Authors: Emma Hart
“Mm mmmm.” Marie leans against the counter and gives a little shiver. “Mmmm.”
I flip the coffee machine on and glance at her over my shoulder. “Can I help you?”
“Not you, honey,” she replies with a sigh.
“I guess you haven’t seen him,” Isla squeezes next to her sister.
“Seen who?”
“The hunk of a man staying at your aunt’s place! Oh!” They both fan themselves with their hands.
I place their coffees in front of them and ring up their order. “Hunk of a man? I’m listening.”
“He’s… Oh, he’s got me all flustered!” Marie sighs again.
“He’s tall,” Isla says dreamily. “Tall and big and his hair! Goodness me, I could just run my fingers through his hair all day long.”
I don’t think I’ve seen these two quite this giggly over a man… Well, ever, and that’s surely saying something.
“Who is he?” I hand them their change.
“Haven’t the foggiest, dear. He did say he’d be meeting us here for coffee, though. So if you see that man come on in, you make sure you notify us immediately!” Isla waggles her finger at me. My lips twist in a wry smile.
“Like I’d notice before you two ladies.”
Marie nods. “You know, Isla, foxy Roxy has a point there.”
“Foxy Roxy?” I snort. “You two are getting worse. Go drink your coffees and keep an eye out for this hunky man. Go on.”
The door opens and they both turn with lightning speed.
“Mm, it’s not our man, Marie, but he’s certainly a hunky one.”
I roll my eyes with a laugh and look up. Kyle’s standing in the doorway, one hand resting on the door. There’s a light shadow along his jaw, and as I lift my eyes to his, my heart thumps. He’s looking at me the way he did last night – intensely, like there’s nothing else he can see but me. I swallow as he steps toward the counter.
“Ladies.” He looks at Marie and Isla. “Don’t you look lovely this morning?”
“Oh, you charmer you!” Isla swats his arm, giggling.
“Just tellin’ it as I see it.” Kyle winks.
“Well…” Marie’s eyes flit between me and him. “I think we should go have a seat, Isla.”
“Right you are, Marie. Facing the door this week, though. We don’t want to miss our young man.”
Kyle raises an eyebrow at me when they’ve sat down. “Their young man?”
“Some guy staying at my aunt’s bed and breakfast,” I answer dismissively. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
I turn and busy myself with the machine and his mug. I’m trying not to focus on his gaze firmly attached to my back or on our kiss last night. In fact, all I’m trying to focus on is making this coffee without—
“Shit!” I cry, dropping the mug of milk. I grab a cloth and bend down to mop it up. Kyle’s laughing quietly behind me, and I glare at him when I stand up again.
He ignores my icy look and leans forward on the counter. “Something on your mind, Roxy?”
“Aside from how I wish I’d hit you with the milk instead? No.”
“Sarcasm to your defense again.”
I put his coffee in front of him – with milk. “Any reason you’re here this morning?”
His lips curve to one side. “I’m having a coffee.”
“Of course you are.” I put one hand on the counter and tilt my head to one side. “But why are you here?”
His eyes flick to the twins, and they look back at their mugs instead of us. He leans toward me and lowers his voice. “Can we talk about this when you’ve finished?”
I glance at the clock. “It’s not for another half an hour.”
Kyle curves his fingers around his mug and lifts it to his mouth. His brown eyes study me over the top of the white ceramic, and my breath catches in my throat at the glint there.
He says quietly, “I’ll wait for you.”
There’s a double meaning there.
I shake off that stupid thought and head toward Mr. Yeo’s table. One kiss and I’m analyzing his every word. Fucking hell.
“How was it?” I ask the old man hidden behind the paper.
“Awesome,” he replies. “That’s what you kids say these days, isn’t it?”
I laugh. “That’s it.”
“Good. You tell your mama it’s the best she’s ever given me.”
“She tried a new recipe out today. I’ll be sure to let her know it’s a success.” I take his plate and head into the kitchen to put the plate in the sink.
“Well?” Mom asks.
“He loved it.”
“Who knew all I needed was a bit of black pepper?”
I shrug a shoulder. “Not me.”
“Roxy…”
I stop before I walk from the kitchen and slowly turn to her. “Yeah?”
“Are you okay? You seem a little… off.”
“Yeah, I’m fine, Mom. I didn’t sleep well last night, is all.”
