Because of Kian

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Because of Kian Page 6

by Sibylla Matilde


  “Sage…” I warned, “I may have fucked that up a little.”

  “Now, see? She thinks she did,” Sage said with an exasperated sigh. “And, honestly, she’s a bit messed up over it. I told her to talk to you, but she feels all awkward and stuff. She said she acted like an idiot, throwing herself at you when you so obviously didn’t want her that way.”

  “Who the fuck said that?”

  “Well, Kian,” Sage grumbled with her arms crossed, “you did. You said it shouldn’t have happened. You said you regretted it.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.” My exasperation was starting to make me growl.

  “Well, she heard it that way pretty clearly.”

  “It was fucking incredible. She’s just been through a lot of shit lately.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know a lot about it, but she did tell me how you met.”

  “That fucker. Just thinking about it pisses me off all over again,” I growled. “But, I’m just not sure that I’d be good for her. Especially after him.”

  Especially the way I wanted her.

  “Do you want her, Kian?”

  Fuck yeah, I wanted her. Like nothing I’d ever known.

  But, I also had to be careful. Brynn was flighty as hell, and I didn’t want to scare her away more than I already had. At the same time, though, the way I wanted her… Would she really want me back? If she knew?

  I took a deep breath and released it thoughtfully. “How much of this are you going to share with your boyfriend?”

  Sage laughed. “Are you worried that you’re gonna get some payback for all the times you’ve called him whipped?”

  Not the real reason, but it would do for this conversation. I gave a wry smile and nodded. “A little.”

  “You’re secret is safe with me.”

  “Fuck yeah, I want her,” I said as I looked Sage square in the eye.

  Her smile grew as she grabbed a bar napkin. She scribbled something down on it, then handed it to me. “Here’s her address. Make her talk to you.”

  And here I was.

  But Brynn wasn’t answering her door, and this wasn’t exactly the kind of thing I could shout through a wall. So, anyway, I’m sorry I was rude and inconsiderate after you fucked me stupid on the floor of my gym. Probably wouldn’t go over real well with the neighbors.

  I pounded again at the heavy door to her small apartment.

  And I heard nothing in response.

  “Brynn!” I shouted through the door. “It’s Kian… are you there?”

  Listening softly, I finally heard slight shuffling footsteps come to the door followed by a few clicks of her lock, and then the door opened. I braced myself to see a resentful fire lighting her eyes. I prepared myself to feel the guilt for what I’d said at the gym. For letting it fester this long, for thinking she just needed time. For not forcing her to look at me and talk to me that day in the salon.

  But, instead of sad or mad Brynn, the door was opened by obviously-not-feeling-well Brynn. Standing in the doorway with puffy eyes in a set of plaid flannel pajamas. Her hair was pulled up in a messy top knot, and her cheeks were flushed. Fevered.

  She wasn’t hurt or angry or dejected.

  She was sick.

  “Kian, what on earth are you doing here?” she whispered with a raspy voice.

  “Jesus Christ, you look like hell. Are you okay?” The words once again left my mouth before I could stop them. Fuck. Not so smooth.

  The flicker of wonder in her eyes quickly switched to annoyance at my blundered outburst. “Fuck you,” she responded in a defeated tone and turned back into her living room, back to her couch.

  I felt a trickle of relief at her caustic reply. At least she wasn’t on death’s door if she could still cock one off at me like that.

  Looking around, her small apartment seemed rather bare, almost unlived in. No photos, no girly decorations like flowers and candles and little bowls of shit that smelled like berries. Not at all what I’d pictured her place to look like. It had all the personality of a mid-rate hotel room, unless you took into account the coffee table that was littered with Kleenex and cough drops.

  She flopped onto the overstuffed couch, pulling a soft chenille blanket over her. As she settled against a ruffled purple bed pillow, her feverish eyes narrowed at me. “So what’s up?” she asked hoarsely.

  “I stopped to see you at work and you weren’t there. I got worried.”

  “I just took a sick day.”

  “That lady you work for said you’ve been out all week.”

