“You need me to brush yours?” he asks, handing mine over.
I laugh and lead us to the bathroom. “Hopefully, I can manage this one by myself.”
“Tell me if you change your mind. I’ve never brushed anyone else’s teeth, but I don’t mind getting that personal with you.”
We share the sink and brush our teeth in silence. Next, we floss. He leaves when I ask him for my makeup wipes. He drops them off and then goes back into the bedroom. When I walk out, he’s already changed into sweatpants with no shirt on and in bed, his back against the headboard.
Sharing a bed with him and not for sexual reasons makes my stomach flip-flop. Sure, we sleep in the same one during sleepovers, but that’s after sex. This is different. This is comfortable. This feels like we’re in a relationship.
I shake my head. Quit questioning this. He’ll probably jump on you as soon as you get in.
I wouldn’t object to it.
He taps the spot next to him. “Come here.”
When I crawl in, he pulls the sheet to our waists, snatches my hips, and drags me to his side. I rest my head on his shoulder.
A pained breath leaves him. “I want to tell you something.”
I perk up in his arms. “What’s up?”
His voice turns gentle. “Kent’s words … they keep creeping up on me.”
“Kyle, he was mad and talking shit.”
“He said I’d treat you like a whore.” He leans us forward, so he can settle his arm behind me, and then he runs his fingers through my hair, untangling the mess. “I never want you to feel like that, Chloe. I’ve never and I will never think of you that way.”
“Kyle,” I cut in.
“No, let me finish.”
I shut my mouth.
“If you ever, for even one second, feel like that, you tell me … and slap me in the face. I’m not only here for sex. You’re not my whore. I’m a fan of dirty talk, yes, but us having sex isn’t what this is all about.”
My heart races at his confession, and I struggle for words while staring at him. “So, this isn’t just casual sex between two neighbors?”
His lips tilt into a smile.
I give him a cheesy smile in return.
“Absolutely fucking not. Again, I can find sex anywhere.” He squeezes me.
If I could see my heart, it’d be glowing.
I make myself comfortable, and he rests his hand on my waist. The warmth of his skin relaxes me.
The room turns quiet, the TV he turned on the only noise, and he scratches his jaw before speaking. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Depends on what it is,” I mutter.
His hand moves and begins stroking my shoulder. “Hey, don’t blame a man for being curious about the woman in his bed.”
“I’m close to drunk, so ask away.”
“What made you decide to be a writer?”
I gulp. I hate being asked that question, and I normally lie. I don’t to him. “Because of Trey’s dad.”
He tenses. “The deadbeat asshole?”
I nod. “He was the only guy of my sister’s who was nice to me.” I hold a finger up. “Correction: he was nice then.”
He tightens his hold, expecting a bad story.
“He helped me with my homework and talked to me about my goals. I only got books from him or the library, so when I was running low, I read the newspaper. It was a national paper, and I loved reading the articles. He told me writers got paid pennies and to choose a better career path. I won’t lie and say I didn’t change my mind, but then he broke my heart. I went to my journal and wrote about him, wishing I could publish it so that everyone else would know, too. I signed up for the newspaper to spite him, not caring if I’d make money, and I fell in love with it.”
“What did he do to hurt you?”
I rub my forehead, and the memories of fear and hurt play through my mind. “He was the same as all her other boyfriends. He was better at putting up a front. He hurt me, he hurt Trey, and I’ll never forgive him for that.”
He grits his teeth. “What do you mean, he hurt you?”
“No, no, nothing like that. More like hurt my feelings.”
He presses his lips to my cheek, then my nose, and then pulls back with a gentle smile. “I’m sorry that happened.”
I duck my head down. I hate talking about Sam. “Why were you so hell-bent on not going into law and politics?”
“I was expected to grow up in my father’s shadow. Instead, I decided I wanted to be a police officer. It pissed him off, but I didn’t care.”
“I like that you followed your heart.”
“I’m glad you followed yours. Fuck Trey’s dad.” His chest moves when he chuckles. “When you became editor of the school paper, Ms. Sanders allowed me to read your unapproved articles.”
Embarrassment and shock trickle up my spine. “What?”
There’s playfulness in his tone. “I was her TA, and she talked about how you wanted to create controversy with your articles. You never cared about speaking the truth, no matter how many toes you stepped on.”
“Nope. The truth will set you free.”
“If I recall, you wrote an interesting article about me.”
My face reddens. Shit. Shit. Shit. “No, she didn’t.”
“She did.”
“Isn’t that against code of conduct?”
“Like it mattered. She let me do whatever I wanted.”
“Oh my God, did you sleep with our teacher?”
“Why would you think that?”
“She was young and hot, and why else wouldn’t she have approved my articles about you?” I elbow him. “That’s against the law, you know. My next article will be about Ms. Sanders, the woman married to the principal, who was biased against my articles because you were banging her.”
He holds his hand up. “Whoa, hold on, killer. She wasn’t breaking laws and banging me.”
I snort.
