Because of Kian

by Sibylla Matilde

Right now, she was docile, which was a nice change. Snuggly. I’ve never really been the snuggly type, but it all just felt awesome. Her soft, warm little body curled up against me.

  But, things were kind of fragile yet between us, and I didn’t want to freak her out. So it would really be best to tuck her into bed and leave. To let her sleep.

  And then I could work on her again when she was feeling better. Because every minute I spent with her made me want her even more. Made me want to be there for her. To hold her and take care of her. There was no fucking way I was going to just let her go now. I’d wanted her for too long, and the pull was stronger than ever.

  I lifted her sleepy form and rose, taking her into her small, surprisingly fluffy bedroom. While the rest of her place had very little personality, her bedroom was obviously a haven. Lots of pillows and throws, a frou-frou plushy light purple blanket. Some framed photos of who I figured were her parents sat next to a small lamp that cast a dim, warm glow throughout the room. Sheer white curtains that filtered the twinkling city lights in the distance. The whole room just screamed estrogen. In comparison, the blandness of the rest of her apartment made me think this was the only room she decorated. Probably the girliest room I’d ever seen.

  This room was so very Brynn.

  I pulled back the blankets and the satiny smooth sheets, and tucked her underneath, brushing a soft kiss on her forehead.

  “Get some sleep, Brynn. I’ll come check on you in the morning.”

  Her sleepy eyes opened halfway, catching my gaze.

  “You’re leaving?” she breathed with a knitted brow.

  “I probably should. You need some sleep.”

  She bit at her lip and was quiet for a minute before she whispered quietly. “I can sleep with you here.”

  My hand cupped her cheek, the soft, smooth skin like pale silk in the dim light.

  “Do you want me to stay?”

  Brynn nodded almost imperceptibly. “I do…”

  She certainly didn’t have to ask twice. Knowing I should leave, I nodded instead before shucking off my shoes and jeans, pulling my t-shirt off, and sliding into the warm bed beside her.

  Good God, her mattress was like sleeping on a pillow. So incredibly soft as I sank down into it, spooning her body tightly against me. Her familiar perfume surrounded us. I curled my large frame around hers, pressing my face against the skin of her neck and inhaling deeply. As my arms tightened around her, her fingertips traced along my bicep.

  It was all so calm and quiet and wonderful.

  “Thank you,” she sighed.

  “Anytime,” I smiled into the crook of her neck.

  “I’m not sure what it is,” she whispered in the dimly lit room, “but it’s almost like, the tighter you hold me, the more secure I feel.” Brynn turned her head slightly to peer up at me through the shadows. “I think you may just have to hold me like this all the time.”

  “Happy to, baby.” I kissed her temple lightly, and she faced forward again, snuggled up against the smooth pillow, melting into my arms with a soft, contented sigh.

  A sigh that echoed through my mind long after she fell asleep. Long after her breathing slowed and her body shifted to face me. It echoed in my dreams as I held her tightly through the night.

  Chapter 7 ~ Mom

  Someone Else’s Life ~ Joshua Radin

  The Girl ~ City and Colour

  Brynn

  I woke up in Kian’s arms to a light rain pattering against my window and a grey dawn faintly illuminating my bedroom.

  My cheek lay against his bare chest, and his spicy, male scent filled my lungs. The steady beat of his heart and his slow, even breathing made the moment purely tranquil, and, for some time as the rainy daylight began to fill the room, I dozed tucked up against his rugged frame.

  I’d slept better than I had in years. Since before Evan. Probably since before I’d left home.

  Home.

  The comfort of Kian’s arms brought back the sensation of safety. The warmth of my mother’s soft embrace. The deep rich tones of my father’s laughter. In that moment, I realized how much I truly missed them.

  I looked over at the clock by my bed. It was well after eight o’clock. Ever the early birds, my parents had likely been awake for hours, and I eased out of Kian’s arms and slipped quietly from the room. After starting up the coffee pot and downing a glass of orange juice, I curled up on the couch and picked up my iPhone.