  “Um, okay… so I took a couple sick days. It’s only Thursday. I have a shitty cold and I didn’t want to share it. So what?” A confused look crossed over her face before she spoke again. “Wait a minute, how did you know where I live.”

  “Sage,” I admitted. “I was worried about you. It’s just, the last time you disappeared was when, well… Evan…” I trailed off.

  Her expression softened a bit and she raised her head. Apparently, she was beginning to realize that I wasn’t just being overly protective. Excessively stalkerish, maybe. But, she seemed to realize that I was genuinely concerned. She looked down a little before she softly spoke. “Not Evan,” she reassured me. “Just a cold. Fever and chills. I didn’t get the shit beat out of me. No worries.”

  I slumped into the recliner across from her couch, then leaned forward some to look at her sternly. “Well, now I’m worried for a whole new reason.” I noted an empty glass on the coffee table alongside a dirty bowl and spoon. “Do you need anything? Something to drink or eat?”

  “No, I’m okay,” she reassured me weakly, sinking back into the pillow. “And you probably shouldn’t be here. I don’t want to make you sick.”

  “Fuck that. Let me get you something. What were you drinking? Juice?” She knitted her brow and looked off to the side for a moment before casting her gaze back to meet mine. I regarded her suspiciously. “What is it?”

  She pursed her lips before answering. Funny how, even obviously sick, she was awfully fucking cute. “Nothing, I’m just trying to figure out how to answer without you feeling like you need to do something about it.”

  “Chances are, I’m gonna do something no matter what you say, so you may as well just tell me.”

  “I’m out of juice. I need to run to the store and was just trying to get the energy up to do it.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “Kian, I don’t need you to—”

  “Brynn,” I simply said, firmly and authoritatively, essentially ending the argument with a stern look in her direction. Her mouth snapped shut as I stood and headed for the door. “Is there anything else you need?” I asked, fishing my bike keys out of my pocket.

  Behind me I heard a raspy argument start up again. “I can just run later.”

  I glanced back at her momentarily before looking around the small apartment. Off to the side was a small alcove, what looked to be a little galley kitchen.

  A messy galley kitchen.

  I knew enough about Brynn to know that she wasn’t really a messy person. She folded the clothes in her gym bag and kept her shoes in a Ziploc bag, for Christ’s sake. So she must have really felt like shit to leave this sink full of pans and bowls.

  “How are you set for soup?” I called as I opened and closed a few cupboard doors to check her stocks. Brynn stayed quiet, no more arguing, but no more answers. Fine, I’d figure it out myself. I saw a can of ABC vegetable and some type of chowder in one cabinet, but that was about it for soup. On the counter were a bunch of empty cans of chicken noodle which sort of amused me. I picked up one of the cans and looked back out to Brynn on the couch.

  “Um, babe…? Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup? Really? Just how old are you? Five?”

  “I like it, so just fuck off,” she grumbled and turned towards the back of the couch.

  I couldn’t help but chuckle aloud at her pique as I mentally made a list of what she needed. Back out in the living room, I looked again at the coffee
table, taking note of the brands of cough drops, cold medicines, and tissues. Then, I leaned over her and brushed the hair back from her eyes. “Shit, baby. You’re awfully hot.” I rifled through the empty packages of cold meds. “When’s the last time you took something?”

  “I ran out last night,” she mumbled with a creak in her voice.

  “Okay, I’ll be back in a little bit,” I said as I softly pressed my lips against her warm brow.

  Her eyes flickered open. “You don’t have to do any of this, Kian. I’ll be fine. It’s just a stupid cold.”

  “I want to,” I replied as my fingers brushed her mussed hair back from her eyes. “So don’t argue with me anymore.”

  One more quick kiss to the forehead, and I left for the store.

  Brynn

  I lay there for a while after Kian left. God only knew how unbelievably horrid I looked. Not that it mattered. I’d already managed to freak him out with my ho-ish ways. Besides, he was way too good of a guy to get stuck with me and all my issues. The last thing I wanted was to get all wrapped up with any dude. Even Kian. Really. Even though he was fucking gorgeous and protective and strong and… just simply amazing.

