Unable to look at him, I pull my gaze away and stare at my lap. “Well, get on with it. You’ll feel better once you spit it out.”
“What did I do wrong?”
“What?” I look back at him.
“With Ava. What did I do? What didn’t she like? How can I ever move on if I don’t even know why she left?”
This is about Ava? Part of me is relieved. At the same time, I don’t want to talk about her anymore. Or, you know, ever again.
Irritated, I say, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Ava is a bi—”
“Kaylee,” he interrupts with a chuckle.
“—bit stupid.”
He raises a brow, smirking. I shrug, happy I made him smile.
“I think it was my job,” he says after a minute, looking away. “She kept pressing me to find something else.”
I sit back, aghast. “Kyle Fisher, you have the coolest job in the world. How many little boys would give away their favorite LEGO to grow up to be you?”
He shifts, getting comfortable as he faces me, and drapes his arm along the back of the couch. His knee is pressed next to mine, and his fingers are less than an inch from my hair.
Not a big deal.
But it feels…different. I can’t explain how, but my heart notices. My pulse quickens, and butterflies stir in my stomach.
Oblivious, he continues, “Maybe I wasn’t smart enough for her—”
“Shut up.”
“I don’t know.” He laughs to himself and waits until our eyes meet again. When they do, he says, “Maybe I’m a bad kisser.”
I scoff at that, probably a bit too loudly.
A smile toys at his lips. “It’s not like you would know.”
Rub it in, why don’t you?
“I just highly doubt that was it,” I tell him. “If you were that bad, she’d have dumped you in the first month—not stayed with you for five years.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “What if all this time, I’ve been terrible, and I have no idea?”
I begin to rise, acknowledging I can’t take much more of this conversation. Before I can get away, Kyle sets his hand on my knee and gently holds me in place.
I go from mildly fluttery to full-out flustered in two-point-three seconds. My stomach tightens, and my cheeks get hot, and now I’m imagining things I shouldn’t be imagining.
Kyle studies me and then nods to himself as if he’s come to a conclusion. “You have to kiss me, Kaylee. Just so we know.”
“Are you drunk?” I say, my voice flat. “You want me to kiss you?”
“I’m not drunk—I didn’t have one drink all night. You know that.” He smiles. “Come on. You’re my best friend—you’re the only woman alive who will tell me the truth.”
I’m the only woman alive who will cry herself to sleep because she got to kiss Kyle, and it wasn’t real.
“This is ridiculous,” I tell him. “We’re not testing my skills—if you want to know, you should kiss me.”
Kyle’s eyes lock on mine. He slowly raises a brow, questioning me, and I instantly regret my big words. They sounded good in my head.
“That’s a good point,” he says slowly. “Maybe I’ll walk you through what I normally do, and you can give me tips.”
I blink at him, and he takes my stunned silence as: “Yes, Kyle, let’s get on with this intriguing experiment.”
“Okay, so we’re sitting on the couch, right?” He lowers his voice, and his tone goes deeper.
“We appear to be.”
“Well, if I were going to kiss you, I’d start slow.” Kyle shifts a tiny bit closer, and then he wraps a strand of my hair around his finger, slowly twirling it. “I’d begin with something like this.”
Suddenly, the air is a tiny bit too thick to breathe.
“Then I’d move a little closer.”
Slowly—we’re talking sloth speed here—Kyle’s free hand finds my waist, but he doesn’t rest it there—oh no, not yet. His fingers toy with the edge of my belt, barely touching me.
“We’d be deep in conversation.” He nods as he says it, pretending I just said something interesting. “And I’d give you my full attention—let you know I respect you, value what you have to say. I wouldn’t hurry or move too fast.”
I lick my lips, and his eyes follow the movement.
“I’d wait until you showed me you wanted me to come closer—like if you moved in or touched me.”
I’m frozen in place, my heart beating a mile a minute, trapped in his gray-blue gaze.
