by J. A. Little
Her free hand reaches up and brushes against my jaw.
“You’re a good man, Dean. If you weren’t, I wouldn’t care about you so much.”
I don’t know how to feel about her admission. Part of me is relieved, and part of me is terrified.
“I’m way too fucking damaged, Kayla. I’ve got nothing to offer. I’m an emotionally stunted asshole. I’ve hurt too many people. I don’t deserve happiness, and I certainly can’t offer you any. You need more.”
She huffs out a sort of muted laugh. “I’m a grown woman. Let me decide what I need, okay?”
I lift our hands to my mouth and kiss her palm without breaking eye contact. I hold it there for a moment until she sits back onto the coffee table, and then I let her hand slide from mine.
“Is that how you ended up in juvenile detention?”
“Yeah,” I respond. “I was charged with three counts of vehicular homicide, but because I was only sixteen, it was taken care of in family court. I was sentenced to detention until my eighteenth birthday, and then to three years of probation.”
“But when you got arrested for the drugs…”
“I broke probation. It was an automatic sentence.”
“And your wife knew that?”
I nod. “Yeah, but she had a similar deal with her probation. I needed to do something good. I thought that protecting her and the baby was part of my penance.”
Kayla now knows more about me than anyone else. I’ve never even told Aiden about those moments in the car when I watched Nadia dying; when I thought I was dying, too. It’s not that I don’t trust him, but I don’t make a habit out of feeling vulnerable. For Kayla and I to ever become more than friends, she needs to know what she’s dealing with. Only time will tell if she can handle my demons, because, like it or not, we come as a package deal.
There are no more words between us; no more questions asked. She starts making up the guest bed, clearly inviting me to stay the night. I don’t know if I should. Park of me really wants to. The other part isn’t sure this is a good idea. I don’t know what’s going on between us. I’m afraid of sending out a message before I know exactly what kind I want to send out. And on top of that, I usually have episodes when I think about that night. I don’t want her to see me like that; screaming and crying like a child.
“Are you okay?” she asks softly.
“I’m fine,” I answer. She looks so concerned, I don’t have the heart to leave. I guess the guest room isn’t really sending out too much of a message.
“Do you need some sweats or something? I can go get a pair of Andy’s.”
I shake my head. I am not wearing some other dude’s pants.
“Okay, well, good night.” She steps close, kissing me on the cheek. I love the feel of her soft skin against my coarse scruff. Closing my eyes, I manage a to mumble out a “night.” And then she leaves.
I lie there half the night, staring up at the ceiling. Thoughts are racing through my mind at a million miles per hour. I don’t want to think. But I really don’t want to dream, either.
Eventually, exhaustion takes over. My eyes close and refuse to open again. I drift in and out. In my nightmare, I feel the usual fear, but something’s different. Instead of Nadia’s screams, I hear Kayla’s voice, soothing away the pain. I feel her touch and smell her scent. And when the dream runs its course, I don’t wake in a cold sweat. I don’t wake at all.
In the morning, I climb out of bed and throw on my T-shirt. I find Kayla in the kitchen with coffee and slightly burnt strawberry Pop-Tarts. She obviously bought them for me. It makes me smile. She makes me smile. For the first time, I let myself wonder if my brother is right. Maybe it’s time I finally let someone in.
Chapter 31
Dean
A couple of days later, Kayla shows up at my apartment with a pizza and a six-pack. She’s been on my mind constantly. I feel like a fucking girl with the intense sway of emotions I’ve been dealing with. One minute I’m flying high, thinking maybe I can do this relationship thing, but the next I plummet into self-pity, convinced that there’s no way I could—or should—pursue her.
Regardless, I love that she’s here—though I hate that she came into this neighborhood by herself. I know she’s seen worse, but it still makes me nervous.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was hungry. Thought you might be, too. Hi, by the way. Nice to see you.”
“Jesus Christ, woman,” I say, taking the pizza from her as she enters.