  That said, it really did feel nice to have someone worry about me, as much as I hated to admit it to myself.

  With that thought floating through my brain, I dozed off for a bit. As crappy as I felt, there wasn’t much choice. I awoke to a cool, damp cloth caressing my flushed cheeks, gently sweeping over my eyes to rest on my forehead.

  “Brynn,” Kian’s voice softly cut through my haze enough to allow my eyes to open. “Here’s some cold meds. You’re burning up, and we’ve got to get your fever down.”

  I opened my eyes to see him holding a few tablets in front of me.

  “Open up, baby,” he ordered, and I feebly complied.

  Dropping the pills in my mouth, he lifted a bottle of ginger ale so I could take a sip. It felt incredibly cool and relieving on my parched throat, and my hand lifted to stay the bottle as he began to pull it away. After taking a long drink, I released it.

  “Thank you,” I whispered with my eyes half closed.

  I fought to keep them open, to see the gentle concern in his eyes as he turned to pick up the washcloth again. But one touch of the heavenly chill upon my heated skin, and I couldn’t do it. They fell closed with relief as he began to stroke my face and neck with the cool cloth. At one point, I even moaned with the sensation. If I’d have been in my right mind, I probably would have been mortified, but at that moment, I didn’t care.

  His fingers slipped apart the buttons on the front of my pajama shirt and I felt the coolness stroke lower, softly pulling the heat from my body. Down my chest, across my stomach. The fabric of my shirt only just covered my breasts, and I felt my nipples peak as the cool cloth swept over my bared skin. Soothing and erotic, even as awful as I felt, I could feel my body responding to his touch, and a slight gasp sprang forth from my throat. Hearing him chuckle lightly, I looked up at him through sleepy eyes.

  Kian still appeared somewhat worried. His brow was knitted and he had a stern look about him. Yet, there was a shadow of a smile that touched his lips. “You seem to like this. I’ll have to remember that when you’re feeling better.” He lifted his hand away and softly blew down over my abdomen causing my eyes to close with the sensation.

  He began to sweep the cloth over my skin again, up over my breastbone, across my shoulders, back up my cheeks and over my eyes, pausing intermittently to blow cool air over my body.

  I was in a heavenly hell. I was sick as a dog, yet somehow also horny as hell, which was a really crappy combination. Rather tortuous, actually. But I could have laid there forever.

  Finally, Kian lifted the cloth and pulled my pajama shirt back together, buttoning it partway, yet leaving it fairly open at the neck. His fingers smoothed the hair back from my temples and I slowly felt the world begin to slip away, lost in the comfort of his touch.

  “Get some sleep, baby,” he whispered softly.

  So I did.

  Like I had a choice.

  Brynn

  When I woke up, it was nearly dark. A faint light shown from my little kitchen, just enough to see that my little apartment was clean. The tissues and empty cold medicine packages were gone. All the dirty bowls from soup and the empty and half-empty glasses of juice had disappeared.

  And Kian was fast asleep in the recliner across from the couch, barely covered with fleece throw that was way too small for his stout frame.

  As I propped myself up on my elbows, I took stock of my physical state. For the first time in a few days, my throat didn’t feel like it was going to crack. My head wasn’t pounding. My joints didn’t ache. I felt far from well, but I certainly didn’t feel like I was dying anymore. Although I had to pee like a son-of-a-bitch.

  Quietly, I climbed off the couch and made my way to the bathroom. As I was washing my hands, I glanced up in the mirror. Oh my God, I looked atrocious. And I didn’t smell much better. And for some reason, it mattered.

  I shouldn’t have cared. I should have wanted to look like shit, to show Kian what a wreck I was, that he was so much better off without me in a ten-mile radius. He’d been worried when he’d showed up today… about me. He’d been thinking about me. He felt responsible for me and wanted to protect me. Just like Sage had told me way back before the incident in the gym. Just like he’d admitted as he taped my hands.

