by Ruby Molloy
The black haired woman does a double take. “Are you crazy―”
Boyd overrides her. “I’m a dick, Kayla?”
“Yeah, you’re a dick! What the hell are you doing? Talking to her, letting her fingers crawl all over you. You think I was just going to let you two carry on until you disappeared out the back?”
“You think I’d do that?”
I lean towards him and shout. “Her hands were all over you!”
“Answer the question, Kayla. You think I’d do that?”
It doesn’t matter. He let her touch him, knowing I could see what was going on. “You know what? Fuck you, Boyd!” I turn away, pushing through the crowd, ignoring Frankie when she calls my name. It’s been a disaster of a night and I don’t care that it’s almost Christmas and I should be thinking about peace on earth and goodwill to all men.
“Kayla!”
I push open the door, almost colliding with a hot ginger-haired guy.
He smiles, looks me up and down as if he likes what he sees, and goes to walk inside. Only Boyd’s coming out and the ginger-haired guy has to step back once again.
Boyd takes my hand and leads me down the side of the building. Actually, it’s more like tugging than leading. I don’t want to go, but his grip is solid and he’s not letting up. It’s quiet in the alley, though not totally private with plenty of people walking by on the main street.
We play tug of war with my hand for a while and when he doesn’t release me I scream and stamp my foot. “Let me go!”
“Quiet.”
“What, are you scared I’ll cause a scene?” I scream again, louder this time. Boyd watches on, a grin lighting up his face as if I’m being funny. The scream dies in my throat. “You think it’s funny, flirting with another woman right in front of me? You think you’d feel the same way if you had to watch me flirting with some guy?” I don’t give him time to answer. “You know what? Let’s find out, shall we?” I take a step towards the street. One lousy step, that’s all it takes for his arms to snap out and for him to trap me against the wall.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he says. His mouth’s a taut line, grin forgotten. “Not unless you’re happy for me to knock some guy’s teeth out just so you can prove a point.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try it.”
I might be hurting, but I sure as hell don’t want an innocent guy to lose his front teeth. I’m done. I want to head home. Not our home, but my home. To the bed I left months ago in the empty apartment where nobody lives because Frankie now lives with Mason and I live with Boyd. Lived.
Past tense.
“I think I hate you.”
Boyd’s expression softens again and I don’t understand. Am I missing something here?
“You’re going to hate me even more in a second,” he says.
“I am?”
“Uh-huh.”
His mouth comes down on mine, light before the pressure increases and his tongue slides into my mouth. Damn. What’s the matter with me? I’m letting him kiss me.
He raises his head and draws his thumb across my bottom lip. “That woman in the bar, she meant nothing.”
“You let her touch you.”
“Yeah, I did. And right now she’s probably fondling some other guy.”
“Jesus, are you dumb? You let her touch you!”
His brows pinch together and his lashes come down, masking his eyes when he says, “I wanted you back.”
“Uh, I was right there, talking with Frankie, not ten feet away from you.”
“You’ve been gone for months, Kayla. The old you would have flipped in no time.”
“I think I just did that.”
“Thirty fucking minutes. Was a time you’d have been in my face after two.”
I don’t want to hear this. I shove at his chest and when he doesn’t move I glare up at him. “Could you step back?”
“Can’t,” he says. “If I do you’ll run.” I shake my head, but he’s still watching, eyes way too observant. “I want you back, Kayla. I want the girl who shouts when things don’t go her way. I want the girl who curses in Spanish when she stubs her toe or drops a glass. I want to know when I’ve pissed you off.”
“That’s not me anymore.” I say.
“It used to be. Got a slashed sofa to prove it. I want you back. Please, Boots, give her back to me.” I’ve never heard him speak like this before, like he’s pleading, ready to beg ...
“I can’t,” I say, staring at my Converses, feeling like I’m a breath away from bawling. “I promised.”
“What?” He latches onto that, bending his knees so he can search my face. “Promised who?”
I stare at the cigarette butts and the empty wrappers blown in from the street. “God,” I say. “Myself. That day ... I thought I’d never see you again and I knew if I died you’d be thinking about us, regretting it, and it hurt so much ... I promised I’d never argue with you again if only ...”
His hands lay flat against the brickwork, face too pale, eyes fierce. “If only what, Kayla?”
“I only I could have you back.”
“That’s what this has been about?” Stunned, he pushes a hand through my hair, holding my head high so he can see my eyes.
I make a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob and lift a hand to cover my mouth. “You have no idea, Boyd ... How difficult it’s been, biting my tongue, trying to think happy thoughts when you left your mess everywhere and ate my secret stash of chocolate bars.”