“Okay, honey. You can go when Selena turns up. I didn’t need you both last weekend, so go and get some sleep or something.”
I nod and walk back into the café. The twins are talking to a tall man with greying hair. Surely this can’t be the “hunk” in Aunt Bonnie’s bed and breakfast?
“Psst,” I hiss at Kyle, leaning in close. “Who’s that?”
He turns to me and his face is much closer to mine than I thought it would be. I flinch in surprise but he doesn’t move away.
“That’s their young man.” The twist in his lips shows just how amused he is.
I peer at the man. “My house is younger than him.”
Kyle chuckles. “Play nice, Roxanne.”
“Don’t. Call. Me. Roxanne.”
“Or what?”
“Sorry I’m late!” Selena runs through the café. “I couldn’t find my apron.”
I push off the counter. “Don’t worry about it. You could have used mine. I’m going now anyway.”
“You… What?”
“Mom said she didn’t need me so I can leave early.” I shrug and untie my apron, stashing it beneath the counter. “Have fun.”
“Pfffft.” Selena pours a cup of coffee, and I grin.
“Behave yourself, you two,” I shoot at the twins as I stroll toward the door. They both turn to me and their eyes twinkle when they see Kyle on my heels.
“We’ll say the same to you two,” they say in unison with a giggle.
They get worse.
Kyle holds the door open and we walk through. “What are we doing?” I ask him.
“Wanna go up to the gorge?”
“Just us?”
He turns to me, smirking. “Who else?”
I shrug and walk to his car. I hear him laugh behind me, and he approaches me.
“Why, Hughes,” he murmurs into my ear. “Are you nervous around me?”
Yes.
“Don’t be fucking stupid, Daniels.” I shove him away from me. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”
“Why would you change your mind?”
“Not because I’m nervous around you, that’s for sure.”
He laughs again. Damn him. I am nervous around him. It’s a feeling I’m not used to. I’m used to knowing what’s going to happen but Kyle keeps me guessing. I’m used to being in control but I’m not around him. He makes me lose control. I love it and hate it at the same time.
The car is suffocating as we drive toward the gorge. I train my eyes on the passenger side window and watch the wooded areas I’ve grown up in pass me by. I try to name all the flowers I see in an extreme attempt to distract myself from Kyle but it isn’t working.
I can’t stop thinking about kissing him last night. How his hand felt twined in my hair, how his body felt pressed up against mine and how his lips covered mine. I felt every single touch down to my bones. I still do. I can still feel the burning of my skin when he touched me.
The air is cooler out here, and it’s a relief to get out of the car and walk through the trees. It’s a relief to be here, hiding. Even if the person I know I need to hide the most from is right behind me.
“Why do you always pick the jerks?”
I stop and rest my hand against a tree. “What do you mean?”
“The guys I see you with every weekend. They’re all assholes, Rox. You’re not blind or stupid. You know they are.”
“I know.”
“So why do you go for them?”
“Because they don’t expect any more than I’m willing to give.”
“Which is a quick fuck.”
His words sting. But they’re the truth. “Yep.”
The ground crunches under his feet as he walks over to me. “Why? Why don’t you find a nice guy?”
I turn and meet his gaze. “Because they want more from me than I can give.”
“Like what?”
“A relationship.”
Kyle stops right in front of me and puts his hand next to mine on the tree. “Why can’t you give them that?”
Because they’re not you.
“I just can’t. I go for the jackasses because they don’t care if I play them. They’re looking for what I am; something that doesn’t mean anything. It’s easy. Simple. I can fuck them over and they don’t give a shit.”
“So why did you kiss me last night?”
I was drunk. I don’t know. I was drunk. I don’t know.
Great. I can’t think of more than two excuses and even then they’re both crap.
I swallow instead of saying anything.
“Well?” he prompts. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t a jerk.”
“Depends who you ask.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Am I a jerk?”
“No.” I sigh. “You’re not.”
“So I’ll ask you again. Why did you kiss me last night if you only kiss jerks?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Why did
you
kiss
me
?”
“For the same reason I’m about to again. Because I want to.” He bends his head and presses his lips to mine before I can respond.
It feels the same as last night but so different.
This is sweeter. Every brush of his lips against mine feels like he’s tasting me and savoring me. It feels like he’s using each touch to memorize the feel of my mouth on his. It’s not hard and it’s not soft.