  He was really way too good for me. It was bad to want him, even a little. So, I knew I shouldn’t care. But I did, so I flipped on the shower and undressed, quickly tossing my stinky jammies in the hamper. The water felt amazing as it coursed over my skin, drawing away all the ick of being ill. I shampooed my hair twice and soaped myself in every nook and cranny. I scrubbed my skin with a loofah until it felt almost raw.

  Nothing like getting super clean after feeling super gross.

  For a long time, I simply stood in the heavy stream of water, feeling it beat down on my shoulders and neck. Almost lost in the sensation, I about jumped out of my skin when I heard Kian’s voice. Oh my God. In the room with me.

  “Brynn? You okay?” he asked.

  Fuck. I was naked and wet. I gingerly peeked around the curtain to see him sticking his head just inside the door.

  “Um, yeah. I just… um…” I was so very aware that I was so very naked. And, honestly, he looked amazingly fucking hot with his messy hair and sleepy eyes. “I just really needed a shower. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

  He nodded and slipped back out, closing the door behind him, so I finished up and got out of the shower. Drying off quickly, I slathered myself with lotion before pulling on a soft deep eggplant-colored chenille robe and pressed some of the water from my hair. Although it was quite fine in texture, there was a ton of it, and it seemed to take forever to dry. I combed it back from my face and brushed my teeth. Feeling halfway human again, I stepped out of the bathroom.

  The recliner was empty, so I peeked into the kitchen to see Kian standing at my stove stirring something in a small soup pan.

  “Chicken noodle okay?” he asked. “You haven’t eaten since I got here earlier today, so I’d imagine you’re a bit hungry.”

  “Ohhh… yeah, fine,” I nodded, a little astonished at my kitchen. It was spotless. I was generally pretty good at keeping my apartment clean, but I hated dishes to the point that I rarely ever cooked. With no dishwasher, I’d decided long ago that it was better to eat out of a paper wrapper than wash a plate. Since I’d been sick, though, I’d been eating a fair amount of soup and crackers. Drinking gallons of orange juice. Making dirty dishes that I’d even less desire than usual to wash. “You cleaned my kitchen…” I murmured in a little wonder.

  “Yeah,” he chuckled. “You’re awful cute, but you’re also kind of a slob.”

  “I’m not normally, but this cold…” I trailed off a little defensively.

  He pulled a bowl out of the cupboard and ladled some soup into it. “Go have a seat o
n the couch, and I’ll bring you some soup.”

  “Kian, I—”

  I barely got the sound out, though, before he turned to look at me, one brow lifted. My words caught in my throat as he stared me down. Finally, I nodded, whispered a quiet ‘okay’ and made my way back to the couch to allow him to wait on me.

  Kian spent the rest of the evening fussing over me, making sure I’d eaten enough chicken soup before feeding me grape popsicles he’d picked up at the store. He ensured that there was plenty of medicine in my system to keep the cold symptoms at bay. He rifled around through my linen closet until he found some fresh blankets and pillowcases and swapped out everything I’d been cuddled up with on the couch. It was getting rather late, so I figured he was planning to take off before long.

  Therefore, it surprised me when he sat beside me on the couch and pulled me up against him, grabbing the remote and aiming it at the television as he propped his feet up on the coffee table.

  He apparently had no plans to leave any time soon.

  But, somehow, it felt so natural to curl up against him, to rest my head on his shoulder and breathe him in. And to hide my eyes from time to time since he’d decided on watching The Walking Dead, and it was so nasty and gory.

  I abhorred horror flicks and scary shows.

  But sitting there tucked up against his side, even with a hellacious cold and watching a zombie apocalypse playing out before me, life suddenly seemed sort of… perfect.

  Kian

  Brynn’s eyes started drifting closed towards the end of the show. She wasn’t clutching my arm anymore or hiding her face in my shoulder.

  Dammit.

  I had been enjoying that.

  “Let’s get you in bed, Brynn,” I gruffly murmured, brushing my lips over her forehead. I had no desire to leave. Not so much because I was worried about her at this point. Her fever was gone, she’d eaten, and I had her well-stocked with just about every cold remedy I’d found at the store. But I didn’t want to leave because she just felt too fucking good in my arms.

 

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