Kyland
Page 67

 Mia Sheridan

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He scooted closer, keeping eye contact, asking silently if I was okay with him moving toward me. I was. And I shouldn't be. I should tell him to move away. I should tell him I didn't even want to breathe the same air as him. But I didn't. I looked him in the eye and I didn't move away. Very, very slowly, he put his arms around me as if I was a skittish animal who might run at any moment. He pulled me into his broad chest. I sucked back a sob and clutched at his smoky T-shirt. He held me as I finally cried the tears I'd held at bay for so very, very long, and I let him.
We sat there for what seemed like forever, his strong arms around me, his heart beating steadily under my ear. After a little bit my tears dried and I tilted my head up and our eyes met. "Tenleigh," he whispered, his voice as smoky as the rest of him, filled with need.
There were so many things we needed to say to each other, so many things I wanted him to explain to me. So many emotions were swirling in the air around us, so many unanswered questions. But in that moment, it seemed like all that could wait. And so when his lips touched mine, I let out a sound of encouragement, and pressed myself into him. Maybe it was wrong. Maybe . . . probably. His tongue entered my mouth tentatively and he let out a groan that sounded half tortured and half blissful. I met his tongue with my own and reached up around his neck to weave my fingers into his short hair. He put his hands gently on either side of my face and tilted my head. The kiss went deeper. Just like the fire we had watched earlier, my whole body felt alight with flames, my flesh burning with need. But fire destroyed. Fire left you devastated and singed beyond recognition. I pulled away, Kyland letting out a small sound of loss. I stared at him, his lips red and wet. He was gazing at me like a starving man looking at a buffet of delicacies. I blinked and looked to the side, trying to control my ragged breathing. I wanted him. Hadn't I always wanted him? Why did everything about us seem so simple and yet so complicated at the same time?
"Kyland, I . . ." I said softly.
"I know," he answered. And I believed that he did even if I didn't entirely.
"You should go home and shower. And I should . . . I have a big day tomorrow."
He was silent for a second and then he nodded. "What you're doing with the school, it's really, well, it's amazing."
"You know what I'm doing?"
He nodded. "I asked about it in town."
"Oh."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I better get going, let you go to sleep."
I nodded. "Okay."
He paused. "Okay."
He stood up. "Do you need anything before I go?"
I shook my head, remembering the time he'd come here unable to ask me to go back to his house to sleep in his bed. Was Kyland still lonely? Something told me he was. But I couldn't offer him anything now. I felt both too empty and too filled with a lingering ache. I had once wanted to give him everything, lay my life and my heart at his feet, but right now, I just couldn't.
"Okay, then, good night."
"Good night." He walked away from me and I watched him retreat. After a minute I stood up and went back inside. I tossed and turned for the rest of the night. Sleep was elusive, visions of Kyland and me as we once had been, skating through my mind, snippets of conversations filling my head, the memory of the feel of his rough hand moving across my skin invading my senses. I finally fell into fitful dreams, just as the first light of dawn appeared in the trailer windows.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Kyland
The sun streamed through my window, way too early. I hadn't been able to fall back to sleep after I'd gotten home, showered, and gone to bed—despite the fact that I was exhausted. The truth was I had barely slept a wink since Tenleigh had returned to town.
Tenleigh.
My heart thudded in my chest. I needed to tell her the truth. I'd been about to last night, but the timing had just seemed wrong. How were we going to be able to talk about anything sitting in front of her trailer in the dark? Or maybe I'd just been a coward. But I hoped, I had to hope that if I apologized, if she knew the truth, she'd find it in herself to forgive me.
Then again, how did you apologize for a lie when the lie itself was almost as cruel as if it had been the truth?
I brought my hand up to my head and raked my fingers through my hair.
Christ.
And there was the small matter of him—Jamie Kearney. Rage and jealousy flashed through my body, propelling me up and out of bed. I walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter. All the time she was away I'd tortured myself with the knowledge that she was probably dating other men, maybe even falling in love with someone else. It made me feel insane with jealousy. I knew she had loved me, but I'd hurt her so desperately. Her love for me wouldn't be enough to stop her from moving on. And it shouldn't be—I had set her free. It was the choice I'd made—I had to live with it. And so I had, for almost four long years. I just had never expected her to return with Jamie Fucking Kearney of all people. I knew he'd rescued her that day on the road between here and Al's and I was grateful to him for that. But his father was a disgusting pig, and I had no idea what kind of character Jamie had. He could be a nice guy for all I knew. Still, when I'd seen him standing in the lot where Tenleigh's school would be, holding her in his arms, the only thing racing through my mind was all the remote places up in the mountains where a buried body would never, ever be found.
I turned on the stove and started to boil water so I could make some coffee. As I waited for the water to heat, my mind returned to the night before.