Rubbing my hands over my face, I try to sort through it in my head. After another deep breath, I recount the event after TMH to him, followed by seeing her tonight and wanting to confront her in the parking lot. I tell him about the knife and her friend saying she was not good for me. The only thing I keep from Kai is that Mags slipped and revealed her name: King.
Just thinking her name stirs something in my jeans.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
"Dude, I could swear I know her from somewhere." That thought has driven me nuts for the past week.
With his eyes closed, Kai had been listening to me the entire time, and I debate if he had paid attention until he says, "You ran into her about a year ago."
Excuse me, what?
"What the fuck are you talking about?" His bombshell makes me jerk into an upright position.
"I don't remember the exact date, but you ran into her—literally," he says, as if he was reminding me we had pancakes for breakfast.
I glower at him, biting my tongue. If I lash out, he'll clam up to spite me.
Kai smirks. "You don't remember, do you?"
My fingers curl into fists. I could beat it out of him.
Thankfully, it doesn't come to that. He pushes himself into an upright position and lets his elbows rest on his thighs. He tips the side of his head with his forefinger. "Photographic memory, remember?" Then he smirks. "Or not."
I'm going to pound his face.
He must see that I'm about to snap. "Chill out, bro. We were on our way to class. She came out of Professor Steward's criminology lecture and ran into you because she wasn't paying attention."
I rack my brain but come up blank. "How do you know what lecture hall it was?" Neither one of us nor any of our teammates takes any criminology courses.
"This chick I banged took that course, and I walked her there a few times."
I scowl at him.
"Not your chick. Jesus, you're wound tightly about her." He looks exasperated.
"I'm not—"
"You are." He cuts me off. "Anyway, she ran into you and then watched you the entire time until we turned the corner. It was like she saw a ghost. Fucking weird."
Fucking weird is an understatement at this point. Who the hell is King, and how does she know me?
I will find out.
CHAPTERSEVEN
I losttrack of how long I stood in the parking lot until my feet cooperated again. I made my way to my Jeep on shaky legs, my eyes not leaving the spot Wes had leaned on.
Unlocking my car was another challenge. I needed to start carrying a smaller bag. Though, then I wouldn't be able to have all my essentials with me in case…
Pacingthe living room for the hundredth time, I begin to second-guess my promise not to leave without Kiwi. He'd forgive me. I would have to grovel for a while, but we'd be okay in the end—we always are.
Echo follows me from her spot on the couch like she's watching a tennis match. It's past midnight. The Grizz doesn't close until two. This will be a long-ass night.
Suddenly, Echo sits up, perking her ears, and I stop mid-stride. What the—? I hear the key in the door and swivel on my heels, expecting Mags to walk in, but instead, I'm locking eyes with Kiwi. He spots me instantly and halts in the doorway. I stare at him with furrowed brows.
"Mags is closing up with Grizz. She sent me ahead to bring you your phone."
Oh.