The Right Kind of Wrong Read online

  Kyle pushes me against the office door and his lips find mine. His tongue barely touches my upper lip before darting in my mouth. I forget for a moment that I'm about to screw the guy I'm interning with in a corner office at the greatest newspaper in California. He knows all the ways to push me to the edge and there's no use even fighting it. And I don't want to.

  I bite his bottom lip and curl my arms around his neck. My fingers run through his hair. I've come to adore the hardened muscles of his back and I trace them. I concentrate on our breathing, rhythmic and cyclical. Fast, slow. Fast, slow. Kyle does such a damn good job of making me forget things.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I leave The Bee with a smile. Until Vince texts me. Meet me at library? Research time.

  A wave of anger courses through me. He can't just make demands. I should stand him up. I hate him, but losing $20,000 is more frightening than dealing with his obnoxious, smug smile. I text him back grudgingly. Fine.

  At the library, I walk through the stacks, my fingers tracing the spines of archaic books with pages so worn I imagine the stories folding in on themselves, disappearing into yellow-cream paper. I find an empty table in the corner of the second floor and set my backpack on top.

  I don't see Vince, so I bring out the identity fraud case files to see if I can find a new lead. Spreading my notes on the table, the wood is barely visible beneath my stacks of paper. I pick up a bank statement from one of the victims. The highlighted items on the paper tell me I'm missing something. If I could just figure out what connects these victims together. They're all middle class college students from good neighborhoods with no unusual purchasing habits. Easy targets. Why?

  "Why them? What did they do?" I say aloud, hoping to jiggle some sort of answer loose.

  "Who're you talking about?" Vince startles me. He's sitting at the other end of the table, looking at my highly confidential paperwork.

  "Nothing." I rush to scoop all the papers into a stack. I reach for the one in Vince's hand but he shifts it to his other one. It's further away and I reach across him to grab it but he leans back. I nearly fall into his lap.

  "Dammit, Vince. Give it to me." I grit my teeth, my hand rests on my hip.

  He smiles mischievously and hands me the paper. "Chill out. I was just playing around. Are you hiding something?"

  I narrow my eyes. "Like I'm going to tell you."

  "Damn, you need to get laid or something. You're so uptight."

  "I already—" I stop.

  His eyebrows rise and he puts a hand to his mouth. "Wow. I didn't know you had a boyfriend. Sucks for the dude having to put up with your control issues."

  I shove all the papers into my backpack and sit in the chair opposite of Vince. "First off, you're an asshole. Second, I don't have a boyfriend. But why should you be shocked that I’m involved . . . well, that I would . . ." I'm not sure what I'm trying to say.

  Vince's smile settles little wrinkles around his eyes. They make him look less intense. "Just didn't expect it, that's all."

  I shrug. "I'm not the person you think I am."

  "I could say the same about me," he retorts quietly.

  My eyes fall to my notebook. I fiddle with a pen. If I told Vince what I think is happening on campus, would he dismiss it like Roderick did?

  "What would you say if I told you I think there's an underground identity fraud ring on campus?"

  "I'd say crazier things have happened. Why? Is there an underground identity fraud ring on campus?" It's an ambiguous answer. I can't tell whether he thinks I'm serious.

  I shake my head. "Probably not. At least Roderick, my editor at The Bee doesn't think there is. I think Kyle is on my side, he just doesn't want to admit it."

  I want Vince to argue with me, to tell me that maybe Roderick and Kyle are wrong. Instead, he looks confused and scrunches up his eyebrows.

  "The Kyle David, reporter for The Sacramento Bee?" His hands flail in front of him.

  I sit a little straighter; a smile spreads across my face. I love that he seems impressed. "Yes, the Kyle David. I'm his intern."

  "Of course you are," Vince mumbles.

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "It makes sense now. You're totally sleeping with him."

  Holy shit. I haven't told anyone about Kyle. How did Vince find out? I scan the room. No one is close enough to overhear, but hearing Vince say those words makes me antsy.

