Two Little Lies Page 9

  Only one way to find out.

  I ached for him to lean across the seat and kiss me. My nipples beaded at the thought, and I was glad I had a thick winter coat on. I was growing far too turned on from this simple gesture to be able to speak, but I wanted to meet his honesty with my own, so I gave a quick nod to answer him.

  “Okay. So back to your question of dinner,” he continued in a silken voice. His thumb stroked the pulse at my wrist. I felt like every nerve ending in my body had rerouted to that one spot. “Yes, I’d like to. Tonight. Takeout?”

  “Sounds good,” I whispered.

  “Your skin is so soft. And it’s like this everywhere.” He sounded matter of fact, but his fingers slid up the delicate skin of my inner forearm, and I bit back a groan of pleasure.

  I almost begged him to strip my coat off and touch me right here in this parking lot but managed to restrain myself somehow.

  “Be at my house at six.” He ducked his head down, and his tongue swiped my wrist, which made my sex tighten in agonized hunger. And then he was gone, leaving me in my car.

  It was a couple of minutes before I could get my brain leveled out enough for me to drive.

  Chapter Twelve

  I sipped my beer and eyed the man across the table from me. We were in Kyle’s kitchen, boxes of Thai takeout between us, half the contents dished onto our plates.

  I was so nervous.

  I’d been on dates before, of course—was this a date? An oddly formal booty call? I had no idea—but I’d never felt like this. My stomach was a mess, and I could barely taste my meal. Which sucked, because I loved Pad Thai.

  “Tell me something about you that no one else knows,” I said in an effort to break the ice. Most people loved talking about themselves.

  He eyed me as he chewed on a piece of chicken. “Pretty broad question. In what area?” He speared another bite and slid it into his mouth.

  “Um…how about starting with something in your childhood.” It might distract me from the sight of those gorgeous lips as he ate. Or the way his lashes curled. The bob of his Adam’s apple.

  Kyle lifted his beer bottle and took a swig then rubbed his jaw as he thought. “My sister used to make me play dolls with her when we were kids. Our dolls were always on dates.”

  “That’s adorable.” I smiled.

  “Until you stop and think about the fact that we’re siblings,” he replied drolly. “One time, I had to pretend I was the prince and she was the princess. She made me carry her around the whole house in my arms. When my buddy found out, he teased me about it for weeks.”

  I didn’t have any brothers or sisters. My parents were a bit on the older side, and I suspected I was an accidental pregnancy, though they’d doted on me with lots of affection. Mom had gotten her tubes tied shortly after giving birth to me. “I always wondered what it would be like to have a sister.”

  “It was obnoxious. She was always bored and needy.” He sounded serious, but I saw a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke. Obviously he felt a lot of affection toward her, despite his words. “When did you lose your virginity?”

  I had just sipped my beer and almost sputtered at the sudden question. “Jumping right to the big stuff, are we?”

  He smirked and wrapped those sexy fingers around his beer bottle.

  Fine. He wanted to play hard ball? Okay. The gloves were off. “Seventeen, senior prom night. He was on the football team, and we had sex in the back of his car right after the dance.” Kyle had gone to my school, but he was a year older than I was, and we’d hung out in different circles. Partly because at the time I’d thought he was a blowhard.

  Funny how one unexpected night changed things.

  “Why were you such a jerk to me growing up?” I asked him straight up.

  “Why were you such a jerk to me growing up?”

  I narrowed my eyes. Oh, I don’t think so. “Hello, do you remember throwing my lunch box out the bus window? It was my favorite.”

  He raised one eyebrow. “You’re mad at me over a lunch box?”

  “Yes. Plus you put stickers in my ponytail whenever you sat behind me in the cafeteria. And you wrote on my science book that I smelled like a turnip. And—”

  “Okay, okay,” he said with a hearty laugh as he held up his hands in surrender. “It’s apparent that I emotionally scarred you. My deepest apologies for the childhood trauma.”