“What?” she asks, following me into the kitchen.
“Can you at least call next time? This is not a good neighborhood. You need to at least let me know when you’re coming so I can meet you downstairs.”
“Fine,” she says, setting the beer on the counter. “I promise that from now on, I will tell you when I’m coming.”
“Thank you.” It takes me a split-second to see the twinkle in her eye. I grit my teeth as she smiles coyly at me. This woman and her innuendos. I’m pretty sure she has a dirtier mind than I do, which is pretty impressive. I’ve spent the last couple weeks whacking off to thoughts of her in different positions. I have to turn around to hide my growing affection when one particular fantasy flashes through my mind. I grab plates out of the cabinet, trying to push away the images, but it doesn’t work. All the little voice in my head keeps saying is “She wants me. She wouldn’t deny me.”
“So, Emily says your mom and dad go all out for the gala.” Problem solved. Mom, Dad, and my brother’s wife in one sentence? Boner killer.
“Yeah,” I answer, setting the plates down next to the pizza box. “My mom likes to coordinate events. This is the Spring Gala. She calls the one at Christmas the Holiday Charity Ball. Those are the only two I’m required to attend.”
Kayla grins at me. “I bet you love it, don’t you? You know, Warren has some kick-ass tuxes. I’m sure he’d love to dress you. Although he might insist on taking you as his date. Never mind, then.”
I chuckle. “Didn’t you say he was dressing you?”
“Yeah,” she says, nodding.
“Then why isn’t he making you go as his date?”
“Because I won’t sleep with him.” I toss a couple of slices onto each plate and raise my eyebrows at her. “Not that you would either,” she laughs, letting out a little snort. “Would you?”
I leave the beer and pizza and take a step toward her. She takes a step back.
“Ask that question again, Kayla.”
“Which one? The one about loving these formal occasions or the one about you sleeping with—”
She doesn’t even get the sentence out before I attack. She tries to jump away, but my reflexes are too fast. I grab her and hold on, reaching back for one of the cold bottles of beer.
“No, no, no, no, no! I was just kidding, Dean. Please don’t. Please don’t.” She squeals and convulses as I slip the bottle under her shirt and press it against her bare stomach. When I let her go, she catapults herself across the room. “You jerk! That was cold,” she yells.
“I know,” I laugh. Returning to our dinner, I take an overexaggerated bite. Then I pop the top off the bottle of beer I just used against her and take a swig. She scowls at me, but it doesn’t last long. “I thought you said you were hungry?” I smirk, pushing a plate her way.
“I am, but I’m afraid to get near you right now.”
I bark out a laugh. “Oh, come on, sweetheart. I’m harmless.” I open a bottle of beer for her. “Here’s my white flag.” I grin.
“Mmhmm.” She grabs her plate and beer and turns, heading toward my couch. I watch her ass as she walks away. She’s wearing a pair of really tight white jeans. It’s a spectacular view.
Kayla sets her food down on the table and walks over to my bookshelf, which doesn’t actually hold books, but all my DVDs. She runs her fingers over the spines. There has to be a couple hundred of them, and I think she’s actually reading the title of every single one. When she reaches the end, she loo
ks confused.
“Are these all the DVDs you have?”
“Yeah, why?” I ask before taking another bite.
“Why don’t you have any porn?”
I choke on the bite of pizza I’m trying to swallow. “Uh…what?”
“Porn, Dean. You’re a single, healthy male. Why don’t you have any porn?”
“Y—you…wanna watch porn?” I stutter. I really can’t wrap my mind around this woman.
She shakes her head and smiles. “I was just noticing.”
“Porn’s not usually the kind of thing I keep with my regular collection,” I explain, still trying to figure out how our conversation ended up here. “You know, where my parents can see it and all.”
Kayla looks around. “Somehow I can’t picture your parents here.” She’s right—my parents have only been to my apartment twice. Both times were unannounced. “So you do have porn then?”
“Are you really challenging my manhood for the second time tonight?” I question, feigning insult.