This kiss is as raw as the one last night, but in different ways. Last night was an explosion of pure need. This is a wave of emotion full of honesty and sincerity.
“Why?” I whisper.
Kyle pushes my hair from my face and cups the side of my head, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “Because someone has to show you you’re worth more than you’ve made yourself believe. And it’s hard enough not to punch every guy that touches you without letting someone else kiss you that way.”
“Why, Kyle Daniels, are you
jealous
?”
“Yes.”
His answer shocks me. It’s the way he said it so simply, like I should have known – like I shouldn’t have had to ask at all.
“Why?”
He runs his fingers through to the ends of my hair and steps back. “I don’t know why. Just like you don’t know why you can’t give a nice guy a relationship.”
Ouch. I deserve that.
I drop onto the ground next to him. “So you came into the café for us to find out I can’t give a nice guy a relationship, and you’re jealous of any guy who kisses me.”
“Apparently so.”
“You know why you’re jealous.” I look at the floor.
“And you know why you can’t give a nice guy a relationship.”
“We’re not talking generalizations now, are we?”
“No,” he replies quietly.
I look at the gorge running past in front of us. The water is quick, crashing against the small rocks breaking its path. It’s almost as if the water knows exactly where its heading before it hits the rock and veers off in that direction, leaving the smaller, more indecisive water drops to smash into the rock. It’s a head on collision, a wreck.
The way Cam’s life ended. The way mine is heading.
Difference is, I’m in control of mine.
He wasn’t.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” My voice is quiet, almost drowned out by the gorge. “Can you take me home?”
“In a minute.” Kyle turns to me and twists his body toward mine.
“Wh—”
He pulls my face toward his again. I know I should push him away – I should cut everything here. I should get up and demand he takes me home right this fucking second.
But I won’t.
I’ve spent too many endless nights over the last few years wondering what
this
would feel like. I’ve spent too many hours staring in space in a girly haze wondering what it would be like for him to see me as something other than his best friend’s sister.
Now I know. I know what it’s like to have our lips locked and for him to look at me as someone more than what I always been have.
And I’m afraid I’m helpless against it.
Roxanne Hughes is the worst kind of headfuck.
And she doesn’t even know it
.
She knows the effect she has on guys. Of course she does – she has enough of them falling at her feet – but she has no idea what she does to us. She has no idea that one smile and blink of her eyes grasps our attention. One touch steals it to the point of no return. And I’m done for.
I’m not naïve. I know exactly what she and everyone else does. Her shit attitude is her way of coping with Cam’s death. Hell, she’ll tell that to anyone who will listen, but I’m the only one who knows how to tear that crap apart and make her really grieve for him. I’m the only one who knows what’s really hiding behind those beautiful blue eyes.
And, hell. I need to tear apart that shitty little attitude and put her on her ass long enough to make her realize she doesn’t need those jackasses she insists on seducing however many times a week. I need to make her see what she needs is right in front of her. She needs a nice guy who can make her love herself the way he loves her.
I could come to love her so, so easily. Maybe I already do in a tiny corner of my brain. Maybe there’s a part of my body that calls out for her I haven’t listened to yet.
‘Cause, god fucking dammit, the guy she needs is me.
She’s needed me her whole life and I’m not about to let that change now. I couldn’t give a flying crap if she needed me in a different way then. She needs me now more than ever, and I should have been here six months ago when her whole world fell apart.
She’ll never forgive me for that, but y’know what? That’s okay. I won’t forgive my sorry ass for it either. I should have been here to hold together what was left of her shattered heart.
Now though, now I’m home. Now I’m here and I have just over two months to find all those shattered pieces and put them back together in a way only I know how.
I need to make her see she needs me.
Because I know I need her.
“She doesn’t seem to care about anyone other than herself. Well, you’ve seen that.” Myra rubs her hand down her face.
“I think she does care,” I say carefully. “She just doesn’t know how to deal with it. I think she just misses him so much she has to fill that void somehow.”
“She ain’t ever gonna fill that void. No amount of rebellion will fill the gap left by Cam.” Ray sighs. “And she won’t listen. We let it get too far before we stepped in and now we’re paying for it. We should have lassoed her butt and grounded her to make her stop.”
