Uncharted Read online

  She pouted in defeat and walked up to the register with him. On the way out, he held the door for her.

  After picking up the photos and a pack of cards, they headed to the hotel room. He showed her to their room and let her pick which bed she wanted. She chose the one farthest from the door and plopped her duffle bag on it.

  While Emmerick was putting the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door handle—he always did that to avoid the annoying knock from housekeeping in the morning—Kennedy started digging through her bag. She pulled out a pair of pajama pants covered in penguins and a ribbed tank top.

  She opened her mouth to say something but seemed to change her mind halfway through. Instead she muttered something that sounded like, “Nothing he hasn’t seen,” and then she dropped her pants.

  “Whoa, what are you doing?” He was in absolute shock. This was not the Kennedy he had been hanging around.

  “Getting comfortable.” She looked confused by his statement until she realized he meant her changing in front of him. “Oh. Well, it’s no part of me you haven’t seen before.” Then she turned her back to him and removed her shirt.

  “Damn, you’re either on a mission to torture me, or you’re just finally coming out of your shell.”

  She turned around as she was pulling the tank top over her stomach. “Let’s call it a little of both,” she told him as she pulled her hair back.

  “Why do you always put your hair up at night?” He didn’t understand it.

  “It’s annoying. Always gets in the way.”

  “Why don’t you cut it then? I like it down.”

  “I’ve actually been thinking about cutting it. I just haven’t gotten around to it. Haven’t really been in the same place long enough.”

  “Yeah, you have a point on that one.” He walked over to the bed. “Since we’re getting comfortable…” he said. He took off his shirt then his pants.

  “I thought you wore boxers?” She was trying to control her smile.

  “What?” He looked down. “Oh. Yeah, not always.” He saw her expression. “Not the best ego boost that you’re stifling a laugh.”

  She finally giggled out loud. “No, it’s nothing like that. I just…I mean, you only ever see models in boxer-briefs.” She looked him over, taking in the whole picture. He could easily be a model. “Boxer-briefs stuffed with socks,” she said with a smirk.

  “Hey! No socks here. Maybe you need proof?” he teased while playing with his waistband.

  “That’s quite all right. You’ve already shown me proof.” She blushed, remembering that moment.

  “Memorable for you, was it?” He wore his smug little grin. “Craving seconds?” He played with his waistband some more.

  “No, no seconds. You left your impression last time. I’m still in shock.” She glanced down again.

  “Ah, so you were impressed.”

  She moved toward his luggage. “No, I said impression. There’s a difference.” She threw a pair of his sweatpants at him. “Put these on. You’ll be less distracting.”

  He couldn’t control his smile as he obliged.

  Emmerick’s phone buzzed again. He ignored it. “So, now that the distraction’s gone, you want to watch a movie?”

  “I think I’d rather play cards.” The phone buzzed again. “You should probably answer that.”

  He looked at it and sent the caller to voicemail. “I’m busy at the moment. I’ll call her back.”

  “Your sister again?”

  “Claire, actually.” He thought for a moment. “Why do you assume it’s my sister and not a female friend?”

  “Well I was right, wasn’t I?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Whatever. Are we playing cards or—” The phone rang again. “Seriously. You should answer it. What if something happened?”

  “Then they would leave me a voicemail.” He grabbed the pack of cards. “What would you like to play?”

  “Slap—” His phone buzzed yet again. Kennedy grabbed it from the bedside table.

  “What are you…?” Emmerick started to ask her. Before he could finish, she answered the call.

  “Hello?” She sat on Emmerick’s bed. “Yeah, Emmerick’s right here, but he’s apparently been avoiding your calls.”

  Claire proceeded to explain how the family expected him home a few days ago. They were worried because they hadn’t heard from him in so long. His buddies were home already and they told the family that they split up with him when he went after a girl.

  “Yeah, that’s me,” she told Claire, “Kennedy. Is he always like that?”

  Claire explained how he was not usually like that. How he was actually a pretty shy guy. They didn’t believe his friends when they told the family why they had separated.

  “That’s hard to believe. He hasn’t come across that way at all.” After a pause, she laughed.

  Emmerick was getting uneasy. Anxious. What is Claire telling her about me? Why is she smiling like that? Laughing like that?

  Kennedy laid on her stomach as she continued to talk to Claire. Five minutes passed, then ten. “I feel like I know you; he’s told me so many stories. I particularly like the one about Goofy.”

  Emmerick rolled his eyes.

  “Really? He’s never shared that story with anyone outside the family? That’s weird.” A pause. “No. I don’t think I’d say that.”

  Emmerick laid on the bed next to Kennedy. It was his bed after all. She chose to lay on that one.

  “I don’t know why he hijacked my trip. Yes, hijacked. His word, not mine.”

  Emmerick wished he could hear the other side of the conversation.