  “Hardy har.” I sipped my beer. “But seriously. Why?”

  He leaned just a fraction closer, his lips cracking into a faint smile. “I’m surprised you have to ask.”

  “Did I do something I didn’t know about? Torture you in some way that deserved all of that attention?”

  “Other than being the most beautiful girl in school?”

  The line was said so smoothly it took a second for me to catch on to what he’d said. “Wait, what?” My heart stopped. I stared, stunned. Kyle thought I was beautiful. Or at least he had when we were kids. What did he think now?

  He shook his head. “That’s how guys flirt with girls they like.”

  “You liked me?” I barked out a laugh. Unreal. This wasn’t what I’d expected. But I had to give it to him—my nervous tension was completely gone. I felt relaxed and light. “You liked me, so you flushed all my stickers down the toilet?”

  “In all fairness, they were super girly stickers, if I remember right. You should have bought more gender-neutral things.” He twirled rice noodles on his forked and ate the large bite.

  “I got them for my ninth birthday,” I said lamely.

  “And yes, I do,” Kyle said in a quiet tone.

  “You do what?”

  “Still think you’re beautiful. To answer your unasked question.” His gaze caressed my face. “But you know that already, don’t you.”

  I bit my lower lip. Actually, no. No one had ever told me I was beautiful. How strange and yet fitting that it was Kyle, the only guy to ever be so brutally, blessedly honest with me.

  “What do you do when you’re at home by yourself?” he asked me.

  “You mean other than touch my boobs?”

  His eyes grew molten, and he stared in silence at me.

  I’d meant it as a dumb joke, given the way he’d been dishing it to me since we’d started this convo. But watching his soft exhalation, how his hands clenched ever so slightly, made me want to keep pushing it.

  “First I strip down and take a nice, slow shower with lots of soap—”

  “You have to stop,” he said with a miserable groan.

  I laughed, absurdly pleased I’d gotten to him. “Okay, fine. In reality, it depends. Sometimes I read. Sometimes I listen to music. Sometimes I make jewelry.” I waved a hand at the delicate necklace I had on—a skeleton key dangling just above my cleavage on a thick chain with glass beads and other small touches. “I made this one.”

  He studied the necklace—not like he was humoring me. No, he actually looked it over, tilted his head to take it in. The way a person examined art. “Interesting. What made you choose a key?”

  Good question. “I think keys have a lot of powerful symbolism in them. They indicate opening a door that was closed to us, of course. But also the way we close ourselves off from others. But a key is a hint that things can change, given the right circumstances. The correct one will unlock whatever it is you seek.”

  Kyle rubbed his chin. “You ever thought about selling them?”

  “What? No, it’s more a hobby, a way to kill time.”

  He shrugged. “Your choice, but it might be worth exploring. You have a real talent.”

  I loved nursing. I had a great, steady job. But it might be fun to expand, develop my artistic side a bit more. “Maybe I will. Thanks.” I paused to sip my beer. “Can I ask you a personal question? With the hopes that it won’t make things weird or awkward between us?”

  His eyelids were the only part of his face that moved, just a quick flutter. “That sounds pretty deep.”

  “Why aren’t you looking to sett
le down? I’m asking out of curiosity, not because I’m trying to change your mind or anything. Because you’re entitled to feel the way you want, of course.” Gah, I was rambling. “Sorry, I just—”

  “I get it.” He rested his elbowed on the table and his gaze drifted to look around the kitchen. “This was our family house. Several generations of Winslows have lived here. In fact, my parents only moved out because they’re living with my grandfather, who’s sick. My great-grandfather—the one I was telling you about earlier—started this business. So this career, this place, has been my whole life.”

  I listened, rapt. There was an earnestness yet awkwardness in his voice that made me realize he didn’t talk much about these things. I was hungry for more information.

  “I started working here as a teen. Filing papers and doing busywork at first for my dad and granddad then moving into actual case work.” He sighed, looked down at his plate. Poked at his food with his fork. “You tend to grow sour on love when you see the same things over and over again. People lying right to your face, even when you have evidence about the lie. People scamming for their own selfish purposes. People cheating.” He took a bite. Chewed.

