by Kira Ward
“You slept with him!”
“Sara!”
I grabbed her arm and dragged her inside the apartment, an irrational fear that Major had overheard her making my cheeks burn.
“You did.”
“What makes you think—”
“A woman scorned is the only kind of woman who would respond to a guy like that.”
“I’m not a woman scorned!”
Sara followed me into the kitchen where I went in search of a bottle of wine I kept at the back of the refrigerator. She hopped up onto the kitchen counter to watch me.
“I know something happened between the two of you. So why don’t you just tell me instead of making me guess.”
I groaned, but if there was something I knew about Sara, it was that she was like a dog with a bone. She never let anything go.
“You have to promise not to say anything to Kyle.”
“Why?”
“Because he has this habit of saying, ‘I told you so.’”
“He knew you were going to sleep with your neighbor?”
“No. He knew this guy Ryan was going to turn out to be a loser.”
“Okay, now you really have to tell me.”
I grabbed a couple of glasses out of the cabinet and poured us both a healthy dose of wine. Then I went into the living room and curled up on the couch after kicking off my shoes, ironically sitting in the same spot I’d sat in when Major was there.
Sara settled next to me and knocked her shoulder into mine. “Tell me.”
So I did. I started with the vandalism on my car, the argument Major and I had in the hallway, and then with Ryan. I thought she was going to fall over when I told her what Ryan had done, but then when I explained how Major came rushing in like some sort of superhero, she was like a super fan at a Ryan Gosling movie.
“That’s so romantic! I can’t believe he just came rushing in here like that.”
“I told you, these walls are like paper. He probably heard me scream.”
“But he could have ignored your screams. Or thought you were just having good sex, like he’d been doing the week before.”
That had never crossed my mind. I guess I should have been more grateful that he’d come to my rescue than I’d been.
“And then?” Sara urged me.
“And then…” I looked over at the door, the memory of what happened next again making my cheeks burn. “And then I asked him to stay. And he did.”
“God, Sloane, you are so lucky! That guy has got to be the hottest guy I’ve seen in a very long time. And that’s saying a lot since I worked with that talent agent up in Austin last summer.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe? First he comes in and rescues you, then he takes you to bed? That’s the stuff that romance movies are made of.”
I shrugged. But I was thinking that if it had been all that romantic, he would have stuck around until I woke the next day. What kind of guy just up and leaves like that? Didn’t he think I’d want to talk in the morning? Or was that exactly what he was running from?
A guy who could key someone’s car out of retaliation for something so trivial had to be capable of just about anything.
“Do you really think he keyed your car?” Sara asked, almost as if she were reading my mind.
“I don’t know who else could have. He was the only one who had a beef against me.”
“It just…” Sara sighed rather than finishing her thought.
“What?”
“It just…it seems like a guy who has the moral compass to save a girl being attacked, a girl he probably didn’t like much at the time, is not the kind of guy who would key someone’s car over a few calls to the building manager.”
“But if it wasn’t him, who could it have been?”
Sara sat up and finished the wine in her glass. She looked uncomfortable and I wasn’t quite sure why. But I got the impression it had everything to do with the damage to my car.
“Do you know something?”
She glanced at me. “Not specifically.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means…hell, Sloane, it means that I know someone who might have been deeply hurt by you going out with that Ryan guy. And if I know you, you bragged about it to him.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Kyle.” She shook her head as she turned to me again. “You’ve always had this blind spot when it comes to Kyle, even in high school.”
“Kyle and I are friends.”
“You and Kyle are just friends. For Kyle, it’s not really that cut and dry.”
And now I was completely confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Kyle’s in love with you, Sloane. He has been since freshman year.”
“No,” I said, as though denying it would make it true. “We’re just friends.”
“He’s in love with you. And when you slept with him on graduation night, you just poured oil on the fire. Don’t you see that?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I got up and went back to the kitchen, pouring more wine into my glass. It just didn’t make sense to me. Kyle and I talked about that night for months before we did anything. We both agreed that it was just a one-time thing, just two friends doing each other a favor. It didn’t mean anything beyond that we were best friends and we would do anything for each other. This was why I chose him. Because I knew there would be no emotional mess afterward. And there wasn’t. We hung out with each other all summer just like we’d done before. Nothing changed.
At least, that’s what I thought.
“He used to call me late at night and cry on my shoulder over you. I kept telling him to tell you the truth, but he was too afraid. He didn’t want to screw up your friendship. But he’s always loved you.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Because it wasn’t my place.”
I groaned, feeling almost as though I was arguing with my mom over my dad again.
Why don’t you tell him what he does to you when he cuts you off like this?
Because it would just make him feel guilty.
So I’ll do it.
It’s not your place, Sloane. It’s mine.
I brushed past Sloane and grabbed my purse.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to talk to him.”