“Kaylee,” he says, his tone soft, almost like he’s telling me a secret.
“What?”
“This is the part where you’re supposed to touch me, give me a cue.”
The softest of giggles, more air than noise, escapes me. An amused smile plays on Kyle’s lips.
“This is the stupidest idea you’ve ever had,” I inform him.
Ignoring me, he places his hand on mine and guides it to his shoulder. “Maybe like this?”
“Sure…”
He lifts his brows, silently asking me if I’m ready to continue. I nod, though I’m pretty sure I’m going to die. My heart can’t keep up this pace. Kyle’s hand, which had been innocently playing at my waist, presses to my side, the pressure warm and surprisingly intimate.
Don’t sigh, don’t melt. Be strong.
He leans in, his mouth just inches from mine. “How am I doing so far?” he asks, and his breath tickles my lips.
“Fine.”
“Any tips?”
“I’ll save them for the end,” I breathe.
He chuckles low, and I shiver. “Next, I’d tell you how beautiful you look today in that blue dress.”
He noticed the dress I painstakingly picked out. It’s casual but flattering, in cobalt, his favorite color. I almost tell him I chose it for him, but I hold my tongue.
“You wore your hair down, too. It drove me crazy—I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. Do you know how hard it was for me to keep my hands to myself when we met in the hall of the restaurant?”
My gaze flies to his. That sounded a little too real.
I force a smile and keep my words light. “I suppose this is where I tell you that you looked handsome too.”
“Handsome—not hot,” he clarifies.
“Handsome is so much better,” I whisper.
He laughs under his breath, and then his bottom lip brushes mine. I suck in a tiny gasp, startled by the contact even though I knew it was coming.
Kyle moves his hand from my hair to the back of my neck. “And then I’d kiss you.”
I nod, trying to get a hold of my racing emotions.
“But only if I knew you were ready.” He backs up just far enough our eyes meet. “Are you?”
Exasperated, I breathe, “Would you shut up and do it already?”
He’s smiling when our mouths meet. My hand tightens on his shoulder. His breath is warm, his jaw is smooth, and he smells faintly of aftershave. It’s a clean scent, fresh and masculine. I’ve never noticed it before, but I’ve never had the pleasure of getting this close.
Gently, he kisses me, coaxing my lips to move with his. A voice in my head screams at me to keep it cool, don’t give in, don’t let him know that I want so much more.
“Kiss me, Kaylee,” he demands softly. “I can’t do this alone.”
And that’s all it takes.
All reason flies from my mind. I move into Kyle, setting both my hands on his shoulders. I slant my mouth over his, begging for more, giving more.
It’s his surprised groan that completely undoes me. Suddenly, both his hands are on my waist, and he’s pulling me onto his lap. I’m leaning into him, pressing my hands against his chest. His hands move to my back and then into my hair again, almost like he can’t decide where to touch first.
The sound of footsteps in the hall brings us back to our senses. I jerk away from him, heart racing, hair wild, makeup most likely smeared, and stare at Kyle with wide eyes.
/> What the heck just happened?
Kyle looks just as shocked.
Savannah spots Kyle and me sitting on the couch—side-by-side, not touching—and comes to a stop. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No,” I say, but my voice is heavy. I clear my throat. “We were just talking.”
She studies us for a few moments. “Right…”
Kyle stands, stretching his arms in the air, acting like he’s half asleep. “I need to head out.”
Savannah flashes me a questioning look when Kyle passes, sensing something is up. I try not to burst into semi-hysterical giggles as I pass her and walk with Kyle to the door. When we’re safely outside, alone, he turns back to me, his expression enigmatic.
“So,” he says. “How did I do?”
I stare at him, daring him to tell me that wasn’t something. It was. It had to have been.
He looks rattled, but he hides it well.
“It wasn’t too bad.” I cross my arms. “I think with a little practice, you might just get it.”