  “Oh, yeah. Silly me. Of course you don’t know. I’m on a road trip. A solo road trip. Or it used to be. Emmerick has seen to it that I’m no longer alone.” She laughed in response to something Claire said.

  Claire continued to speak, and Kennedy looked as though she was contemplating what she was hearing. “I think I’ll have to leave the room to answer that…what? Oh, yeah, we’re in our hotel room. Yes, our. It’s cheaper that way.” Kennedy blushed quite red. “No, it’s not like that. Two beds. Um, he’s next to me.” She paused, listening. “This is going to sound bad…in bed. Well, no. Not fully clothed, but…I’m telling you, it’s not like that.” And with that Kennedy left the room.

  Emmerick was bewildered. Why would she possibly need to leave the room? It was his sister. What could they possibly talk about that she couldn’t say in front of Emmerick?

  Kennedy closed the door behind her and headed toward the lobby. She didn’t want Emmerick eavesdropping through the door.

  “So, what’s the deal with you and my brother?” Claire asked.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. One minute he acts as though he’s interested, the next he seems to want nothing to do with me.”

  “Maybe that’s his shyness coming out.” Claire suggested.

  “I’d hardly call him shy.”

  “What did he do that has you so convinced he isn’t shy?”

  “You mean other than purposefully dropping his towel in front of me?”

  “He did what!”

  “It’s a long story. He’ll have to tell you about that too. But I’d describe him more as cocky and arrogant than shy.”

  “So then, you don’t like him like that.” Claire said it as a statement but she was curious if it was an accurate one.

  “He’s great when he wants to be. Sweet, kind, and he’s so easy to talk to, it’s ridiculous.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “It’s complicated. Plus we live in different states.”

  Claire and Kennedy talked for hours. Claire told her stories about Emmerick’s past. They were all quite funny and incredibly sweet. He truly was a good guy. It was a shame it would never work out between them.

  Kennedy also really enjoyed talking to Claire. It must be something with the family, she thought. Kennedy had never come across people so easy to talk to.

 
Before hanging up, Claire asked Kennedy for her number. After making Claire promise not to share it with Emmerick, which Claire found odd, Kennedy obliged. She wanted to talk to her again, to know her better.

  When Kennedy got back to the room, Emmerick was laying on the bed listening to his iPod.

  She threw his phone at him. “Your sister wants you to call her eventually. She’s got questions for you.”

  “Such as?”

  “You’ll have to call her to find out.” Kennedy knew exactly the kind of questions Claire wanted to ask. She simply didn’t want him to have the peace of mind that knowing what was coming would bring.

  “So, what, are you two like best friends now?” He seemed a little irritated.

  “Claire’s great. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

  “I just don’t understand why you had to leave to talk to my sister.”

  “I couldn’t very well talk about you while you were in the room, now could I?”

  “Actually you could have.”

  Is he pouting?

  “You weren’t talking about me that whole time, were you?”

  “No, not the whole time. Though I got to say, I still don’t believe her about you being shy. You’re anything but shy.”

  “Let’s just say this trip is a bit like Halloween for me.” Kennedy looked confused, so he continued, “I can be anything I want.”

  “Huh. Fair enough. Now, how about some cards?” She picked up the deck and started shuffling it. “I was thinking a nice friendly game of—”

  He cut her off, “Strip poker?”

  “I was going to say Slap Jack.” She smiled. “Tell you what. If you win, we’ll play your game.”

  “Deal.” He put his iPod and phone on the bedside table then motioned for her to join him on the bed.

  She dealt the cards and they started their game. He was faster than she expected. She thought there would be no way he would win; she had mastered this game in college. She was undefeated.

  They were laughing and having a good time. It was refreshing, but he was winning and she was an awful poker player. She knew she had to sabotage this game and make him forget their deal. It was time to try to flirt.

  She leaned in more than she needed to when she slapped her hand down and when she was laughing, knowing full well that her tank top was down further than she preferred.

  When he beat her to the jack, she would slap his arm playfully, then his chest. Soon she started to tickle him slightly instead.

  He responded well to her flirtation attempts. Before long, he was tickling her back. Exactly what she was hoping for.

  During one particularly long tickle, she over-exaggerated her response, being sure to roll onto the cards, jumbling his cards into the stack topped with the jack.

  Before she knew it, his face was within inches of hers, his hands holding her waist.

  What’s he playing at? She pulled away then rolled out of the bed.

  “What’s wrong?” There was genuine concern in his face and he looked slightly hurt.

  Good. Serves him right. Let him see how it feels to be rejected. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired. It’s after midnight.” She disappeared into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth.

  Emmerick didn’t understand what had just happened. He had been sure she was flirting with him. It seemed like she had wanted him to kiss her—up until the moment she pulled away.

  He was cleaning up the cards when she reemerged from the bathroom. She crawled into her bed and pulled the covers up to her chest. She fidgeted a bit before dropping her pajama pants on the floor. She rolled on her side facing away from him.