  I lower my voice. "Shut the hell up. How did you know?"

  "So you are sleeping with him?"

  "What does it matter to you?"

  He looks disappointed. "That guy looks like a douchebag. Your face got all dreamy when you said his name. It wasn't hard to put two and two together. What are you doing sleeping with him, anyway?"

  "None of your business. And you don't even know him."

  He scoffs. "Whatever, it's not my life." His expression softens. "I'm just saying, you could do better than Kyle freaking David. Unless you're trying to sleep your way to the top. Then by all means, do your thing."

  I sneer at him, disgusted. "It just happened, okay?"

  "You don't have to justify it to me."

  I stare at him for a second then pull myself together. "Let's just get to work."

  "Okay." Vince sets his video camera on the table. I didn't notice it before now.

  "You never know when something big is going to happen," he says when he catches my gaze. "We’ll need a ton of footage to sift through for this project. No such thing as too much footage."

  "Where exactly are we getting this awesome footage?"

  "I don't know yet. But I'll figure it out."

  I laugh. "Just like the other project, right?"

  Half of him looks like he might rip his skin off and turn into the hulk. The other half just looks sad.

  "Maybe we should start with general World War II research. Timeframes, background, that kind of stuff," I suggest.

  Vince still has a crazed look on his face but he nods. "Fine."

  I stand up. "You do know how libraries work, right?"

  He flips me off but stands and heads toward the reference shelf.

  I scan titles, hoping something will jump out at me. I pull a few out but I'm already bored. How am I going to get an award-winning project out of a topic I'm already tired of?

  I walk back to the table after twenty minutes of aimless wandering. Vince is flipping through a book. "What did you find?"

  "Stuff."

  "Do you ever give straight answers?"

  "Do you ever stop nagging?"

  "No."

  He shakes his head but keeps reading. "Aren't you supposed to be researching something?"

  I sigh. "I can't think right now. I'm distracted."

  He smirks at me. "Distracted? I can leave if you want. I know it's kind of hard to concentrate, working with someone so attractive and all."

  I roll my eyes. "Oh, God." I curl the book under my arm. I need fresh air. "I'm gonna check out this book and work on it at home. Not feeling the library setting right now."

  I zip my backpack and walk away.

  "Wait." Vince stops me.

  "Yeah?"

  "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

  Tomorrow is my only day off this week and I have a feeling it's going to be wasted. "Why?"

  Vince hesitates. "Want to meet at Starbucks to compare notes and decide on our next steps?"

  "Not really. But I guess I don’t really have a choice, do I?"

  It's such a disappointment to think about spending my precious day off with Vince, but that's what I've come to expect from him—nothing but disappointment.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Starbucks is less crowded tonight than it was yesterday, but there's no Vince holding up the line either. I order an iced coffee and pick a booth in the back of the building. Vince comes around the corner a minute later, cradling his coffee in one hand, his camera in the other. He's wearing a shit-eating grin. How many girls actually fall for his ridiculous charm
when he wears a grin like that?

  "Hey." He sits down across from me.

  "Hey."

  "I was up until almost midnight reading these books and I decided there is too much information. We need to narrow down our focus."

  "What were you thinking?"

  "Well, you mentioned something about your grandpa yesterday."

  "So?"

  "Let's focus the project on him."

  Oh, no. No, no, no. "I don't think so."

  "Why not?"

  My stomach churns. "It's just not a good idea."

  "But he can be the face of the documentary."

  "Jesus. I said no, okay?"

  Vince's nostrils flare and he clasps his hand together tightly, like he's praying. Praying for God to give him strength not to hit me, probably. "Look, we're going to lose this competition. And it's going to be your fault. I'm trying here. But you're not doing a damn thing to help."

  It's not like I haven't thought about including my grandfather's story, but it's too soon. I'm not ready yet.

  "I'm sorry, but I—"

  "I don't want to hear it." He walks away me.

  I lay my head on the table. Dammit. This is going all wrong.

  Pull yourself together, Kara. You have to do this. You have to win this competition.

