Turning my head, I see Kylo leaning against the side of the brick building that neighbors the bar. I look over at him, his cargo pants hanging low on his hips, black hoodie sweatshirt and hood pulled up over his head.
I smile, imagining that at one time, Kylo had a future. Before the drugs, before his life took a turn. He doesn’t talk much about how he ended up in a coastal town with no money, no possessions, and half dead.
“Taking a break?” I ask, curling into my jacket.
He nods. “I fucked up and broke the dishwasher. E’s pissed at me, so I figured I’d give him some space before he cuts my balls off.”
I laugh into my cupped hands, trying to warm them up. “He’s harmless. It’s Avie you should be worried about.”
“Great,” he mumbles, rolling on his shoulder to face me as I stand beside him.
My back meets the brick wall, and I regret it because it seems to only make me colder.
“Are you not seeing Devereux anymore?”
“Nope. Came to find out he’s married.”
“Really?”
“Yep. All men suck.” I regret saying that to him because really, it’s not true. It’s only the ones I seem to get involved with.
His posture turns rigid, his eyes dropping to the gravel. “Not all guys.”
“I know.” His eyes lift to mine when I sigh and smile at him. “So, we’re throwing you a party on Saturday.”
He searches my face for an answer. “Why? For breaking the dishwasher?”
“No. Because you turned eighteen last week,” I point out, hoping he understands the meaning behind it. But this is Kylo, so more than likely, I’m gonna need to explain more.
His dark eyes lock on mine, and I can see so much in them. Torture. Confusion. Desire. And sadness. “No one’s ever cared before.”
“Well, we care,” I tell him, reaching out to touch his arm. It’s warm to the touch, his body heat radiating through his hoodie.
I’m just about to tell him I need to get back inside when he reaches for my hand. Before I know it, he has me backed against the wall, his hands framing my face, and his mouth welded to mine. And soon after that, his tongue is working its way into my mouth.
I’ll tell you this much. Kylo Locklear, he can fucking kiss. Are you surprised? Fuck yeah, you are. Me too!
I’m trying to kindly put an end to it, but I’ll be honest here, it’s a nice kiss. Tender, but somehow dominating. Pent-up feelings seem to explode within him, his body trapping mine from escaping.
I would have never thought a kid whose cheeks turn pink when I walk in a room could make me curious as to what else he’s good at, but he does.
His breathing picks up, deepening the kiss, but there’s no spark. I chuckle against his lips, pulling away. He stares down at me, his cheeks flushed in the night. “Sorry,” he notes, taking in my reaction when I place my hands on his chest.
Shock hits my cheeks with warmth. “I… I’m sorry, Kylo. I’m kinda involved with someone at the moment.” Believe me, I know “involved” needs to be used very loosely here, but a girl can dream.
Kylo’s body tenses, the silence deafening before he mumbles, “Okay.” Before I can say anymore, he shoves his hands into his pockets and makes his way inside, his feet crunching against the gravel.
Why do I feel like the worst person ever? Have I led him on?
Back inside, I don’t see Kylo anywhere. As soon as I’m behind the bar, Mal finds me. “Where’d you go, hon?”
Tying my apron around my waist, I shrug. “Outside for some air.”
“You okay?”
I nod, not knowing what else to say. I don’t want to say anything about Kylo and further embarrass him.
I hear the chime of the door, but it’s the physical reaction my body has on the one who enters that startles me. Before I look up and acknowledge the connection I have to him, I remind myself that he doesn’t belong to me. He belongs to his desires, his secrets. The ones he keeps locked behind those sea-green eyes, and I’m not sure anyone can fill them.
Without words, he finds a seat at the end of the bar, same place he always sits. My heart pounds in my chest, a pull to be closer, moving me toward him, but I resist. I need a moment to gather my thoughts.