Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
He spins, his hands coming to cup my face and his nose mere inches from mine. “I fuck everything up. Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up too.” His voice is rough, laced with pain and fear.
I put my hands on his, holding him to my face as I shake my head. “No, we’re fine. Nothing’s changed. I choose you.” He lets out a shaky breath, sending water droplets onto my lips, and I lick them, needing to show my acceptance of him, no matter what. “Who you are to me and who you are to them isn’t the same thing. Maybe one day, they’ll see the man you’ve become, but it doesn’t have to be tonight.”
I lift my chin, slowly moving my mouth toward his. Just a kiss, that’s all he has the mental space for, but I want him to know, without a doubt, that I’m not abandoning him. I see him, I want him, I think… I’m falling in love with him.
I press my lips to his, gently at first, but Kyle takes over, turning it into something much more desperate. He tilts his head, consuming me like I’m his lifeline, and truthfully, I might be. I told him I didn’t need anyone to save me because I’ve been doing it myself my whole life. I think maybe Kyle’s been saving everyone else, putting them in the lifeboat while he drowns and never giving himself a true chance to live.
But if he won’t save himself, then I will.
I pull away, bringing his forehead to mine and meeting his sad eyes with flames growing high in my own. Kayla was wrong. Kyle doesn’t need me to burn his ego to the ground. He did that a long time ago, only putting it back in place like protective armor when he’s around his family. What Kyle needs is someone to stand at his side while he burns his past self down and stands proudly in the ashes as the man he’s become. And I can do that. Hell, I can hand him a match and shield him from the flames.
“Kyle, wake up,” I tell him. He’s sprawled across my bed, naked and softly snoring. He slept fitfully all night, mumbling in his sleep and tossing and turning, so I’d let him sleep longer if I could, but Wayne, Zeus, and Frogger are already next door and I saw them grinning at Kyle’s bike being in my driveway before another morning’s work begins.
“Wha…?” he murmurs and then slowly, his eyes peel open. He squints against the brightness, throwing his arm over his eyes. “What time is it?”
“Almost eight. The guys pulled up about five minutes ago. Coffee’s ready for you,” I tell him.
He groans, and I move away from the edge of the bed, but he unexpectedly shoots up, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me with him as he lies back down. I land askew, half on top of him and half on the bed with a leg hanging over the edge. I let out a cry of surprise, smiling at the sudden position change, but when I meet Kyle’s eyes, his are serious, not playful.
“Thank you,” he says. His thumb is tracing circles on my shoulder, and his gaze follows like he’s afraid I’m going to have changed my mind by the light of day. Or maybe he’s just realizing how big the implications of last night are with his family.
I think that’s the bigger weight on his mind, but just in case, I lay a smacking kiss on his lips. “Anything, anytime, pendejo.” I’m going back to his playbook, guessing he needs some levity this morning. But I also add, “It’s fixable. With your family, I mean… it’s fixable if you want it to be.”
He ducks his chin, nodding, and lets me go.
I don’t think he believes me, but I truly mean it. While he was replaying everything over and over on our ride, I was too. All the ugly, painful moments, but also the teasing, lighter ones. There’s some dysfunction, for sure, but what family is perfect? None that I know of. And what’s wrong with Kyle and his family can be improved with work. And if there’s one thing I know Kyle’s good at, it’s working his ass off.
I head back to the kitchen and pour him a to-go cup of coffee, leaving it on the table as I head out back. But I stop and stare at the steaming cup of coffee and think about how I’m serving him the way Mama does with Papa. I wait for the anger and resentment to come, but it doesn’t. In fact, it doesn’t feel subservient at all. It feels like I care about Kyle, which I do.
Maybe that’s the case for Mama too? It’s something to think about because I’ve never considered the way she acts in that framework. Could that be why she does so much for Papa? Could it be as simple as that, she loves him and wants the best for him?