“Is that right?” A smile creeps over his face, but then it’s gone. “What do I need to improve upon?”
My heart thumps in my chest. Am I doing this?
Apparently, I am. I almost run my finger down his chest, all sultry-like, but at the last minute, I lose my nerve and let my hand fall to my side. Still, we’re close. So, so close. “Less talking,” I say boldly. “A girl doesn’t want you to ask permission. She just wants to be kissed.”
He blinks at me, and his lips part with surprise. After a moment, he lets out a dark chuckle—the kind that makes you feel all warm and melty—and takes a step forward. “I’ll remember that for next time.”
Next time? Next time with some random someone? Or next time…with me?
My stomach warms, and my knees wobble. Despite that, I somehow manage a shrug. The air sparks between us, charged with words unsaid. But maybe it’s in my head. Maybe it’s just me.
“Night, Kaylee.” After another long moment, Kyle turns down the drive and walks to his Jeep.
As soon as I’m safely inside, I collapse against the door, my mind running a mile a minute.
“What happened?” Savannah demands. “You look like you’ve been thoroughly kissed.”
“That’s because I have been thoroughly kissed.”
She squeals and dances in place. “I knew it! Well? Was it good?”
I bite my bottom lip as I relive it, grinning like a lovesick fool. It was the best kiss of my life.
16
I start my Jeep, my head reeling. As soon as Kaylee shuts the door for the night, I let out a deep breath and rest my head back.
I kissed Kaylee.
She kissed me back.
And most importantly, I liked it.
Yes, I went about it in the lamest, most cowardly way possible, but I had to test the water. This was mostly safe—mostly under control. Well, it was controlled until Kaylee stopped holding back, and then I lost my head.
Before I do something insane, like go back in there and kiss her again, I force myself to pull out of her subdivision and head toward home.
As soon as I reach my house, I stare at my phone. After a good five minutes, I work up the nerve to text her.
Kyle: The lunar eclipse is next Tuesday. Are you up for a late night?
Almost immediately, three little dots appear on the screen…and then disappear. And appear again. This happens several times, making me think Kaylee keeps erasing what she wrote. Finally, her reply comes in.
Kaylee: Sure.
I laugh to myself.
Kyle: I’ll bring coffee. You bring blankets.
Kaylee: Sounds like a plan.
I rub my hand over my stomach, feeling a sudden case of worry-induced nausea. I just asked my best friend out on a date—even if she doesn’t realize that’s what it is yet.
* * *
The base of Red Rock Off-road Tours and Rentals is nothing more than a tiny building near the southernmost Forest Service entrance. It was built in the 80s and has been painted several times and remodeled at least once. The architecture is a strange conglomeration of forest lodge and contemporary desert. It’s like a cabin with stucco siding, complete with dormers, faux shutters, and an embossed lizard above the door. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, but it works for us.
Jeeps, assorted SUVs, and four-wheelers line the front, and a massive sign advertising our goods and services stands on a twenty-foot post near the street.
I have a tour in an hour, and I need to make sure Sally remembered to order more of my itineraries for this trail. If not, I’ll have to call the print shop and see if they can rush me an order. I should have remembered Saturday, but I was a little preoccupied, and they were closed yesterday.
“Morning, Kyle,” Sally says from behind her desk. “Have a good weekend?”
Immediately, my mind goes back to the kiss.
“Yeah, actually,” I say. “It was great.”
To my relief, a stack of itineraries waits for me in my box.
“Did someone drop off the lunches?” I ask as I absently pull a couple of the glossy papers from the stack.
“They’re in the fridge, ready for you to load into a cooler.”
Not all the rides are catered, but this one is. My group is small today, just a married couple—both photographers. We got a dusting of snow last night, so I’m sure they’ll be excited. Tourists don’t usually expect snow in Arizona, but we’re close enough to Flagstaff that we see it occasionally. It almost always melts by noon, though, so it’s a good thing it’s a morning ride.