She shakes her head and giggles. “No, I trust you.”
“Good. Because it’s easily accessible online these days. There’s no need for a hardcopy.”
“Really?”
“You didn’t know that?”
“I do now. Thanks,” she teases, grinning cheekily and producing The Hangover from behind her back. “How about this one?”
The rest of the night, we hang out, watching the movie and drinking beer. After a bit, Kayla gets cold, so I cover her with a fleece blanket. She digs her toes under my thigh. I have to admit, it’s nice having someone around to break up the monotony of my solitary life. It’s nice having Kayla around to break up the monotony of my solitary life.
She knows about my past now, but isn’t treating me any differently. She isn’t handling me with kid gloves. Maybe Aiden’s suggestion that Kayla might understand better than most was right from the very beginning. She’s not some innocent girl who wants to save me, and she’s not looking for a cheap thrill with a bad boy. She’s a woman who’s seen the worst in people and still found a way to forgive them, help them, and accept who they are.
“Why are you staring at me?” she asks.
“Huh?”
“Do I have something on my face?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Ooookay.” She turns her head back toward the television, but shifts her eyes to look at me again. I slug down the rest of my beer and go back to watching the movie. By the time they find the missing groom on the rooftop of the hotel, Kayla is really fidgety.
“You okay over there?” I ask.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” she assures. I’m not sure I believe her, though. She’s acting a little odd. After a couple of minutes, I feel her feet slip out from under my thigh and a split-second later, she’s in my lap, straddling me.
“What are you doing?” I ask, a little shocked.
“I’m gonna kiss you.”
“You are?” I ask, smirking to hide my surprise. My dick twitches beneath her.
“Uh-huh. You gonna stop me this time?” She challenges. I put my hands on her hips, running them down her thighs before returning to just above her ass.
“I’m not gonna stop you.” I’m trying to play this off like I’m not nervous, but I am. It’s been a long time since I’ve actually kissed a woman. It’s just not something I do very often. Kissing feels a lot more intimate than fucking for some reason. But I really want to kiss Kayla.
“Good.” Her lips meet my cheek, just to the left of my mouth. Drawing her head back, she looks at me. “Missed,” she whispers. I narrow my eyes at her. When she comes back to me, it’s just to the right. “Whoops. I did it again.”
“Are you teasing me, sweetheart?” I ask. She smiles and leans in. I put my index finger against her mouth before she has the opportunity to play with me anymore. “I suggest you don’t miss this time.” Taking my finger away, I allow her to proceed. This time, she doesn’t disappoint.
For a few seconds, the kiss is chaste. Lip on lip and nothing more. She opens her mouth, an invitation to take it further if I want—and I definitely want. I push my tongue forward, meeting hers.
Kayla tilts her head, and I’m back where I’m supposed to be, completely infatuated with her tongue. My hands, which are still resting on her hips, grip and pull her into me. She moans into my mouth.
My hard-on has to be noticeable now. If it’s not, I’m about to make it noticeable. It’s a primal instinct to lift my hips, thrusting against her. She rocks against me in response.
As good as this all feels, the insecure thoughts begin to creep through my mind. What the fuck am I doing? She thinks she wants this, but she doesn’t. Getting involved with me would be a huge fucking mistake. And what if it’s weird when she has to be at Wyatt House to meet with Logan for his IL session tomorrow?
Kayla ends the kiss as my internal debate continues. Her hips stop moving, but her chest is heaving right in front of my face.
“Wow,” she sighs.
My rock-solid dick is still pressed against her. I’m trying not to move. Should I look her in the eyes? I’m staring at her tits at the moment. They’re gorgeous, and I can only imagine what they look like without all the layers of clothing, but I suppose I’m being rude. I lift my gaze to meet hers.
“You still haven’t let go, have you?”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry,” I groan. “I’m trying. This isn’t easy for me.”