  My mom’s voice sounded a touch anxious when she answered. To be expected, I suppose, since I hadn’t called often over the last couple years. It was generally her calling me, hoping to reconnect, to get back to the daughter I’d been before Evan. Those conversations were rather one-sided and likely tortuous for the both of us. I tended to be distant, not much of a conversationalist, in spite of the discomfort it put her through. I could only sit there and think of everything I’d wanted to tell her, but just couldn’t.

  “Hey, Mom,” I said softly.

  “Brynn, honey,” she replied, as though I wasn’t aware she’d known it was me before she picked up the phone. “How are you? I’m a little surprised to hear from you. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong at all.” My voice caught a little with the words as I realized they weren’t just a line to ease my mother’s worried mind. “I just… I woke up thinking about you. Just wanted to give you a call.”

  A quiet moment passed as the words soaked in. “Well, I’m glad, sweetheart. I’ve been thinking a lot about you, too.”

  Kian’s words from that first night floated back to me. Parents seem to know more than they let their kids think. It occurred to me that my pain may have been more evident than I’d thought. I could almost feel the relief in my mother’s voice, and a slight sniffle echoed through the phone line.

  “Mom, are you okay?”

  “Um, yeah,” she murmured. “I just have a cold.”

  I knew she was lying, and she undoubtedly had tears filling her eyes. Like mother, like daughter. Lie like a rug to avoid a fuss. At that moment, I realized just how similar my mother and I were.

  The scent of coffee filled the room, and we talked quietly for a while, not really about anything important, just chatting lightly. But actual conversation. And for the first time in forever, it was just… nice. At one point, Kian shuffled out of my room, bare-chested and barefoot, only his jeans, and I completely lost any train of thought. He carried a t-shirt in his hand that he tossed on the back of couch beside me, the warm man smell teasing my senses as much as the coffee did.

  But I about swallowed my tongue as he turned towards the kitchen. I hadn’t noticed the tattoo on his shoulder before.

  Anxiously, wanting a better view of it, I waited for him to come back into the living room. He stepped momentarily out of the kitchen with a coffee cup and container of half-and-half, an eyebrow raised in question. Unfortunately, the tattoo was on his other shoulder, so I wasn’t able to see a thing.

  Well, plus, his chest was amazing, sinewy and sculpted muscles, broad shoulders. Mouthwatering. I nodded dumbly in response to his silent question, and he smiled as he turned back into the kitchen. A short time later, he returned with two large steaming cups of coffee, setting a perfectly creamy-colored one before me. Taking his cup, he crossed over to the window to look at the dreary weather outside.

  And gave me the perfect opportunity to study his ink.

  It covered the curve of his shoulder and down his arm. A large, striking Celtic design that looked to be a rope, twisted and crossed and looped around in an intricate pattern that almost, but not quite, created the shape of a heart. Graceful scripted letters that spelled out ‘mo mháthair’ curved along the top left of the design, and ‘go deo í mo chroí’ followed along the lower curve on the other side. I had no clue what it said, but it was so incredibly breathtaking that it brought tears to my eyes.

  I faintly heard my mother chattering on in my ear as I stared, absolutely enthralled by the perfect male form before
me.

  Oh my fuck.

  “Mom,” I finally said, barely able to speak as Kian turned back to look at me with a raised brow and a smile, “I need to get going. I’m going to be late for, um… work.”

  “Okay, honey. I love you. I’m so glad you called. It was really wonderful talking to you.”

  My mother could make a whole new conversation out of saying goodbye. But my mind was no longer functioning, still boggling over the God-like figure standing in my living room. I mumbled a quiet goodbye and ended the call.

  Kian crossed back over to me, sitting on the edge of the couch. His eyes narrowed as he studied me closer.

  “You look flushed. Is your fever back?”

  “I don’t think so,” I murmured as his fingertips brushed along my forehead, smoothing my hair back from my eyes. I quickly looked down. “I probably look like hell. I haven’t even combed my hair.”

  He smiled softly. “You’re gorgeous, Brynn.”

  My name on his lips.

  Sweet Jesus, it about killed me every time.

  “Okay, baby. I’ve gotta go teach a bunch of preschoolers how to kick ass,” he smiled. “I’ll give you a call in a bit to see how you’re doing.”