  I catch Vince as he's leaving. "Wait!"

  He turns around. "What?"

  "Okay, fine. You win."

  He eyes me suspiciously. "Are you sure? You're not going to go bat-shit crazy on me?"

  I toss him a dirty look. "No." Maybe.

  He comes back inside and plops on a couch. "So tell me about your grandfather."

  I sit next to him. "What do you want to know?" My grandfather's smile and gray hair springs to mind.

  "What did he do in the war?"

  I know the basics, but he didn't talk about it much. I know he was a hero. "My grandfather was a tank specialist. His tank blew up and he was the one person in his crew to survive."

  "That's pretty badass." Vince grins. "I can't believe you didn't bring that up earlier."

  I shrug. "It's not really my story."

  "But it's his legacy. People deserve to know."

  "I guess."

  "We should talk to your family."

  I laugh. "That's going to be kind of difficult. They live about a gazillion miles away."

  He looks surprised. "Really? I thought you lived here."

  "Nope. Iowa."

  Vince strokes his chin. "We should go there."

  It takes a minute to realize he's talking about us. Him. Me. Me and Him. In a car for a very long time. I don't think so. Plus, going back to Iowa is not on my list of things to do. I had reasons to leave. I have plenty of reasons not to go back. "Um, no."

  "What do you mean, no?"

  "No, we're not going to Iowa."

  "How do you propose we get this project done?"

  Dammit. He's right. How am I planning to get this project done without going back to Iowa? It doesn't matter because it's not going to happen. "I don't know, but I just can't up and leave. Don't you have a job or something?"

  Vince stares at me, his gaze holding mine steady. "I'm currently between jobs. But this isn't about me. What happened?"

  I laugh but it’s forced. "What do you mean?"

  "Most people would be excited to go home. Especially if home is halfway across the country."

  "I'm not most people." I look down at my hands. When I look up, Vince's expression hasn't changed. His eyes never waiver from mine.

  "I know you're not."

  I can't decide if it's the nicest or most hurtful thing he's said to me. "Look, I have my reasons, okay? Going back to Iowa is a really bad idea. Trust me."

  Vince shifts in his chair. "Kara, you don't have to tell me why you don't want to go back. Actually, I don't even care. But we have to go there. If we want to win this thing, we have to. Understand?"

  I plead with him. "Please, let's change the topic to something different. World War II is so overdone anyway."

  "We're going to Iowa. Case closed."

  I look him in the eyes, hoping he sees my determination. "No. We're. Not."

  His eyes bore into mine. "You agreed to use your grandfather as a topic. Now you don't want to. Honestly, you're giving me whiplash with your fucking nonsense."

  He's trying to bully me, but I'm not falling for it. "We'll have to find a way. Or change the topic. Case closed." I mock him.

  His jaw is set and his tone is deadly. "Fine. You tell Dr. Brandish how you screwed up this one. I'm done."

  He walks away again and I'm pissed. I let him get under my skin. We'll figure this out, one way or another. I have faith, even if he doesn't.

  I'm curled up on my couch reading when I hear a soft knock. I know who it is before I open the door, but when I see Kyle standing there in a plain grey t-shirt that hugs his built arms, my heart drops out of my chest. He pushes the door open wider and walks in.

  "What were you doing?"

  I shrug nonchalantly. "Nothing. Just hanging out."

  Kyle looks around my apartment even though he's been here several times. He sits on the couch, gestures for me to sit beside him. He cups my face in his hands. "God, you're so hot."

  I wish it sounded better coming from his lips. I also wish he'd say something other than "hot" or "sexy." The first few times were nice, but after the fifteenth time, it loses its appeal. He also hasn't been interested in much talking lately. He seems to go in for the kill before I get out two words.

  I close my eyes and breathe in his cologne. When I open them, I'm dizzy, intoxicated by the intensity of his stare. In one swift motion, he has me on my back. He moves his hands from my collarbone to the space between my breasts. His lips pick up where his hands stop and move down my body until I can't take it anymore.