“Then I guess you need a ride.”
Kyle lives in a small house in Sugar Land, southwest of downtown Houston. I didn’t bother to call first. I wanted him to be caught by surprise.
Sara pulled into the driveway and he came to the door, his tall, lanky shadow so familiar that it almost hurt to look at it. It wasn’t possible, was it?
“Hey,” he said, a surprised smile sliding over his familiar features. “What are you two doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.”
The smile immediately disappeared. He glanced over at Sara, but she was still in the car, pretending to not be hanging on every word. Then his soft brown eyes fell on me again.
“What’s going on?”
“Did you key my car?”
He didn’t have to say a word. I saw it on his face, saw it dancing in the shadows of his eyes. I don’t know why I’d never seen it before. It was all there now, so clear, as though written out in plain language on the pages of a car. It made my stomach twist into knots for so many reasons I couldn’t even begin to sort them all out.
“Hell!” I muttered under my breath.
“I’m sorry, Sloane,” he said quickly. “I went out drinking that night and I wasn’t thinking straight.”
I waved his apology away like I was swatting a fly. “No, I’m sorry.”
He frowned, his eyes darkening. “What?”
“I’m sorry. I should have seen it, should have known how you felt about me. I can’t believe I didn’t.” I crossed my arms over my chest, the pain in my belly only growing. “All these years, talking to you about Philip and all the ot
her guys I had crushes on. It was cruel.”
“No. We were friends. That’s what friends do.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
He glanced over at Sara still sitting in her car, a hurricane of emotion sifting through his eyes.
“I didn’t want to change things. I didn’t want you to filter yourself.”
“I would have. For you.”
“I know.”
I studied his face for a long minute, finally putting a name on the pain that was twisting my stomach. It was grief. It was the realization that this friendship that I’d counted on for so long was never what I thought it was. And now it was over. It would never be the same no matter what he said or what I did. I’d just lost my best friend and that hurt.
“I’m sorry,” I said again.
“Sloane, nothing has to change. I’m still your friend.”
“But you’re not. Don’t you see that?” I looked at him through a thin veil of tears. “You’re just a boy who thought he was in love with me. And I’m a girl who will never feel that way about you. That’s not friendship. That’s just a lot of lies that we told each other and we told ourselves. Nothing more.”
“Sloane…”
“You let me treat you exactly how my dad’s been treating my mom all these years. You knew how I felt about that, and you let me do it to you.”
“That was my choice.”
“Yeah, well, now it’s mine. And I chose not to do it anymore.”
I walked away, back to the passenger side of the car, and thankfully, he didn’t try to follow.
Chapter 17
Major
She ignored me. Just completely ignored me except to politely introduce me to her friend. As though nothing had happened between us.
I paced my apartment, unable to get those thoughts out of my head.
How was it possible that a girl could get so completely under my skin so quickly? It’d been two weeks. She lived here two weeks and she was already driving me crazy.
When I saw her standing there in the lobby, wearing that tight little skirt and that dark jacket, I wanted to grab her and drag her up the stairs. Take her into my bed and show her what I thought about the silent treatment she’d given me these last five days. If she’d been alone, I might have done exactly that.
I kept telling myself it didn’t matter. She didn’t come knocking Sunday morning like I thought she would. I had a speech all planned, all the things I wanted to say to her about what had happened and what I would like to see happen. But she didn’t knock. She didn’t knock Monday, either. By Tuesday, I forgot what I’d intended to say. By then I was just pissed.
I kept expecting to run into her, but I was still caught off guard to see her standing there in the lobby. And the way she looked at me, as if I’d done something to hurt her. That was what really got me. Looking at me like I wasn’t the one sitting around waiting for her.
It was so fucked up.
I went into the kitchen to find a bottle of something. I left the bourbon at her place and hadn’t gotten around to replacing it. There was a bottle of scotch stuck behind an old box of crackers. I poured a healthy slug and drank it in one swallow.
Jack had called. He wanted to go out that night. For the first time in months, he had a free evening where he didn’t have to sneak out or go back to the office after a quick bite. And I told him no. But now I was wishing I hadn’t.
I poured another drink, but before I could take a sip, someone knocked at the door. Must be Jack. He threatened to come by even though I told him not to bother. But it wouldn’t be the first time Jack had done something I told him not to.
I jerked the door open, ready to tell Jack exactly what I thought of him, too. But the words died on my tongue.
Sloane stood there, a new bottle of bourbon in her hand.
“I, uh… I wanted to apologize,” she said.
She stared at me through big, beautiful eyes that were rounded with anxiety. She looked as though she expected me to slam the door in her face. It was almost satisfying to see.
I leaned against the door frame and crossed my arms over my chest to wait for whatever she had to say. I knew it was going to be good because I could see from the way she kept moving the booze bottle from hand to hand that she had a speech prepared.