  “Okay.”

  Taking the last few sips from his mug, he set it on the coffee table and reached for the shirt beside me. I wanted to cry when he pulled it over his head. He donned his socks and shoes, then reached for his leather jacket. With one last look down at me and a soft kiss on my cheek that made me shiver with desire, he was up and out the door.

  Chapter 8 ~ Orange Juice

  Charmer ~ Kings of Leon

  Copy of A ~ Nine Inch Nails

  Stronger ~ Kanye West

  Counting Stars ~ OneRepublic

  Brynn

  “Damn skanks,” Sage muttered as she looked through the dimly lit club.

  Handing her my purse and keys to set behind the bar, I turned to see what was up, what had her so pissy, and noticed a number of scantily clad women crowding around the guys. One in particular was running her fingertips up Kian’s arm. A nauseating sensation erupted in my stomach.

  “You should go over there,” I said to Sage as she poured my drink. “Stake your claim on Jeff and all that shit.”

  “Can’t. Gotta stay behind the bar,” she replied. “We’re short a bartender tonight, and I need this job too much to risk it. How about you? You go over there… stake your claim.”

  I snorted back at her. “What claim? I don’t have a fucking claim.”

  “Right. Whatever. Let the slutty bitch rub her boobs all over Kian, then. Pretend like you don’t care.”

  “It doesn’t matter if I care or not. I’m not good for him. She’s probably got a fraction of the baggage I do.”

  The unease I felt manifested into full on resentment the longer I sat there. As much as I hated to admit it, I was waiting. Hoping he would extricate himself from the short skirt and tight shirt who’s shrill giggle managed to cut through the pulsing beat of the club. The longer I sat there, stirring my drink with the straw, the more annoyed I became. I kept my back to the crowd, facing the bar and listening to the screamo voice of Caleb Followill as Kings of Leon belted out Charmer.

  And I really tried not to look for him in the mirror behind the bar. Desperately. But all I could see was that ho running her fingers up Kian’s arm, like an animated GIF looping through my brain. Her back was to me as she faced him, which was just as well. I didn’t want to see her face. She could be stunningly gorgeous, which would bother me even more. A couple times, Kian’s eyes met mine, and I angrily averted my gaze, pointedly looking away.

  As if it weren’t already about to make me explode, another joined in on the other side, fondling Kian’s large arms. The next thing I knew, the two girls were all but making out in the shadows, leaning up against his firm chest. They were putting on quite a show, momentarily illuminated in frequent flashes of the dance floor lights. Any dude with a ménage fantasy (okay, any hetero dude, period) would bend over backwards to be a party to that.

  I felt a motion beside me and looked up to find a guy slipping in between the barstools, a little too close for my comfort, to get to the bar. He wasn’t horrible looking, dark hair and a stubbly jaw, but he was obviously about ten sheets to the wind.

  “Hey, darlin’, wanna drink?” he slurred slightly.

  “I’m fine, thanks,” I replied as I tried to scoot back slightly.

  “Awe, no. Let me, I insist,” he smiled down at me, and he leaned in a little closer. “You’ll break my heart if you say no.” As if on cue, his lower lip stuck out like a petulant child.

  Exasperated, I turned to glance at Sage who looked at me with a raised eyebrow, well aware of how much this shit annoyed the fuck out of me. Neither one of us had much tolerance for the schnockered jackasses out chasing tail. In the end, though I shrugged and shook my head in defeat. Sage laughed and prepared my drink.

  “Here you go, Brynn,” she said. “Your usual.”

  “Thanks,” I smiled back at her, then my smile faltered as I turned to the weaving, wobbling guy beside me. “You too, I guess, thanks.”

  “I’ve seen you here before, you know.”

  My annoyance grew. Not only was Kian being fondled by some floozy skank, but now I had an inebriated Romeo breathing down my neck. “Fascinating,” I scowled back, and sucked down the last of the drink I’d been toying with before picking up the new glass Sage had just set down in front of me.

  “You don’t mingle much,” the boozed up Romeo noted. “I thought maybe you were lonely.”