Sally follows me into the back room. “So, how did you like speed dating?”
I pull a small cooler from the shelf and begin filling it with the usual—bottled water, a few sodas and flavored sparkling waters, and then the lunches that Chris, our boss, ordered from the café. “It was an experience.”
She leans against the counter and laughs. “Meet anyone?”
“Nah.” I zip the cooler and toss the strap over my shoulder. “I don’t think I’m really a speed dating kind of guy.”
“You didn’t get any matches?”
“Only Kaylee.”
Sally gapes at me. “Kaylee? But I didn’t think you two were…like that.”
I shrug as I leave the back room, knowing she’ll probably follow. “It was a joke—we said we’d mark each other so we wouldn’t look like losers without matches.”
“I’m sure lots of women marked you, Kyle.” She laughs again, but this time it sounds weird—a little high pitched. “I did.”
Slowly, I turn around to face her.
“Just for fun,” she clarifies, but she’s acting all strange. “Chris doesn’t have any rules about coworkers dating after all.”
This conversation is like reaching the top of a rollercoaster and realizing half the track is missing—there’s no way to escape, and it’s going to be ugly at the bottom.
“Sally, I…”
She waves my concern away. “Not a big deal.”
“I’m not really ready to date again…” I begin to say, and then I cut myself off. Is that true? Or is it an excuse? Because I seemed pretty ready Saturday night.
“Can I give you a little advice?” she asks, giving me a knowing look and smiling in a way that makes me think my not marking her was a big deal. “I know Ava hurt you, and Kaylee has helped you get through it. But don’t confuse friendship with something more. You two have been friends since you were kids—don’t you think if you were meant to be together, you’d already be together?”
I stare at her, stunned.
Her smile turns sympathetic, and she pats my arm. “I just don’t want to see you mess up a good thing. It would suck to lose her too.”
She leaves after that, heading back to the front desk. I frown after her, thinking way too hard about something that hasn’t even happened yet. With a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I take my things out to the Jeep and finish prepping for the ride.
17
Frying Twinkies is impossible—absolutely impossible. Savannah sits at the counter, looking particularly worried.
“You might have to call this experiment a loss,” she finally says when the batter comes off my fifth Twinkie.
“Can’t,” I say, tossing yet another ruined snack cake onto a plate with its fellow failures. “It’s on the list.”
“I don’t understand this list.” She frowns as I rip open another package. “What is it?”
“I made it at a restaurant the day after Ava broke up with Kyle. It’s a collection of all the things he’s wanted to do or try but felt like he couldn’t when he was with Ava.”
“But isn’t he over Ava?”
“One would hope. That’s not what the list is about anymore.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, and then she sighs. “I’ll bite. What’s it about?”
I wipe my hands on a paper towel. “Whether Kyle realized it or not, he gave me a list of his hopes and dreams.”
Savannah raises a brow. “His hopes and dreams include deep-fried Twinkies?”
“Okay, so maybe ‘hopes and dreams’ is too strong, but you know what I mean. These are things Kyle wants, and if I give them to him, or do them with him, then maybe—”
“He’ll fall in love with you.”
She says it in a tone I don’t particularly care for.
“What?” I demand.
Laughing softly, she shakes her head. “Nothing. It’s just…you don’t need all this to make Kyle fall in love with you. Kaylee, you’re lovable all on your own.”
I press my hand to my chest. “Aww, you think I’m lovable?”
“Even when you’re covered in snack cake crumbs, batter, and splattered oil.”
Smiling, I go back to work, destroying yet another Twinkie.
“This is ridiculous,” I complain as it falls apart when I dip it into the batter.
Savannah scrolls down a page on her phone. “This recipe I just found says you should freeze the Twinkies first.”
That does sound easier. With a sigh, I unplug the fryer I bought just for this experiment, plop the rest of the Twinkies on a cookie sheet, and slide them into the freezer.
27 Ways to Mend His Broken Heart Page 8