again. But I never have, and never will, succumb to peer pressure.

  Which is why—however long later, when I’m absolutely stoned out of my mind—I have no one to blame but myself.

  Everything is funny, even in slow motion…especially Nat. There’s no fear or anxiety, and I can feel myself letting go of all my inhibitions and laughing freely. I’m having a great time.

  Until I’m not. The drug coursing through my system turns on me in a flash, triggered by Jackie throwing herself onto Kingston’s lap.

  An anger I’ve never felt in my life rips through me, completely taking over—no slow burn, just instant, full-blown incineration. I can’t control it, my mind…or my mouth.

  “‘You’re mine, I’m yours,’ my ass!” I think I scream past the unbearable dryness in my mouth. If he cared about me, he’d have set some boundaries with the slut by now. “You’re nothing but a goddamned liar, Kingston Hawthorne! I’m sick of it—all of it. I’m going home!”

  I stand up, grabbing my phone to call my brother, and run out the door. Tears cloud my vision, and my fingers won’t cooperate for some reason. Lord only knows whom, if anyone, I’m dialing right now.

  Then the phone’s gone—snatched from my hands just as fast as I’m being dragged toward a dark, scary-looking spot. Great, another Kingston kidnapping.

  “Echo, Love, it’s me Kingston. Quit screaming.”

  I wasn’t aware I was screaming, or screaming again, or...whatever.

  “Leave her alone! She doesn’t want to talk to you right now. I’ll take care of her, sexy mean man!”

  Nat wobbles on her feet, and is either speaking in garble or that’s just how I’m hearing it, but her rescue is still fabulous.

  “But I’m on his side about the phone, Smoky.” I assume Smoky is me? Fine, then she can be Kettle. “No high-dialing. Seb will not see the humor in this.”

  “You call him Seb?” My eyes bulge, I know it. “The last friend I thought I had called him that, too, then fucked him over. Then she fucked this one.”

  I poke Kingston hard in the chest. “You suck.”

  I start to cry—or, at least, to notice the tears rolling out that might’ve already been there. I’m not in my right mind, but I’m pr
esent enough to know the pain is crushing.

  “Natalie, would you mind giving Echo and me some privacy?”

  “Uh, yeah, I would.” And I officially love Kettle.

  “Please, I—” he tries again.

  “Hey Nat, will you come help me?” Patton appears around the corner. “Jackie won’t keep her hands off me, and she’s scared of you.”

  I laugh so hard I snort. Nat’s about as terrifying as a fairy twitching her wand to give “the gift of song.”

  “What the fuck is so funny?” She glares at me. “I can be scary!”

  “Bloody Christ, you ladies and cannabis do not agree.” Kingston sighs, doing that hand-in-the-hair thing of his. “Is there a single emotion we haven’t hit upon yet?”

  “Nat, for real, will you help me?” Patton asks again.

  Nat looks at me. “Echo? You want me to stay? You might not think so, but I’m seriously capable of going full ninja on his fine ass if needed.”

  I sway, smacking Kingston’s hand away when he tries to steady me. “I’m okay. Go. I’ve got a lot to say that no one else needs to hear.”

  Well, shit, here come the tears again.

  “I’m right inside if you need me,” Natalie tells me. She throws Kingston a scowl, using her pointer and middle fingers to gesture between her eyes and him as she backs away slowly.

  “I hate you,” I blurt out when they’re gone, and he looks at me.

  “No, you don’t,” he says in that low, scramble-Echo’s-brain voice, moving closer. “But you do have things to say—to ask—and with your inhibitions obviously obliterated, you’re finally ready to talk. So let it out. I’m more than ready to hear it.”

  I don’t know where to start, the messy conglomeration of hurt, anger, and confusion ricocheting around inside my cloudy head. So I open my mouth and wait to see what falls out.

  “Did you have a party, or whatever it was, and ruin my family’s property?” It’s asked in a sob, but I manage to look him dead in the eyes.

  “Do you think I did?”

  “Answering a question with a question is a sign of guilt.”

  “Or intelligence,” he argues.

  “Ugh,” I groan, frustrated. “Stop it. Did you, or not?”

  He lifts his brows, wordlessly posing to me the same counter-question as before.

  “Fine. No,” I answer for him. “I never believed it, not for a second. So why didn’t you just tell my dad it wasn’t you?”

  “I did, later. But that night, all that mattered was you. He needed to concentrate on your well-being, not my explanations.”

  “Wh—”

  I swallow my whisper, then try again, with some force.

  “Why were you with Savannah? All day, you ignored my calls and texts, then she answers. Why her, Kingston? I dealt with you fucking every girl in town, and still never quit being your friend. But Savannah? Why?” I’m yelling again, slamming a fist against his chest.

  He grabs my wrist and steps into me, pinning my back to the wall. “Are you feeling more yourself yet? Clear-headed now?”

  “What? Don’t change the subject—answer the question!”

  “Not until I’m confident you’re really hearing my words and letting them penetrate,” he explains. “I want to make bloody sure you understand everything we say, once and for all. Now, is your mind ready for this conversation?”

  “Yeah, more than ever.”

  And I believe it is. I’m finally able to release my worries and let him explain. No matter his reasoning, it’s time I hear the whole truth…from him.

  “When we discussed Coldplay, you chose ‘Fix You’ as their best song. What did I choose?”

  “‘Paradise,’” I answer without hesitation.

  “Brilliant. You’re fine, so talk we shall.” He never steps away; our gazes are still latched onto each other’s. “Echo, do you actually believe I shagged Savannah?”

  I shrug, and he frowns, placing my hand he has snared over my heart.