  “Hardly,” I scoffed.

  “I’m Doug, by the way,” he smirked at me.

  “Awesome,” I ground out before I sucked down my new drink. I wanted nothing more than to get the fuck away from this dude. He was kinda giving me the creeps.

  The pulsing beat of Kanye’s Stronger began pounding through the room, and I slid off the stool to head out to lose myself in the bass. I needed to let go and chill out.

  Unfortunately, Boozer Doug seemed to consider that an invitation to follow me. As we crossed the room, my eyes unwittingly traveled back to Kian. His perplexed expression indicated he was not pleased by my admirer. But he had his own who had her arm completely wrapped around his, as though he was a prize she’d won at the fair.

  I quickly averted my eyes to avoid seeing her features, knowing I’d find myself lacking. Trying to ignore Kian, I brushed off his irritated demeanor and furrowed brow, went to my corner of the floor, and began to dance.

  Unfortunately, so did Boozer Doug.

  Fucker.

  I crooked my finger at him to lean in closer, and he grinned wickedly at me before moving closer.

  “Back off, buddy,” I warned in his ear. “I’m not interested.”

  “Feisty,” he shouted above the music. “I like that.”

  When he put his hand on my hip, I lost my cool. Thinking back to my lessons with Kian, I half-smiled, giving him the impression that he had maybe won me over with his intoxicated barely-there wit. As he leaned forward to press against me, I pulled my knee up and nailed him in the nuts.

  Poor guy probably didn’t really deserve that. But I was just plain pissed and wanted nothing to do with him.

  I stepped back over to the bar to grab my purse and keys from Sage. Boozer Doug’s friends were laughing and helping him out the door, and Kian was watching them closely with narrowed eyes.

  Unfortunately, his groupie was gyrating along with the beat as though he was her own personal stripper pole.

  “I’ve gotta get out of here, Sage.”

  She twisted her lips in to a sympathetic frown. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have cut those bastards off hours ago. They’re a bunch of dicks.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m just not up for this bullshit. I need to bail.” Throwing my purse strap over my shoulder, I shot one last glance at Kian. His eyes were on me. His slut was on him. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Maybe go get ice cream at the ca
rousel with Mattie or something.”

  “Sounds good,” she replied before she was called away by the growing crowd.

  I stepped out into the cool night, scanning the lot with a watchful eye. Boozer Doug was leaning against a car near the back door, cupping his balls and as he hunched over surrounded by his friends.

  Nice.

  “Well, there she is,” one of his friends laughed. “Gonna try again, Doug?”

  “She is a hot little thing,” another chuckled.

  “Fuck off, asshole,” I growled at him.

  He stepped a little closer. “Come on, hot stuff,” he crooned. “I’ve watched you dance. You can drop the frigid bitch act.”

  Mr. Touchy-Feely grabbed for my arm. This time, it was pure instinct. One hundred percent fury at Kian, another hundred percent at these motherfuckers. Without even thinking about it, all that training with Kian kicked in. Touchy-Feely guy stepped closer, I swept out my leg, knocking him off balance. I brought my foot back and kicked him in the knee. As he started to fall, I brought the base of my hand up and cracked him square in the nose. That was all it took, and he hit the pavement with a thud and a groan.

  I quickly moved away and shouted over my shoulder, “I said, back the fuck off, asshole!”

  Boozer Doug whimpered, still cradling his balls in his hand. The other guys just stared in shock at their friend on the ground.

  “Holy shit,” I heard someone murmur as I moved away, crossed the street to the lot to where my car was parked. Oh joy. Right next to my car was Kian’s bike.

  My hands were shaking from the adrenaline as I pulled my keys from my clutch, and they slipped from my grasp and hit the pavement, right in a deep puddle. Nice. Another key fob bites the dust. What a fabulous ending to what had suddenly turned into a really shitty night. My mind strayed back to the bimbos lined up to feel Kian’s muscles and vie for his focus. I really should have left sooner.

  Reaching into the icy puddle for my keys, I shook the water from them, muttering and cursing under my breath.

  "Brynn?"