  I nodded. Part of me was still hurt about West. It would take a while to get over that betrayal, I was sure. Kyle’s attitude made sense now though. When you were surrounded by people who professed to care about each other but hurt the person they supposedly loved, it could make you not believe in it.

  And now I got why our morning after was so awkward, too. Kyle was afraid of intimacy, afraid of being vulnerable.

  The realization made my heart sad. I couldn’t imagine being that closed off. What was the key to unlocking Kyle’s emotions, his heart, his trust? Could he ever feel that way about a person?

  He looked at me, and his eyes were powerful, penetrating. How had I ever mistaken that emotion in his gaze for anger? He practically vibrated with intensity.

  “Have you ever been cheated on?” I found myself asking. “Or hurt in a relationship?”

  “Nope.” He got up and took his plate to the sink to rinse it. “Too busy with work to date anyone seriously. Not to mention most girls are looking for commitment I can’t give them.”

  That sadness in my heart grew to encompass an edge of uneasiness. Warning flags were going off left and right in my brain. This was totally not a guy I should hang my hopes and dreams on. I needed a man who would let me in, would be vulnerable and open and romantic.

  Probably better that he and I were going to just date casually then.

  Kyle cleared my plate, and I packed up the food containers and popped them in the fridge. We cleaned in tandem, moving around each other to straighten things back up and discard of the scraps.

  My mood was a bit dampened now. I wasn’t sure why, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the things he’d admitted. Well, I’d asked him, and at least he’d been honest. I could simply protect my heart so he wouldn’t hurt me. Which was why I thought he had been so brutally open. He didn’t want there to be any question of how he felt.

  Point noted.

  “Grab your coat,” Kyle said in his usual straightforward manner.

  “Date night over already?” I replied in a tone I hoped sounded teasing and light. Surely he wouldn’t kick me out like this, right?

  He moved out of the kitchen, and I followed. He put his coat on too. “No, we’re going outside. You have gloves? Put ‘em on.”

  Excitement took away the sting of disappointment in my chest. With fumbling fingers, I slipped them on and zipped my coat to the top.

  We went outside. The air was cold but the wind had stopped whipping through the buildings. I tugged my hat down over my head, and we moved into the backyard. It was small but cozy, with several inches of snow covering the grounds.

  Kyle bent over and made a snowball then rolled it over patches of snow until it grew.

  A snowman? I bit my lip as a flush of pleasure warmed my cheeks. This guy kept me on my toes. I never knew what to expect. I squatted and began to roll a second ball to be the torso.

  When his piece was large enough, he helped me with mine then hefted it on top.

  “You make the head,” I told him. “I’ll look for the face.”

  “No corn-cob pipes back here,” he told me. “Sorry.”

  “Probably no magical hats either. But we’ll make do.” I walked around the perimeter and found two stones that could work as eyes. There were two branches that could be the arms. But what for the mouth? “Nose or no nose?” I asked.

  He gave a muttered reply I didn’t understand. I turned around to see him bent over, that delicious ass on display.

  Before I could talk myself out of it, I scooped up a pile of snow, crafted it into a snowball and hurled it at his butt. It smacked his left cheek. To his credit, he didn’t react with a jump or howl. Just stood, wiped the snow off his pants then turned around to face me.

  I shot him a daring grin, and he took off toward me, tackling me to the ground within seconds.

  “Ahh!” I cried out with a breathless laugh as I tried to wiggle out from under him. Thick, cold snow created a sort of cocoon around my body. “I’m gonna freeze to death.”

  “No you’re not. Stop whining.”

  I saw the interest in his eyes and stilled. His arms wrapped me and he rolled me to be on top. The loose strands of my hair fell around his face.