  “In here, do you honestly think I did?”

  “Then why was she with you, answering your phone and hanging up on me?”

  “No, you answer me first.”

  I look away, feeling ashamed. “I guess not…not really…but—”

  “You guess correctly.” He cups my cheek, forcing my attention. “I didn’t touch Savannah—in fact, let’s clear up another misconception you mentioned. Look in my eyes, Echo,” he demands in a heavy growl from deep within his chest.

  When I meet his sharp and purposeful stare again, he continues.

  “I did not shag anyone during my entire stay in Kelly Springs. No one.”

  “Oh, please,” I scoff. “Now who can’t lie worth a damn?”

  “Not. Once,” he repeats on a snarl. “And I’ve never lied to you, either—not then, and not now.

  “Echo, the only person I wanted was you,” he continues. “But you weren’t of age, and I was under your parents’ roof. They were good to me, so I had to respect that, and you. It damn near killed me not to touch you—not to sneak into your room at night and lay my hands on you—but I was trying to be a man worthy of you when the time was right. And that time is now. Tell me, Love…do you find me worthy?”

  “You haven’t answered all my questions. Why were you with Savannah? Why’d you ignore me if your phone obviously wasn’t dead?”

  I see Nat pop out around the corner. “Everything okay out here?”

  “Yes,” I sigh. “Thank you for checking.”

  “No prob. So, if you’re good, mind if I go with everyone to check out the district?” She waggles her eyebrows. “Word on the street is there’s naked ladies dancing in the windows!”

  “Why would you want to see that?” I ask, eclipsed by the cage that is Kingston’s body.

  “Because I can! So, cool or no?”

  “Will she be safe?” I ask Kingston.

  “Absolutely,” answers Patton, who’s now standing directly behind her.

  “Nat,” I say, airing my doubts, “are you—”

  “Echo, on my life, I’ll watch her,” Patton tries to assure me. “My buzz is gone, I swear.”

  “And you won’t get distracted by, say…Jackie…and forget about her?”

  “No, he won’t.” Kingston looks at him. “Because he knows what I’ll do to him should that happen. Do we understand each other, Patton?”

  “What the fuck ever, man. I said I’ve got her. I meant it.”

  “You’d better hope so,” Kingston seethes.

  “If you’re sure,” I address Nat, cutting off the testosterone fest. She smiles, nodding. “Okay, have fun.”

  “Do not fucking test me, Patton!” Kingston yells after them, before softly asking me, “Do you want to follow them?”

  “Yes!” I spit out quickly, earning Kingston’s laugh.

  “I figured as much. Come, then.” He laces his fingers through mine. “Surely we can walk and talk at the same time.”

  We catch up to a point where Natalie is in my sight but doesn’t know I’m tailing her. And when she, Patton, and about ten others go into one of the clubs that, according to Kingston, is “tame,” we take a seat on the bench right outside it.

  “That day,” he starts, continuing our discussion, “I went out shooting with a few blokes I knew from uni and left my phone in the truck. It did die, and was on the charger, so I didn’t think to check it. The next time I thought about it was when it rang—and Savannah grabbed it before I could. But more importantly, before we get into that rubbish, you know I made things right with Sammy, don’t you? I would never just disregard him.”

  “Yeah, I know. I wouldn’t be speaking to you if you hadn’t.”

  “Echo.” He shifts to face me. “That night…the whole thing was a setup. I got home, and Clay already had people in the pavilion. I walked over to see if you were amongst them, just as Savannah called for a ride home from some club. Clay asked if I’d go fetch her, since he’d been drinking earlier. So I did.

 
“I should’ve caught on—all the timing was conveniently perfect—but I didn’t,” he continues. “Next thing I knew, I was pulling into the driveway after dropping Savannah at her house, untouched, to find complete mayhem. No Clay, and your father flying in right behind me. They set me up.”

  I’m not the least bit surprised at what I’m hearing, and I do believe him. If I’m honest with myself, I never really hadn’t believed in him. And if he tells me he didn’t sleep with the whole town, I actually believe that too. Not that it was any of my business then, but it’s damn nice to hear.

  And almost all the weight of long months left to nothing but my own wondering is lifted.

  Except the last burning question. The most important one.

  “Why didn’t you call?”

  Chapter 16

  He doesn’t answer me right away, his lips drawn in a thoughtful line, gray eyes enigmatic and scrutinous.

  “Why didn’t you call, Love?” His tone is deceptively calm, and almost courteous.

  My jaw drops, eyes widening in defense. “Because, you’re the guy—”

  He silences me, covering my lips with his finger.

  “Yes. I’m the guy—the guy who waited for you to show some trust in me. I understood your father assuming the worst—hell, I would’ve been gob smacked if my own father hadn’t sprung to conclusions. But not you, Echo. I needed you to believe in me, before explanation…to reach out to me, even if it was to ask questions.”

  He sighs. “That way, I could’ve at least heard the faith in your voice. I left a final note. I sent flowers for your birthday, a card for your graduation. You hid—tried to convince yourself you had reason to forget me.”

  “I didn’t forget you.” My fragile voice shakes. “Not even close. And I always, deep down, had faith in you. I was just hurt, angry…stubborn.”

  “Surely not,” he laughs. “My Echo, stubborn?”

  “Stop.”

  I push at his chest and he seizes the opportunity, grabbing my hands instantly and pulling me into him. He rests his forehead against mine, skimming down the length of my nose with his own.

  “Never. I can be quite stubborn myself, and I’ve no plans of stopping, ever again. Everything’s sorted now, and you’re of age…and here with me. Stopping is the very last thing I intend to do.”