Keeper of the Lost Secrets

CHAPTER TWENTY: Keefe Does Not Get a Girlfriend

I plonked on the sofa next to Keefe, sinking into the pink cushion like melting butter. Keefe stretched his legs apart and put his hands on my shoulder, continuing his conversation. He blabbered on about his hair routine, Biana's and her friends absorbing every word and interjecting every few sentences with a few questions. I admit, even though I look undoubtedly fabulous, hair wasn't something I much cared about. So, to curb my boredom, I leaned my head on Keefe's shoulder. From my peripheral vision, I could tell his lips turned upward in a smile, but his tone didn't falter, and he continued his routine. My vision began to chop into pieces, as with my memory. I heard moments of the conversation before sleep hit me.

I awoke in my bed, and the first thing I noticed was the pillows all around me and the blanket that was now a heap on my back. The second thing I noticed was Keefe's earnest eyes staring at me from not even two centimetres.

He pulled away as I woke up, and I could see the almost invisible blush that covered his cheeks. He cleared his throat.

"Look who's finally awake!" He pointed finger guns at me and sat on the bed. I felt my left corner sag with the weight. "How was your nap?"

"Pretty good after spending almost three hours making sweets you devoured in three minutes." I said, hitting a pillow to his face. He gasped and ran to check his hair in the mirror.

"You did not just mess with the hair." He ran his hands through his hair in multiple directions. He turned and grinned at me.

"I so did." I laughed. I sat up and faced my ear to the door. I didn't hear chatter. "Where are Biana's friends?"

"A few rooms down, talking about something." He said, walking back to my bed and sitting down. "I honestly couldn't care less."

"Do you really have a crush on someone?" I said, masking the hurt. I felt a pang in my chest as the words left my lips.

"Yeah, that's right." Keefe said, his head now on the pillow and a hair's breadth away from mine.

"Who is it?" I asked, not looking at him. I was afraid I'd see a giddy, giggling Keefe, ready to ask someone out. I was afraid that his someone wasn't me.

"I can't say that." He laughed. It was higher than most people expected it, and came in spurts, rather than one deep, echoing one.

I rolled my eyes. "Keeping your crush from your best friend. The betrayal. But you don't have to tell me anything you don't want–"

"Okay, since you're obviously dead set on knowing." Keefe cut me off with a small giggle. I'd never heard him giggle about anyone. "What to tell . . . Oh, wait, of course. They're in the house."

I gasped and faced with incredible speed. "You're kidding, right? That narrows it down a lot."

He laughed again. "Of course it does. Who do you think it is?"

I scratched my chin as I mentally pulled up a list of Biana's friends. In truth, they were exactly the type of Keefe would date, but not the type he'd crush on. "Give me some physical clues, Keefe!"

"Hmm." His eyes rolled upward. He gazed at the smooth ceiling as if it would give him an answer. "They're shorter than me. They're the most clueless person. And this person definitely doesn't like me. Not like that, anyway."

"Somebody not liking you? How can it be?" I snorted. He whacked me with a pillow and rolled his eyes. I kept my mouth shut after, plunging us in a tense silence.

I knew for a fact that Biana's friends all liked Keefe. In differing amounts, of course, but they all liked him regardless. I didn't know them well enough to know if there were any qualities that Keefe admired in them, and I know for a fact that he didn't either.

I gasped aloud, realising hitting me with as much shock as whimsy. "They?"

Keefe opened his mouth to speak, but the only sign that he was alive was his reddening cheeks. He has stopped in his tracks, frozen for a second before regained his composure.

"Caught me there." He flashed me a sheepish smile, but his expression morphed into a horrified one. I squeezed his shoulder.

"I'm not going to homophobic or transphobic." I assured him. I felt him relax under my touch. "Tell me more about this person."

"It's a guy." He blew out a shallow breath. "I know him pretty well."

My heart pounded like thunder. I remembered his earlier comment about how his crush was in the house. I was dense, but I wasn't that dense.

"And he's in this house?" I said, raising an eyebrow and doing a terrible job of suppressing a smile. "I'm not stupid, Keefe."

"Well, I don't know about that–" he said, but I cut him off.

"You like me?" My heard was just as loud has Keefe's voice, which was now much lower. He spoke slowly, as if he were picking every word like they could change everything.

"This is what I mean by stupid."

I whacked him with a pillow. "Just confirming."

I saw him gulp a breath of hair and nod, hesitation creeping into his every move. He grabbed my blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders. His head tilted downward, the sunlight bathing his face, and his light eyes clearer now, he looked so different than any girl I'd seen him with.

"Well, confirmed." He sounded as if he were struggling to breath him the air. Both our hearts beat in sync, so I couldn't tell who's was louder, but I could guess it was his.

"I like you too." I said, too fast and too shakily. Keefe sucked in a breath and stared at my teal eyes as if he were a doctor.

"You do?" Keefe said, tilting his head to the side, a few strands of his blond hair, falling on his cheeks.

"Who's stupid now?" I grinned. He looked down and chuckled.

"Just confirming."

Another silence fell upon us, but this one wasn't awkward. Now, so up close, I could see every movement he made, and I took note of it. His chest heaved with every breath, which was a soft sound that came in a rhythmic pattern. His hair followed his face but was never displaced, even when he shook his head a little too hard.

"Does that mean we're dating?" I felt as if someone had grabbed my throat and was squeezing it shut. My lungs tried to push air out and take it in, but my throat was paralysed, my voice now sounding like a deranged goose.

"If you want to be." Keefe's face returned to its tanned beauty, absent of the pale, almost blue nature of less than two minutes ago. The only sign he was nervous a blush that darkened his cheeks.

"I do." I said, unable to stop myself when I started giggling. "What about you?"

"Of course, I do!" Keefe said, laughing himself. His chest moved up and down, and his mouth was wide open. I could see him wiping tears from his face.

"Does that make me your boyfriend?" I asked. He smirked.

"I'm certainly not your girlfriend." He said. I groaned but I couldn't shake the grin off my face.

"Oh, and let's not tell any of my family. Especially Biana. I think one of her friends have a crush on you."

"I get it. I'd have a crush on me too." I rolled my eyes.

"But yeah, I'm not telling anyone I don't need to. Same thing with my parents. They'll totally kill the two of us."

He latched a tentative arm around my shoulder and rubbed my forearm. I grinned.

"Dying because of our love seems pretty romantic. Sounds like a first date." He said, kissing my cheek. "Or would you prefer Elven Nights tomorrow at three?"

My jaw dropped as I turned to face him. "Keefe Sencen, are you asking me out on a date?"

"I'm certainly not asking you to be my girlfriend."