Keeper of The Lost Cities: Book 9: Showdown

Chapter 40 - Keefe's POV

I almost wonder why she's so close, and then her lips touch mine and suddenly everything is so, so still.

Suddenly, I am aware of everything - the ground beneath our feet, her soft, blonde hair blowing around our faces, her hands sliding to the back of my neck.

I pull her close and kiss her back.

We stay that way, for what seems like forever - and then painfully, I feel her tears on my cheeks.

I pull away slowly and wipe her tears away. "Why are you crying?"

"Because you are an idiot." she slaps at my chest half-heartedly. "And because - I ... I missed you more than-"

I kiss her again. "I missed you more."

She puts her forehead against mine, breaking the kiss. "Don't you see?"

"I see you, Foster. Only you."

"Don't whisper sweet nothings to me."

"You don't like them. Noted. What did you want me to see?"

"You're not a liability. Repeat after me. 'Keefe is important'."

"Keefe is not important."

My Foster laughs lightly. "Do I need to kiss you again?"

"Yes, please."

"Idiot." she pulls away from me and sits on the patio swing. I follow suit behind her. "You always say something dumb like 'I don't deserve her'-"

"'Cause I don't."

"What about me?" her anger is back, though dampened by previous events. "Do I deserve to be happy?"

"More than anything, Foster."

"And if you make me happy?"

"I won't." I look away from her.

"That's for me to decide." she forces my face to face hers. "And we need to work on these little habits of yours."

I tilt my head. "Which 'little habits'?"

Foster waves her hand dismissively at me. "You know, that thing, how you run away periodically every time you feel like a threat - which, you are not."

"That's not my habit!"

"Oh, yes, how could I forget condescending yourself because you have familial issues?"

I glare at her. "There's a reason behind everything."

"Ah, I forgot about that! We need to erase the phrase 'I did it for you' from your vocabulary."

"Cut down on the sarcasm," I warn, leaning back. "You almost sound me."

"I'm not being sarcastic," Foster leans back, too, and comes just a bit closer. "I wanted-" she fiddles with my gold journal, the one someone (read:RO) gave to her. "I think this belongs to you."

I do not make an attempt to take the journal back. "You don't want it?"

She gives me a funny look. "Why would I?"

"So you didn't look inside, either?"

"Again, why would I?"

"I don't know, curiosity?"

Foster runs her fingers over the cover. "I was tempted," she confesses. "And Fitz almost did."

"I'm praying that there's emphasis on 'almost'."

"There is," she laughs. "I stopped him on time."

"You were tempted to look through, and you were curious about it, too." I join her fingers on the notebook. "Then why didn't you?"

"You weren't dead."

I grin. "I see... you were waiting for me to die?"

She rolls her eyes at me. "You didn't let me finish! It didn't - I didn't want to read something you clearly kept secret. The fact that it was given to me - without your consent - doesn't change anything."

"That is..."

"Respectful?"

"Not the word I was looking for," I say. "But we'll go with it."

"Mhm."

We say nothing for a little bit, Foster tracing the spine of the journal, which reminds me of something. "I want to show you something."

"What?"

"I'll be right back."