“We slept together once after I graduated and was eighteen. She wasn’t married then.”
“Eh, whatever. I’ll be digging up dirt on her. I can’t believe you didn’t kill me for writing up the article.”
“Sweet Chloe, who would want to be upset someone wrote an article about them being a bully?”
“I never said your name.”
“The description fit me to a tee. A young athlete with a father in power receives favor from the principal and teachers and drinks underage at parties.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“It didn’t get published, did it?”
“It could’ve.”
He shrugs. “I like that you thought about me enough to write an article.” He kisses the top of my head. “You’re a skilled writer. I read everything you wrote. Don’t think I’m a stalker.”
“Really?”
He nods. “Everything that did and didn’t get published.”
“Why? Some of them were boring as shit.”
“I won’t deny that.” Quick breaths leave him. “You’ve always intrigued and interested me, Chloe. You wrote from the heart, whether people liked it or not. Gage gave me so much shit for reading them. You hated me, but those articles allowed me to learn more about you.”
I see the sincerity and honesty in his eyes.
He’s not lying.
He blows out a breath. “We’ve been drinking, so I’ll do a drunk confession, and if you don’t like it, maybe you’ll forget about it in the morning.”
“How about we make this a night of drunk confessions?” I stupidly reply.
His next words leave his mouth seconds later, as if he was waiting to release them. “I don’t think I like you anymore. It’s more than that now. Stronger than that. I’m fucking falling for you faster and harder than I have with anyone.” He grabs my face, rubbing small circles with his finger on the top of my cheek. “Please tell me if you feel it, too.”
My heart hammers against my chest, and fear sets in. “I do … I feel the same
way.”
He grins but still looks concerned. “You can ruin me. Please don’t.”
It’s weird, seeing Kyle like this, so open, vulnerable, and not the strong, joking guy he always is. His feelings for me scare him.
“I won’t.”
And, just like that, I lied straight to his face.
Seventeen
Chloe
The morning sun beams through the curtains. We’re at the hotel, and I don’t want to leave this room, where we poured more secrets in one night than our entire relationship.
Relationship.
Is that what we are?
In a relationship?
The idea of us being more than casual fuck buddies is exciting, but what happens when we return to the reality of Blue Beech?
What happens when what I’m hiding comes to light?
My back is against Kyle’s chest. We stayed in this position all night, and today feels different from any other morning we’ve woken up side by side.
His fingers lace around my stomach, and the sound of him yawning hits my ear. I somehow manage to twist in his arms through the tight confinement he has me in until I’m facing him, chest-to-chest, our mouths inches apart.
I love the view of his handsome face in the morning. His hair is unruly. Day-old scruff sits on his cheeks of perfection. He’s so carefree in the morning. Hell, he’s so carefree in life. That balance is nice because I am so the opposite. Kyle puts me at ease when the rest of the world tears me down. The corners of his eyes crinkle when he notices me studying him.
“Good morning,” I whisper.
“Good morning, gorgeous girl,” he answers with a smile. “As much as I love saying those words to you, it’s nice to hear them first. How did you sleep?”
I respond with an easy smile. “Perfect.”
He rubs his hand over his scruff before leaning in to kiss me. “Any hangover signs yet?”
“So far, so good.”
Except for my word vomit last night.
He chuckles. “Your chest of secrets feel lighter this morning?”
Yes. No. Maybe.
“For the most part, yes.”
He snorts. “Only you would say for the most part.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re a glass ball of mysteries and secrets, but soon, you’ll let me crack each one open. You’ll see.”
“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“How many things did I say would happen between us while you stayed adamant they wouldn’t? All of them. Us in bed together—check. Serving you breakfast in bed—check. You opening up to me”—he playfully squeezes me—“in more ways than one—check.”
I slap his arm. “Eventually, you’ll need to buy my place in order to house your entire ego.”
I shiver at his hand sliding up and down my arm.
“Fine by me. How about you stay at my house and my ego takes residence at yours?”
“Are you still nervous to have sex?” I ask teasingly.
“I’m not nervous to have sex with you. What’s worrying me is what your dumbass ex said.”
“You don’t make me feel like a whore, I promise.” With that, I grab his cock over his sweats. “In fact, maybe you should worry about me treating you like my whore.”
We drag our pants down at the same time. His nails bite into my waist when he thrusts inside me.
“I see no problem with that.”
I moan at his first thrust. We’re close—so close—and I’ve never had sex like this before. He cups my ass to yank me deeper into everything that is him before dragging his hand to my breast, cupping it.
Then, he stops me. “Can I ask you another question?”
Jesus. This man and his goddamn questions.
I attempt to move, but he doesn’t allow it. “Let’s save the question for when your cock isn’t inside me.” It’s never fair on my end.
“Why? I’m much more persuasive when my cock is inside you.”
I’m well aware.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I lie.