  My breaths are hurried, my lips needy. I arch my back, soaking up the kisses until he shifts his weight on the couch. He pulls my book from beneath him.

  "Kerouac? Isn't he a bit old for your taste? You are such a nerd."

  "Oh, that's uh, for one of my classes."

  Kyle laughs and pulls me in close. "You don't have to lie, Kara," he whispers. "That's why I like you. You're smart. You read books that are older than my parents. You're also the sexiest intern I've ever had."

  Sexiest intern? Not the smartest? Or the most driven? The sexiest? I guess I'll take it. I let my tongue glide over his lips and kiss him deeply.

  The couch vibrates and I reach beneath me and pull out Kyle's phone. It's lit with a text from 'Kali.' See you later tonight, babe.

  "What’s this?"

  He grabs the phone. "It's rude to read other people's messages."

  "See you later tonight, babe? Really?"

  He lowers his gaze and his jaw locks in place. He rubs the back of his neck. "Listen, Kara, I thought we were on the same page here." He gestures between us, "I don't know what you assumed this was, but we're not... together."

  My mouth is as dry as cotton balls and I'm losing every bit of confidence I had. "I…it's just that—I didn't realize you were with other people, too."

  His thumb brushes my cheek. "I guess I wasn't very clear. I don't believe in monogamy. It's an antiquated notion best suited for our parent's generation. C'mon, you know there's more than enough of me to share."

  Antiquated notion? This is not the Kyle that whispers deliciously naughty things in my ear and then compliments me on my ability to fact check one of his pieces in record speed. "I don't..." I jump off the couch. "I don't just sleep around. I can't believe I didn't see this before."

  Kyle reaches for my hand and pulls me back toward the couch. "I really like you. I think you're going places and you're one hell of a reporter already. I'd really like to keep things the way they are."

  "You mean sleeping with me while you're also screwing other girls?"

  "You say that so harshly."

  I point to the door. "Just get out."

  "Don't do this. You like b
eing with me. I like being with you. I don't see the issue."

  "The issue?" My voice rises. "The issue is that you're a pig. And I didn't even realize it until right now. Get. Out."

  He stands, frowning. "Fine. I'm going. But listen, if this is going to be awkward between us..."

  The humiliation of it wraps around my limbs and throbs in my heart until I can't stand it. I can't show up at work tomorrow knowing… knowing…"Don't worry about it. I quit."

  "You don't have to do that."

  "Please, Kyle, just get out."

  After he's gone, I throw my stupid Kerouac book and it hits the wall with a thud. I'm itching to throw something else. I settle for punching the door. It hurts. It really fucking hurts. I lean up against the door, cradling my hand and slide down until my ass hits the floor. I just lost everything I've worked so hard to accomplish the past three years. I rest my head against my knees. I need that Fellowship more now than anything in the world.

  I sit against the door for what feels like hours and finally pull myself up. My cell phone is under the table. I pick it up and read the text Kyle just sent me. I think you're making a mistake.

  I close my eyes and pretend none of this happened but my phone vibrates again. Convenient. A text from Vince. Sorry about today. Let's talk.

  I don't want to talk to him. And I'd rather deal with the humiliation with Kyle than go back to Iowa. But I don't have a choice now. I need that prize money.

  No. We can go to Iowa. My schedule just opened up.

  My phone vibrates again except this time it's not a text. Vince is actually calling me. I debate on sending it straight to voicemail, but I want to talk to someone. I want to hear someone else's voice. Vince's will have to do.

  "Yeah?"

  "What's going on? Why the change of heart?"

  I'm not gonna cry. I'm not gonna cry. I'm especially not going to cry with Vince on the phone. "Let's just say something bad happened. Now I don't need to worry about taking any time off. Fuck it. Let's go back."

  How did I sound? Can he tell something's wrong? Do I sound spontaneous and carefree? Those are the type of girls he's probably used to.

  He's quiet for a minute. "It was that asshole, wasn't it?"