“I found out today that you weren’t the one who keyed my car. And I realized that I shouldn’t have assumed it was you in the first place. I was judging you, and that was completely unfair.”
I could have put her at ease by saying something there. But I didn’t. I just kept watching her, enjoying her discomfort. It made up in some small way for the way I’d been feeling the past few days.
“And I’m sorry I told the police that I thought it was you. I’m sorry they came here and talked to you. That was just wrong.”
She kind of rolled back on her heels, the bottle again moving from one hand to the other and then back again. She stared down at the floor for a moment, then her eyes slowly came up to mine.
“You did a kind thing for me the other night despite everything. I should have known then. I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out.”
She stood still for a second, her eyes landing on mine for the first time. But I guess when I didn’t do anything, she came to some conclusion in that messed up little head of hers. She thrust the bottle at me and turned to leave.
I grabbed her wrist and pulled her into me, capturing her lips as a sigh of surprise tried to leave them. She tasted like wine and lip gloss and something sweet that was just Sloane. Something I couldn’t get enough of.
I pressed her up against the wall and kicked the door shut, my hands moving over her jaw, into her hair, then down along the curves of her body. She was still wearing her work clothes, that impossibly short skirt and a white blouse that crisscrossed the front of her body making her breasts look impossibly soft and round. It didn’t take much to get my hand under that skirt, to slide it up over the back of her thigh to the bottom curve of that fine ass. She sighed again, her arms coming around my neck as I lifted her up. I’d thought about this for so long, wanted this for so long, that it felt like we’d been here too long already. I pulled her legs around my waist and turned, slipping the bottle out of her hand as we passed the kitchen, leaving it on the bar before proceeding to the bedroom.
We fell onto the bed, clothes flying before I even realized she pulled my t-shirt over my head, before she could object to her skirt slipping from her hips. Her blouse just fell open with the tug of a string, those perfect breasts barely hidden under the thin material of one of those push up bras. But that was gone, too, with just a yank at the clasp in the back. And then she was pulling me toward her, her hands doing crazy things to my equilibrium as she slid them down along the lower half of my belly.
I reached for the nightstand out of habit, tugging a condom from the package without consciously thinking about it. She wanted to help, wanted to hold my cock in her perfect little hands. But just the thought of her touching me was enough to make me lose all control. I don’t remember if I got it on, how I could’ve managed to get my jeans out of the way quick enough, but I knew the moment I slid inside of her that I was never going to want another woman quite the way I wanted her.
I’m telling you, this was insane. How could this woman have me so wrapped around her finger already? But I couldn’t deny it. There was just something about her, something about the way it felt when she looked at me, the way it felt when she touched me.
I kissed her, slowly, savoring the taste of her, the feel of her silky soft lips against mine. I breathed in the air coming from her lungs, gave it back to her as I exhaled against her lips. And we moved together in a rhythm that was just ours, perfect for just us. And when the need got to be too much, when she reached that peak, I watched her fall… and then I went tumbling right after her.
Insane.
Chapter 18
Sloane
“What’s this one for?”
Major looked down at the tattoo I was pointing at on his lower stomach.
“It’s the Chinese symbol for strength.”
“Are you sure? I’ve heard some people get Chinese symbols tattooed on them only to find out years later that it means something completely different from what they thought it was.”
“I’m sure. I have a friend from China who verified it for me.”
“Smart.” I pressed my lips to the center of his lips before moving my finger up along his ribs, letting it come to rest at the next tattoo. “And this?”
I felt the tension come into his shoulders as he glanced at the tattoo I was pointing to.
“The initials of a friend,” he said in a low, tight voice.
“And this one?” I asked, quickly moving on to the last tattoo, a heart on the left side of his chest, right above his own heart.
He didn’t answer me right away. I thought I should let it go, so I lay back, snuggling against his side. But then he did answer.
“It used to have a girl’s name in it.”
“Someone you cared about?”
“I was going to marry her.”
That was more than I’d expected. I figured it had a girl’s name in it the first time I saw it, but I guess I just didn’t let myself think about it. Now, though, I wished I hadn’t asked.
“She was his sister.”
I didn’t know what he meant until his finger brushed the initials he’d told me belonged to a friend.
“We were in boot camp together. He used to show a picture of his sister around. All the guys wanted to write letters to her, but he only allowed a few of us. And she responded only to my letters.” He ran his hand slowly down my back. “When we got liberty at the end of boot camp, she and I had dinner. We hit it off and we kept writing while her brother, Jack, and I were at dive school. We spent leave together before I left for my first tour. She made me promise I would watch over her brother, and I said I would.”
He seemed lost even as he continued to run his hand over my back, like he knew I was there, but wasn’t really conscious of it. It was like he wasn’t really there with me, but back wherever his memories were taking him.