by L. D. Davis
“What’s the party for?”
“For nothing,” he said frowning. “It’s all for appearances. The Main Line men will pat each other on the back for being wealthy and the women will parade around in the season’s newest designer dresses and brag about their charity work and ski trips to the French Alps and compare nannies and housekeepers.”
“Interesting statements from a man who spends thousands of dollars on a single suit. Do you want me to go?”
He gave me a tight smile. “Of course I want you there. Even if you will be with Luke, and I’ll be with Jess.”
He said so few words, and they could have been said innocently, but they didn’t feel innocent. Though subtle, I had the feeling they were meant to wriggle under my skin.
“What should I tell my mother?”
Gah. I didn’t have an excuse prepared to decline.
And…Kyle wanted me there.
With a sigh, I said, “Tell your mother I will be there.”
The elevator doors slid open and we stepped out and started across the lobby. As we neared the front revolving doors, I realized it was pouring rain. Even with my umbrella, I would surely be soaked by the time I got to the train and then from the train to my car. Bad weather was the only downside to not driving into the city every day.
When Kyle offered to drive me to my car, I readily accepted the ride.
The rain was falling in sheets and giving everyone a reason to drive like idiots—more than usual. Surprisingly, Kyle didn’t complain when he was cut off by cabs or when traffic gridlocked. He kept one hand on the wheel and one on the back of my seat. I had the funny feeling that his hand wasn’t there because it was comfortable. It felt like a position of possession.
“Do you want to go to the diner?” Kyle asked.
“I have meatballs in a crockpot at home,” I said apologetically.
“I could go for some meatballs.”
Probably, it would have served me well to say no.
“I just have to stop at the bakery on my way home,” I said instead and immediately regretted it. I wasn’t sure if we were ready for that. I was trying to think of a way out of the situation. When I met his eyes, however, he smiled happily and I lost the heart to tell him no.
Traffic eventually eased and we made our way out of the city. As we crossed over the Ben Franklin Bridge at a snail’s pace, I felt the slight tug of my hair and knew that Kyle’s was winding locks of my hair around his fingers. I should have stopped him. I should have smacked him away and told him how we were doing so well and he was ruining it.
But I couldn’t. The words were stuck in my throat.
When I didn’t object to him touching my hair, he took it a step further, brushing his knuckles across my cheek and tracing his fingers along my neckline under my hair.
I needed to call it off. I needed to get out of his car at the train station and send him home. I needed to be firm and put my foot down.
“I’ll meet you at your house,” Kyle said after pulling up behind my car.
I looked at him, ready to tell him to just go home, but he wasn’t looking at me like he wanted to kiss me or do anything more than what he just did. He looked tired, relaxed, and unassuming.
I realized that I was probably overreacting. Kyle didn’t really know how to be friends with a woman, and maybe I just had to tell him what was appropriate touching and what wasn’t. Maybe we just needed to have a small conversation about it.
“There’s a spare key under that big rock in the front garden, if you don’t want to wait outside for me,” I said, making my decision.
I told you. I was swimming in the deep end.
“Fantastic. Now I can sneak into your house anytime I want to.”
“Can you turn the crockpot off, stalker?” I asked, shaking my head.
“Sure. Be careful.” To my astonishment, he leaned over and kissed the corner of my mouth.
“Okay,” I said, flustered.
I practically tumbled out of the car into the rain.
As I got into my car, I knew we definitely had to have a talk. Definitely.
When I got home with bread for dinner and cake for dessert, Kyle was draining pasta in the sink. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and the top of his shirt was unbuttoned. His tie was on the table and his jacket was draped over a kitchen chair.
“Thank you, Betty Crocker,” I said, pulling my shoes off.
“Julia Childs,” he grinned.
“I’ll be back, Julia. I have to change.”
I went upstairs and after some thought I changed into unattractive sweat pants and an ugly purple tee shirt. Maybe if I looked a hot mess, Kyle would be less likely to want to throw me on the floor and make sweet love to me.
The thought of it instantly made me horny.
I sighed and returned to the kitchen where Kyle had set the table and poured two glasses of red wine.
“Nice work,” I said, impressed.
“Thanks.”
We ate dinner with quiet conversation. It was pleasant and platonic, and I started to feel that maybe we could pull off this friendship thing after all. Before he went home, we would have that small talk about good touch and bad touch and things would be fine.
After dinner, we put the dishes in the sink and started on the cake while standing at the counter. I thought it would be a great time to bring up the hair obsession, the touching, and the corner mouth kiss, but I again wondered if I was overreacting. Maybe Kyle was finally just getting comfortable with our friendship.
“I want to talk to you about something,” he said after we finished the cake and had washed it down with the rest of the wine.
I blinked out of my thoughts and looked at him.
“If it’s about the cake, I’m sorry. We can’t always have my mother’s cake, and I’m not a good baker. My cookies burn and my cakes are crunchy.”
His mouth curved up slightly, amusement danced in his eyes.
“I’ll let it slide this time,” he said.
“What a friend.” I gave his arm a hearty, friendly whack.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Oh?” I reflexively took a step backward, which was a big mistake. I literally backed myself into a corner. Kyle wasted no time closing the distance between us and trapping me there.