“Babe, I can pick up my own mess―” he says, as if it’s that simple.
I can’t let that pass. I glare at him through watery eyes. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”
He grins and I don’t know if it’s because my eyes are blurry with unshed tears, but his eyes look kind of blurry too. “I thought the chocolate bars were fair game,” he says.
“Uh-uh, Boyd. Those bars were mine.” I wipe my eyes and sniffle. “Is it true? Were you really only flirting with her to get a reaction out of me?”
His grin subsides. “I saw you watching. I’d lost you anyway and I thought why not take a chance?”
My mouth hangs open. “You were willing to lose me?”
His grin drops and his green eyes dim. “Fuck, no, Boots. Never gonna let that happen. Just don’t pull that shit again, okay? Scared the fuck out of me, you being so agreeable all the time.”
I assume an innocent expression and blink. “You don’t like it when I’m nice?”
“I like you all kind of ways, but nice ain’t one of them, not when you’re feeling something else inside. I just want you to be yourself, that’s all.” His mouth comes down on mine, warm and gentle, his tongue sliding inside, teasing me with his taste. “Come on. Let’s get back inside before we end up giving someone a show they didn’t plan on seeing.”
He takes my hand and leads me back into the bar.
He’s right about the raven haired beauty. Her hand’s already on some other guy’s arm.
Later, when Boyd’s talking to Mason, Tag comes over and asks, “You two okay?”
“We are now. Boyd was trying to get a point across the way only he can.”
Tag grins. “Yeah, I saw that. He might have been looking at her, but his attention was on you.”
I gaze up at sharp blue eyes. “It was?”
“Yeah. Guess he likes playing with fire.”
I pretend to be offended. “What are you trying to say, Tag? You think I’m hot headed?” I lean in closer and ask, “More so than Hailey?”
Tag scowls and checks that Boyd isn’t within hearing distance.
“When are you going to tell him, Tag?”
“Not yet,” he says, blue eyes hard and stubborn.
“But soon, yeah?”
“Maybe.”
“I hope you realise what you’re risking. Boyd’s going to go ape shit when he finds out.”
“Saw Molly today,” he says, deliberately changing the subject. “She’s ho
ping to be out in a week or two. Says she’ll stay with her parents until she’s well enough to return home. She asked me to tell you she’s sorry ...” He trails off when someone steps between us to get to the bar. “I thought you should know,” he says.
“Thanks, Tag. I’m glad she’s doing okay. Have you told Boyd?”
“He knows,” Tag says. “He asks about her now and again. Wants to know she’s doing okay.”
I glance over to where Boyd’s talking with Frankie and Mason. He catches my eye, his instantly warming. “Tell him, Tag. Before it’s too late.”
Tag shakes his head. “Can’t. You don’t know the full story. He ever finds out, I’ll be dead to him. Mace too.”
“Tag―”
“Gotta go,” he says, walking away.
I’m watching him leave when Boyd’s arm comes around my waist from behind. “What’s up with Tag?”
“He, uh, he had to go. Something about a call.”
“Probably hooking up with Dizzy.”
“Yeah, probably,” I say.
*****
“Harder.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Give it to me.”
Boyd rides me hard, his fingers between my thighs hitting the spot. When I come, I have to bite down the scream.
He flexes his hips one last time and groans against my neck, his breath dampening my skin. He collapses against me and rolls to his back with me on top, his hand coming to rest on my buttock. “Fuck, that was good.”
“Uh-hmm.”
He tugs at my hair and I raise my head just far enough that he’s able to see my expression. A satisfied grin spreads across his face and he lets me rest my head on his chest once more. “Guess you enjoyed that, huh?”
“Uh-hmm.”
“Thirty minutes and then we go again.”
“Boyd, I’m done. Ain’t no more orgasms coming my way tonight.”
“That’s what you said the other night.”
“Yeah, but tonight it’s true, trust me.”
His fingers skate over of my skin. “You want to go to the coast tomorrow? Maybe down to Morton?”
“It’ll be freezing ...”
“We’ll wrap up, find a place to eat, maybe take a stroll on the pier.”
I lift my head and gaze down at him. “That’s what you wanna do?” I ask.
He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear and says, “Yeah, that’s what I wanna do.”
“Okay,” I say, easily.
He frowns. “You sure? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Maybe he thinks I’m reverting back to amiable Kayla.
“Boyd, I want to, honest.”
He nods, still unsure.
“Relax,” I say. “She’s gone for good.”
He searches my eyes, finds me, and draws my head down for a kiss. It’s sweet and perfect, and when I lay my head back down upon his chest he breathes easy.
THE END