  Then we were kissing, and when my body lit on fire from the inside out, the snow didn’t seem quite as cold or noticeable anymore.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages,” Bianca said as she scooted closer to the bar. “You’ve been busy.” Her knowing look made me flush from head to toe. “Getting your dirty-girl sex on, I bet.”

  “Knock it off,” I said as I swatted her arm. I mean, she was right, but we didn’t need to go into all the details. “You’ve been busy too with all your band practices. How’s that going, by the way?”

  Her quirked eyebrow let me know that she saw my thinly veiled attempt at a conversation change, but she went with it. “Better. I think we’re smoothing out some of the bumps. I hope, anyway. Hollie’s finally starting to check her ego at the door during a few of our practices.” She rolled her eyes. “You’d think she was fronting for The Rolling Stones, the way she prances around on stage with self-importance while singing. At least she’s stopped trying to write our songs for us. The girl can’t rhyme to save her life.” Her snort rang loud and clear through the ambient bar noise around us.

  Bianca’s all-girl band, Perfect Ten, was a lot of fun to see in concert, since they did a mix of cover songs and a few originals, but lately Bianca had been talking about more and more issues with them. Hollie was the lead singer. She had talent, but she’d become a little too control-freaky for Bianca’s tastes. The drummer was always late for practices and had actually skipped a couple recently too.

  In the last month or so, I’d fielded more than one angry text from Bianca as she vented her frustrations to me.

  “I’m sure things will level out,” I soothed.

  “Anyway.” Bianca waved her hand toward the bartender, Chris. He came over and gave her another beer. “Thanks, hon,” she told him then returned her attention to me. “So, how are things going with Kyle? And in case I didn’t say it enough times before, I was totally right about him. Righty right rightersons.”

  “You’re going to keep rubbing that in my face, aren’t you?” I said with a mock heavy sigh. “And to answer your question, things are fine.”

  More than fine, actually.

  It was nearing the end of January, and we’d been together for a little over three weeks. Both of us were busy with work and other life issues, but somehow we still managed to find time to talk every day and see each other a few times a week. Going for walks, going to the movies and arguing about why the film was good or bad… He was exciting to verbally spar with because he kept me on my toes, challenged me.

  Our arguments weren’t
negative or antagonistic. More like fun, because we were both rather opinionated, which surprised me. With him, I felt free to be bold and outspoken, to say what I was thinking instead of trying to be pleasant and easygoing, like I had with West or any other guy I’d dated. In fact, Kyle often prodded me into it whenever I found myself falling back on old behaviors of polite deference.

  He wouldn’t have it. He’d just keep picking at me until I said what was on my mind. Then he’d kiss me senseless and I’d forget whatever we were talking about.

  Lately I found myself unable to get him off my mind. Drifting through work with a smile on my face, not even caring about the teasing comments I got from everyone. The guy was definitely under my skin.

  “Oh, girl,” Bianca said with a heavy sigh as she eyed me. “You’re falling for him. I can see it all over your face.”

  I squirmed on my barstool and picked at my beer label, which was suddenly super interesting. “What? No I’m not. That’s ridiculous.” Since our initial talk about his not wanting to commit to me or anyone else, I’d made a vow to myself that I wasn’t going to love him. Have fun with him, do my best to outsmart him in arguments, savor his kisses and touches, yes. But not love. My heart was securely locked away where he couldn’t hurt it.

  Well, I kept telling myself that, anyway.

  “It’s not love,” I continued in a light tone. “But I do like him.” A lot. A lot a lot. I could admit that, at least.

  Her lips thinned as she stared at me.

  “Okay, I really like him.”

  Still stared.

  I gnawed on my lower lip. “Okay, fine.” With a huffed sigh, I said, “I admit I do…struggle a bit with the status of our relationship. It’s new for me, being with someone who wants to keep it casual and commitment-free. We’re in this strange in-between stage where we’re getting to know each other, drawn to each other, but we don’t talk about anything long term. No plans months in advance, that kind of thing. In all fairness though, we’ve only been dating a few weeks, so I don’t expect him to plan summer picnics with me or anything.”