I stared up at him with large eyes.
“I don’t want to just be your friend,” he said, inching closer to me.
I knew I should have trusted my gut. I knew I should have brushed him off earlier. My silence and lack of reaction apparently did nothing but encourage him.
“We had an agreement,” I said weakly.
“No, baby,” he said in a low voice that made me shiver violently. “You agreed. I didn’t agree to something I knew I wouldn’t be able to do.”
I recognized the truth in his words immediately. Kyle never did actually say that he agreed to just be friends. He never made that promise. In fact, he said he would play it my way for the time being, not for forever. I had heard what I wanted to hear.
I tried to speak firmly, but when I spoke, I sounded like a frightened child. “You have to accept my friendship or nothing at all.”
“I don’t have to accept either one of those options,” he said, shaking his head. “You want to explore the possibilities as much as I do. You don’t like this box you’ve put us in any more than I do.”
“That’s not true,” I whispered, blinking back tears.
“Oh? It isn’t?” He ran a finger over my neck, just under my ear, like he did in the car earlier. A slow, sexy grin spread across his face. “See? Your eyes just glazed over. You love when I touch you.”
I angrily pushed his hand away. I was aggravated by his ballsy behavior, but I was more aggravated by my reaction to his touch.
“Get out,” I demanded, my voice shaking. I shoved at him, but he was prepared for it and didn’t budge.
I felt like a cornered animal. I was terrified of Kyle and the havoc he
was reeking inside of me. I lashed out as a trapped animal would. I slapped him in the face.
The sound bounced off of the walls of the kitchen. My hand stung like hell, and I took some satisfaction from the dubious look on his face. He reached up with one hand and touched his red cheek, and then he grinned.
One of his hands latched onto my wrist. When he reached for my other wrist, I fought him. I shoved at him and slapped at his chest and tried to elude getting shackled by his strong hand. But it was useless. His hand closed over my wrist and he pinned my arms to my sides.
“Don’t move,” he commanded in a low growl.
Frozen in place, I stood there as he leaned forward to kiss me. Just as his lips touched mine, I turned my head. I made promises to Luke, even if he didn’t hear them. I promised I wouldn’t stray. I had to put forth every effort I could to keep my promises, even if my heart and my body were betraying me.
Releasing my wrists, Kyle firmly held my head in his hands and forcibly turned my head to face him.
I was pressed into the counter, with nowhere to go, and he had a firm hold on my head. I could have hit him, or pinched him, but I felt my fighting spirit fleeing me.
I hated myself for the anticipation I felt as his mouth met mine.
Kyle’s lips were warm, his tongue warmer. When it was apparent I wasn’t going to fight him anymore, he used his hands to pull my body against his. Thoughtlessly, I locked my hands at the back of his neck. He moaned appreciatively and pulled me as close as we could get without him being inside of me.
I knew I should stop. I knew it. I knew I should pull away and scream and shout and fight until he left. I knew it.
Instead, I shut my brain off and lost myself in his kiss.
My fingers played with the short hair at the back of his head as my body weight leaned into him. His hands caressed my thighs and ass and he slowly ground his hips, pressing his erection against me. I wanted to climb him like a tree and wrap myself around him.
Minutes passed, judging by the numbness spreading through my lips. Then Kyle suddenly pulled away. Entirely. He backed away from me, leaving me confused and wanting and strung out.
“I want you to think about that for a few days before you decide you only want to be my friend,” he said breathlessly, giving me a hard look.
He gathered his things as I stood there in a state of shock, unable to speak. He gave me one last weighted look before leaving me alone in the kitchen. Moments later I heard the front door close.
I covered my mouth with a loud gasp when I realized what I had just done. Again.
I had no time to think about it, no time to recover. I was still reeling when my phone buzzed on the kitchen table. On weak knees I crossed the room and plucked the phone off of the table.
“Hey, babe,” Luke said.
“Hey,” I said, breathlessly.
“You sound like you ran to the phone.”
“I practically did,” I lied and then mentally chastised myself for lying.
Well, I couldn’t tell him Kyle left me breathless, could I?
“How are you?” Luke asked.
A little fucked up. A lot of fucked up. I was all kinds of fucked up.
I was fucked.
I put a hand to my forehead and collapsed into a chair.
“Fine. Just tired,” I lied, trying to control the pitch of my voice. “How are you?”
“The same,” he sighed.
I listened as much as I could as he told me about some of the legal woes of Sterling Corp. I responded at the right times, gave him some indication that I was paying attention, but my fingers kept tracing my lips, and my heart was still racing. I could still smell Kyle’s cologne and feel the ghost of his hands on my body.
“So, what’s going on in your world?” Luke asked, blasting me back into reality.
Guiltily, I dropped my hand away from my mouth and tried to refocus.
“The Sterlings invited us to a cocktail party they’re having on Saturday,” I said.
“While that sounds painfully merry, I have a bachelor’s party to attend Saturday night in Chicago.”