  He sighed then turned the light off and got into his own bed. He wasn’t exactly tired, but there was nothing left to do.

  The Cactus

  Emmerick dreamt of Kennedy that night. He dreamt of what could have happened if she hadn’t been so impossible. If she hadn’t pulled away when she did. He was seconds away from kissing her. He had been curious about what that would be like since the moment he met her. In his dream, he got to see what it was like. He was able to experience many things he thought about in his waking hours.

  When Kennedy woke, Emmerick was still sleeping. He was making a fair amount of noise about it, too. She went to her duffle to get some clothes for the day.

  As she was dressing, she decided she would go get her hair cut. Enough was enough. Long hair was just too time consuming. Besides, the way Emmerick looked, he would be sleeping for quite a while longer.

  She pulled on a tee and a pair of jeans and ran her brush through her long, tangled hair one last time before she headed out.

  She took a cab to the nearest mall and stopped at the first haircut place she saw. The stylist seemed a little taken aback by the fact that Kennedy gave her free reign with the only requirement being that it be cut above her shoulders.

  The stylist tried to convince Kennedy that she should cut it a few inches longer than she wanted it to avoid the shock. Kennedy insisted that the stylist do it no longer than above her shoulders, so she started cutting.

  An hour and twelve inches later, Kennedy emerged from the salon a new person. Her hair barely rested on her shoulders, and it was silky and bouncy. She loved it. She couldn’t help but walk around with a smile.

  As she wandered the mall, she noticed people looking at her. They probably thought she was crazy because of the constant smile on her face. The guys whistled and cat called, and the girls gave evil glares as their boyfriends turned to get a better look as Kennedy passed by.

  She wandered through countless shops, searching for a gift for Emmerick as a thank you, though she wasn’t exactly sure why she wanted to thank him. Sure, he made her trip all the more interesting, but it was more than that. He helped her in a way she couldn’t quite explain. How do you find a gift for that?

  As she pondered what to get for him, she heard her stomach growl. She had planned on picking up food for both of them on her way back to the hotel, but she couldn’t wait. Instead, she found an eatery in the mall.

  Surprisingly, quite a few men approached her while she was eating, each one asking if he could join her. She declined the offers. There must be something in the water here. As she finished her meal, she realized something. Emmerick wouldn’t have turned away, even if she had declined his company.

  She probably should have found that annoying, but instead she found it oddly endearing. She knew just what to get him as a thanks. It wouldn’t make sense to anyone on the outside, and that was perfect.

  * * *

  Emmerick woke to an empty room and was thankful. He figured Kennedy must have gone to get them food. He needed the time alone and only hoped that she had left recently so he would have enough time.

  When he emerged from the steamy bathroom, he saw that she still wasn’t back. He was relieved. He knew he wasn’t as quiet as he tried to be.

  Once he fished fresh clothes out of his bag and got dressed, he checked the notepad by the TV to see if she had left any indication of where she’d gone. Of course she didn’t. Just then, he saw the pack of photos. He had completely forgotten about them the night before. He picked them up off the desk and sat back on the bed to go through them.

  The first few photos were of pets. Leave it to her to take pictures of her pets doing cute things. There were other miscellaneous pictures that he assumed had some sort of story behind them. Otherwise they wouldn’t make sense. Who takes a photo of a mailbox without a story behind it?

  He flipped to the next photo. It was Kennedy. Her face was up against a man’s. He had taken the picture. He had a devilish look on his face. Emmerick didn’t like it. Kennedy looked almost sad in the photo. Disappointed. Who is this in the photo with her? Why did she have that expression? They must have been pretty close if they’re taking a photo like that.

  Then he remembered. Did he not take a similar picture with her after they first met? He wondered if she had the same expression in that photo. He quickly flipp
ed through the rest of the photos. There were pictures of friends and sceneries.

  He switched over to the new roll, the “post-Emmerick” roll. Barely noticing the beauty of the scenery she had captured, he moved through them quickly until he found the picture of them.

  She had a completely different expression in this one. Mystified almost. Happy. Blushing. Sweet. He took one of the copies and put it in his bag. He definitely had to hold on to this one and was sure she would object.

  He was pretty pleased with himself. So, whoever that was, she prefers me over him. He continued looking through the photos. As he was on the last one—the one she had surprised him with—the door opened. Kennedy was back.

  He looked up from the photos in shock. “Your hair!”

  “Yeah, I told you I was thinking of cutting it.”

  “Yeah, but, wow! It’s really short!”

  She seemed to ponder that. “Well I like it, regardless of what you may think about it.”

  “No, no. I like it. I’m just…in awe.” He grinned the grin he always did before he threw her an uncalled for complement. “I just didn’t realize you could look any better.”

  “You’re so full of it.” She put her bags down. “Hope you don’t mind, but I ate without you. I was starving.”

  “You should have woke me up. I would have gone with you.”