She nods, but I don’t know if it’s in understanding or defeat. She’s turned away from me, and I can’t read her face. I get a hint when she climbs off my lap. I don’t want her to go, but I don’t know what to say to make her stay.
I really don’t know how to do this. I never had a girlfriend before Steph, and we went straight from first kiss to first blowjob to first fuck within an hour. When you don’t have a lot of unsupervised time, you condense. After the divorce, I always went from meeting to the main event. Whatever it is Kayla and I are doing, it’s completely foreign to me, and I feel like an inexperienced teenager.
She sits close to me for the rest of the movie, but doesn’t touch me. I can see her worrying her thumbnail out of the corner of my eye. I feel like shit. I keep encouraging her, but then I can’t seem to get out of my own head. I want her, but I don’t think I deserve her. Sometimes I think maybe I can be good enough, and other times I’m just plain fucking terrified that no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be able to offer her any sort of normal relationship. The back and forth is taking its toll, and my head begins to throb.
We sit until the credits are finished rolling, and then Kayla stands up. She stretches her arms above her head, letting out a long sigh-groan. Her shirt creeps up, exposing a sliver of navel. What the fuck is wrong with me? I have a gorgeous, sexy, intelligent, compassionate woman in front of me offering me everything, and I’m too fucking scared to take it.
“I have to be at work early in the morning to get a couple of things done before court. I’ll see you in the afternoon?”
“I think so. Simon’s taking the weekend, so he’s got the next few days off. Aiden and Em have the morning shift, but I’ll be in when she has to leave to pick up their kids from school.” I’m babbling. Kayla knows something’s wrong—I can see it in her eyes.
“Thanks for dinner,” I mumble.
Kayla puts on her coat and boots. I put on mine, too, so I can walk her down.
“You don’t have to,” she protests.
“Yes, I do.”
She rolls her eyes, but I think she appreciates my company when we pass a couple of older teenagers smoking weed and drinking in the stairwell. They make crude comments under their breath, and Kayla curls into my side a little, but they stop when I give them the I’m-gonna-fuck-you-up look.
“Next time?” I ask, knowing she’ll catch my drift.
“I’ll call to let you know I’m on my way,” she acquiesces. There’s a difference between being brave and being stupid. I don’t want
her to take any unnecessary risks.
Getting to her car, she digs for her keys, unlocking and opening the door. I don’t want to leave it like this, but I just stand there as she gets into her car and drives away. I’m such a fucking wuss.
* * *
When I wake up in the morning, I don’t want to get out of bed. I can’t get Kayla out of my head. All night, I smelled her hair, felt her tongue, heard her whimpers and moans. If I thought my fantasies of her were intense before, having a real life soundtrack in my head makes them so much more.
I finally climb out of bed and mess around for a few hours before heading into work. When I get to Wyatt House around two, Emily looks pissed.
“What’s up?”
“Simon left me with a mess to clean up this morning,” she growls.
“What mess?”
“I don’t know what happened, but he got into an argument with Brayden and Logan at breakfast, and then they got into a fight with each other. Now we have two almost-men acting like ten-year-olds upstairs. They refused to go to school and have been throwing shit and yelling profanities at each other all day long. Simon just took his ass home without any sort of explanation.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“To do what? Aiden’s been here all day. He’s broken up two physical fights. They’re both on restriction until Friday, and if I hear one more nasty word coming from either of them, they’re done for the weekend, too.” Emily lets out a huff. “Pains in my ass,” she grumbles.
“Where’s Aiden?” I ask as she walks away.
“In the kitchen with Bill trying to fix the garbage disposal. I’m leaving to pick up my children.”
I don’t mean to laugh, but I do. Emily has the patience of a saint, so knowing that she still has moments of being completely fed up is reassuring.
“And the boys’ toilet’s clogged again, too. I’m not touching it,” she yells as the front door shuts behind her.
Walking back to the kitchen, I find Bill and Aiden sitting at the table drinking coffee.
“I thought the garbage disposal was broken?”