Despite everything, I found myself chuckling. “Painfully merry. Funny. I forgot you weren’t coming right home. You’re flying to Chicago to get drunk and have other women shake their boobs in your face.”
Kissing another guy wasn’t any better.
“If it bothers you, I won’t go,” he said, and I knew that he was serious. I had the feeling Luke would do just about anything for me, which made me feel so much worse for my make out session with Kyle.
“No,” I kicked at the table leg. “It doesn’t bother me. Maybe I’m just jealous.”
“Jealous? You’re not the jealous type.”
“Maybe I want boobs shaken in my face,” I teased, though I found it difficult to smile.
Luke laughed hard for almost half a minute. The smile came easier despite how miserable I was feeling. I loved the sound of Luke’s laughter.
“You’re a riot,” he said after regaining his composure.
“I know. Seriously, though, have a good time, be careful. Make sure you get a lap dance.”
“I’d rather have you dancing on my lap,” he said in a sexy voice.
“Well, you know where to find me.”
He chuckled. “I’m going to get to bed. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Night. Miss you.” I meant it. I missed him, and my guilt made me miss him even more.
“Miss you, too. And…”
“And?”
“I love you,” he said in a faint voice.
I swallowed back my tears and as happily as I could muster, I said, “I love you, too, Luke.”
The second the phone call ended, the tears sprang from my eyes.
That was the first time we ever verbally acknowledged that we loved each other. It should have been a joyous and giddy occasion for me, but it was overshadowed by the other man that I loved.
I let my head fall to the table with a loud THUNK.
I was so fucked.
Chapter Fifteen
At work, I pretended that nothing had happened. Kyle did, too, which should have made life a little easier, but Kyle wasn’t being friendly. He wasn’t being a dick either. He was indifferent. It was as if he was saying, “See, this is how it will be if you decide you only want to be friends. You’ll get nothing.”
At the end of late work nights, Kyle usually left with me, and always offered to take me to my car. This time when I stepped into the elevator, he bid me goodnight and took the stairs. By the time the elevator reached the lobby after picking up stragglers from other floors, Kyle was gone.
I decided that I was going to have to shake it off. Psshh, that kiss wasn’t even all that. If he wanted it to be that way, that was fine. I could be indifferent, too. I was indifferent before he stalked me and found me in my bar that night. I could do it again.
When Saturday rolled around, I was mentally and emotionally exhausted from being indifferent. I almost didn’t feel like going to the cocktail party. I lounged around on the couch, flipping through boring Saturday television and eating popcorn with too much butter. My mom called me half a million times, but I never answered. Judging from the voicemails she left, she wasn’t calling about anything important.
The party was at six. At three, I had to make a decision. If I was going to go, I had to shower, shave, wash and style my hair and do my makeup. Even then, I would be fashionably late.
My dress was still in the garment bag I brought it home in, draped over a chair in the living room, and my new shoes sat in a box by the couch. If I didn’t go, the carefully selected dress and shoes would have been bought in vain, and I did not waste designer clothes and shoes.
I dragged myself off of the couch and went upstairs to get ready.
***
The Sterling Estate was off of the affluent Main Line, not far from stupid Jess’s family estate. The enormous house sat on thirty acres of private land. During the summer, the proper
ty was beautifully landscaped with lush gardens and fountains shaped like naked little cherubs spitting water out of their mouths…and other things.
I pulled up into the Sterling’s driveway a few minutes after six and handed my keys off to a valet. Upon entering the door, I checked my coat. Just outside of the ballroom—yes, a ballroom—a servant waited with a tray of champagne. I snagged one and drank half of it by the time I was a few steps inside the room.
I paused and took in my surroundings. Dim lights were strung from the ceiling, casting a soft light on the room. The bar, I quickly noted, was in the far left corner, and there were tables of food straight ahead, along with servants wandering the place with trays of booze and food. Couches, love seats, and chairs draped in rich red and white fabrics were strategically placed throughout the room. I was impressed by the posh set up and looked around appreciatively.
There must have been two hundred people in the room. I recognized some faces, but many were strangers. There was no sign of Kyle, his parents, or Jessyca. I floated toward the bar, stopping to speak to a few people along the way.
An old acquaintance, Trevor, followed me on my journey. I think he thought he was gonna get some because I was paying him a little attention. He was good looking enough, but he was a pig. I was pretty sure I heard a rumor that he had the clap.
I was rescued from Trevor at the bar several drinks later when Kyle magically appeared at my side.
“Hello,” he said, openly letting his eyes wander up and down my body.
In my mind, while purchasing my dress and shoes, I told myself that I was buying the nude, backless, short dress because it was stylish, not because I knew Kyle would love it. The six inch red shoes were bought because they matched the dress, not because Kyle thought high heels made my legs look incredibly sexy. I wore my hair up with the exception of a few loose strands, because it was comfortable, not because Kyle had a thing for me exposing my neck in this way.
But let’s be truthful. I did it all for Kyle.
Shame on you, Emmy.
“Hello, Kyle.”
“My mother is looking for you,” he said, offering his hand.
“Nice seeing you again, Trevor,” I said, taking Kyle’s hand and gracefully stepping off of the stool.