“That’s untrue. My cock was inside you when I asked if you wanted me to fuck you harder. You said yes. My cock was inside your mouth when I asked you if you wanted me to fuck your face harder. You said yes. My cock was inside you—”
I dramatically tilt my head back. “All right, all right, I get your point. Spit it out.”
His hand rides up to my back as he lightly caresses it. “Dallas Barnes, Lauren’s brother, is tying the knot next weekend. Want to be my wedding date?”
I’ve heard about the wedding. It’s had bigger buzz than my ex’s. Dallas and Willow’s story is more beautiful than my ex’s. No affairs present in their situation. Dallas lost his wife to cancer. It was tragic. I went to the funeral, and he was devastated. Willow saved him and his daughter from a lonely life.
I shove my face into his neck. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
He pulls out of me, and I fall to my back as he hovers above me, making strong eye contact. “Au contraire, I think it’s a great one.”
I bite into my lower lip. “People will talk.”
“Hopefully. I doubt anyone will be up for a mute wedding, but I’ll put in a request if it’ll make you more comfortable. Do you know sign language?”
I smack his shoulder. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You’re you … and I’m me,” I stutter out.
“Yes … I didn’t know you weren’t aware of that.”
“You’re a Lane. I’m a Fieldgain. We don’t go together.”
He slides back inside me and raises his hips, resulting in a gasp from me. “Wrong. We sure seem to go together pretty damn well right now.”
“To the outside world, we don’t go together.” And to me.
His hand reaches up to cup my breast, lightly squeezing it, and then his lips head to my ear. “Why do you care so much about what the outside world thinks?”
I caress his chest. “Says the guy who the entire town loves.”
“Says the girl this guy is falling for.”
My heart flutters, and my breathing is heavy as I smash my mouth to his.
All wedding talk disappears as he takes me away into another world, both physically and emotionally.
I’m exhausted.
We’re back at my house.
We ate breakfast with Gage and Lauren before leaving the hotel early this morning. It’s nice having a social life. Before Kent, it was nonexistent and went back to that after our breakup.
Kyle grabs my foot in his lap and massages it. “This weekend was fun. Thank you again.” He smiles. “Let’s figure out a weekend we can take the kids.”
I love that he thinks of things like that.
That’s when it hits me.
Kyle is great with kids. I saw it with Trey and Gloria. He’ll be a great father to lucky kids someday.
“Do you want kids?” I rush out before I lose the guts to ask.
His hand on my foot stops, and he uses the free one to scratch the back of his neck. “Maybe. Possibly. If it happens, it happens. Maybe adoption is a good idea for me.”
His answer seems rehearsed, as if he conjured up the right words for when I asked him. Sure, he most likely does get asked if he wants to be a father, but what guy says he wants kids but is considering taking the adoption route? A guy who’s had to think about it.
Anxiety twists in my gut. “Don’t bullshit me.”
He winces at my response and peers over at me in confusion. “What?”
“You heard Kent’s bitch wife call me barren.”
He nods. “I did, but it’s not my place to bring it up. It’s a personal issue for you, and when you’re ready to trust me with it, you’ll come to me.” He squeezes my foot. “I don’t mind waiting for you to reveal all parts of yourself to me. Do it piece by piece; that’s cool with me.”
“I can’t have children,” I whisper. I told him I was on birth c
ontrol the first time we had sex because I was afraid of telling him this.
People aren’t sure how to respond when they hear a woman say infertility. Hell, before, I wouldn’t have known how to respond with that statement.
He nods again, processing what I said without showing an ounce of emotion. Lowering his voice, he says, “You love children.”
“I do,” I answer with a choked-up voice, and my anxiety rushes harder as the tears start.
“I’m sorry, Chloe.” He grabs my arm and pulls me onto his lap.
I stare down and gulp. “That’s why you said you were up for adopting, isn’t it?”
He delves his hand through my hair before lowering it and using the tip of his finger to drag my chin up. “Hey, you don’t know that. Maybe I’ve always wanted to adopt.”
“Always as in the last twelve hours after you heard what Lacy said?”
I sniffle, and my breakdown is coming. My hurt normally comes when I’m alone, and no one’s here to judge me. They can’t see my pain—not my doctor, not my mother or sister, not Kent.
It’s thrown in my face—by my mother, by my sister when I ask her for the children, by Kent when we broke up. Pissed off people never fail to throw other’s misfortune in their faces.
He wipes away my tears. “That doesn’t matter.”
I keep my gaze on him. “So, you did say it because you knew there was a possibility of that. You said it, so you wouldn’t hurt my feelings.”
“True, but I also said it because I mean it. I see a future with you. Shit, I want a future with you.” He places a hand over his heart and gives me a smile. “If adopting a child is how we have children, then I’m down.”
I wind my arms around his neck. “I guess I’ll have you.”
He gives me a gentle smile, grabs my hand, and kisses it. “Do you want to tell me why you can’t?”
“I have endometriosis,” I tell him. “It’s a health condition that can cause infertility in women and issues that can result in having their uterus removed. I was one of those women.”
Just Neighbors Page 16