More Than This
Page 54

 Jay McLean

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   I don’t know how to explain this to him so he understands that it’s not about him. I close my eyes and exhale a steady breath. When I open them, I look straight into his deep-blue gaze. “I want to make sure that I’m strong enough on my own without you. Since that night, it’s been only you. You’re my entire world. I need to learn to stand on my own and be my own person, but I can’t do that here.”
   “Why not?” he pleads. His face is so close to mine, our mouths are almost touching. I want to kiss him. I look at his lips then at his eyes. He must know what I’m thinking, because he licks his lips just a tiny bit. I close my eyes so I’m not tempted, because this is not how I want our first real kiss to happen. “Just try. Please?” His voice breaks.
   I look at him.
   Really, truly look at him.
   And I fall in love all over again.
   “Please, Kayla. Just give it until the new year. Promise me?”
   I nod.
   He picks us up off the floor and carries me back to his bed. He holds me, and I hold him.
   “God, Jake, I more-than-a-lot like you.”
   “Kayla, I passed that stage a long, long time ago.”
 
 
FORTY-FOUR
JAKE
   It’s been a week since we went to Emily’s grave, and a week since that night we . . . I don’t know what that night was, but it did bring us closer together. I guess we needed to have it out.
   Also, Kayla is a little girl when it comes to insects and rodents.
   She saw a mouse and a cockroach and demanded that pest control fumigate our house. Apparently, we have to be gone for two nights, so she suggested heading back home for the weekend. But I, being the gentleman that I am, booked us a weekend at a hotel. It’s nothing swanky, but it’s something different, and I think we need it.
   “I hope you’re not planning on getting lucky tonight.” She elbows me as I take our bags out of my truck.
   “I asked for extra pillows just in case,” I say smugly.
   She gasps, her mouth wide open in shock. I laugh so hard at her reaction, I have to stop to catch my breath.
   Once we’re in the hotel room, I kick myself for not bringing any alcohol. I know we don’t need any to have a good time, but it sure doesn’t hurt. I tell Kayla that I’m going to go down to the bar to see if I can charm them with my good looks and “panty-dropping smile.” (Her words—definitely not mine.)

   She says she’s going to hop in the bath.
   I say I’m staying.
   She pushes me out the door.
   Fifteen minutes later, after talking to the bartender (who happens to be a baseball fan) and meeting up in some sketchy alley, I’m back in our room. She’s still in the bath. “Having fun?” I ask her, trying to sneak a peek. The bubbles are so high, I can’t see shit anyway.
   “Mm-hm,” she murmurs, eyes closed. “We should totally get a hot tub for your house.”
   “That can totally be arranged.” I smirk at her. “Can I get in?”
   “Yep.” She pops the p. “I’m getting out now, anyway.” She stands up, completely naked and dripping wet. I stand there frozen with my jaw on the floor, my eyes outside my head and my mouth foaming.
   Instant hard-on.
   By the time my brain catches up to my dick, she’s already drying off and putting a robe on.
   “Wait.” I’m acting like I’m twelve and have never seen a naked girl before. Truthfully, I only act like that with Kayla. I have to clear my throat a thousand times so something—anything—would come out. “What are you doing?” I almost yell at her, because I’m pathetic and have no control over anything at the moment. “Take that off. Get back naked. Hurry!”
   What the fuck did I just say?
   She chuckles at me, pushes me out of the bathroom, and locks the door behind her.
   I rest my head against the bathroom door, waiting for her to open it and come out, so I can tell her to get naked again. I need to see her again.
   She opens the door, still wearing the robe. I practically rip it off her—or at least try to. But my brain and body don’t work, because all the blood has rushed to my dick. She’s laughing at me and pushes me away so I calm down a bit. But in my head, I’m a six-year-old kid who didn’t get the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figure I wanted, and I’m going to plead for it every hour until I get what I want. Because I’m a brat, and I need to see her naked.
   Once I’ve settled down a bit, we open the champagne I brought, fill glasses with ice—the way she likes it—and start drinking. It’s not long until we’re slightly buzzed.
   “Did you have a pet kangaroo in Australia?” Kayla asks.
   I spit out my drink, because it’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard.
   “What?” She laughs. “What’s so funny? Did you?” she asks through a giggle.
   “No,” I say flatly. “We did not have pet kangaroos. They do not roam the streets or backyards like everyone thinks. In fact, the only time I saw a kangaroo was at the zoo.”
   “Oh,” she says, still giggling. “Then why would everyone think that? It doesn’t make sense.”
   “No shit.”
   “I’m tired,” she says, stretching. Damn it, now I know we won’t be fooling around.
   “You ready for bed?” I ask, walking over to my bag to get my phone charger.
   “Almost,” she whispers behind me. I hear something soft drop to the floor.
   When I turn around, her robe is around her ankles, and she’s wearing hot-pink matching lace underwear. It’s almost see-through everywhere. The pink complements her darker skin, and I swear to God my dick is about to explode.
   “Holy shit,” I breathe.
   She laughs shyly, her cheeks red and her face hiding behind a curtain of hair. I walk toward her slowly, because her body deserves to be taken in from top to bottom. When I finally reach her, my mouth is dry. I can’t take my eyes off her. I’m inches away from her, so close that I can feel her body heat radiating. I reach out, but my fingers stop millimeters from her. “I don’t know what to touch first,” I tell her.
   She closes her eyes and says softly, “I don’t care, Jake. Just touch me.”
MIKAYLA
   I feel like he’s everywhere at once.
   His hands.
   His mouth.
   Everything.
   Everywhere.
   He lifts me, his hands on my ass, and I wrap my legs around him. He groans when our parts collide. I can feel him, and I’m sure he can feel me. He carries me to the bed and lays me down. He stands above me, and for a few seconds that feel like hours he looks at me. His eyes wander over my body, and I’m almost ready to cover myself. I’m so self-conscious—it took so much courage to wear this and be this in front of him.