Iz snorts. “She would have found a way to get out. Okay, so she was once quiet and cute, but she’s always been determined. We all know Roxy has always found a way to get what she wants when she wants it, everyone else be damned.”
“You’re right, Iz,” Myra agrees. “What was once of her best traits is now her worst enemy. I just…” She pauses and closes her eyes. Ray reaches over and takes her hand in his, and I feel the stab in my chest at seeing her in so much pain. She’s like a mom to me and this is breaking my damn heart.
Iz reaches over and takes Myra’s hand, too.
“I just wonder if we’d paid more attention to her pain if she’d have done this.” Myra opens her eyes and they’re brimming with tears. “No parent should have to bury their child. The day we lost Cam, half of my soul was brutally ripped out. Of all the people,
my
boy was taken. My beautiful, bright boy. My world was destroyed. I asked so many times why it was him. I didn’t understand why he had to go. He was so young, so ready for what life had to throw at him, and none of us realized what it was throwing was a curveball. And one hell of a curveball. I was so caught up in my own pain I forgot she was hurting too.”
“Myra—”
“No. For so long I’ve tried to keep it inside to keep strong for her, but it hasn’t worked.” She shakes her head, tears pouring down her cheeks. “She saw the crash and she was the one there when he died. She had that moment and her alone. If he had to spend that with anyone, I’m glad it was her. He loved her more than I’ve ever known someone to love another person. But we all forgot that. We hurt so much we forgot she was the one who watched him die. Our last memory of him alive is a happy one, but hers is watching that life drain from him. Roxy has suffered so much.”
“Myra Hughes, you listen to me right now!” Iz slaps the table. “That god awful day you
all
lost him. Not just you, not just Roxy. You all lost him, okay? You all had – and still do have – a right to grieve for him in whichever way you feel necessary. Sophia Loren once said that having a child was letting a piece of your heart walk around outside your body, or something like that anyway, and if shutting yourself off was the way of dealing with losing that part of your heart forever, then damn.
“You deserve that. And that’s okay. You’re allowed to cry and you’re allowed to think of no one but yourself. If I even feel half the pain you do, then again, damn! You are allowed to hurt and you don’t ever feel guilty for that.
“Roxy didn’t pick the right way to grieve. And she isn’t even grieving. She’s fighting against it – she’s sending herself into oblivion god knows how many times a week because she doesn’t want to remember. Not because of anything you and Ray did or didn’t do. She picked this path. She picked forgetting over grieving and it isn’t a long term solution. I’d imagine it works great for a while, but now it must be getting tedious, even for her.”
“I just don’t know what we’re supposed to do.” Myra breaks down now. She snatches her hands back and leans onto the table, burying her face in her arms. Her shoulders shakes, and for a moment, the only sound is the echo of her sobbing around the café.
I stand, walk around the table, and wrap my arms around her neck from behind her. I hug her. I don’t know what else to do. This woman who treated me like her own for my whole life, the one who was there when I couldn’t talk to my own mom about girl stuff, she’s heartbroken. She’s lost one child and in her mind, she’s losing another.
“We’re back now,” I reassure her. “You know we’ll help.”
“Kyle’s already dragged her away from what – two parties?” Iz looks at me.
I release Myra, grin, and nod. “Boy did she kick off. So fun.”
My cell buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out. Roxy.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Kyle.” She giggles. “I need a flavor. No. That’s not right. I need a… A…”
“A favor?”
“Yes!” She giggles again. “I’m, um, kind of stuck in Portland. And I kind of am a little dunk.”
“You mean drunk.”
“That’s it! See. You always know what I mean.” Another giggle.
Iz, Myra and Ray all look at me.
“So you want me to drive to Portland and haul your ass back here?”
“No hauling needed. I’m coming willingly this time. Coming. Hah!” Another giggle. Jesus… She must be really drunk.
“Where are you?” I sigh.
“I am… I’m at McDonalds.
Mmm, burger.”
“Is Selena with you?”
“No, silly. She’s at home. Boring boring booooring!”
“Okay. Are you alone?”
“No. I have this little Transformers guy from my Happy Meal.”
I don’t know if I should laugh or not.
“It’s Bumbleybee. He’s cuh-
rap
.”
“Okay, Roxy. Stay wherever you are and I’ll come find you.”
“Stay here? Right here?”
“Yep. Right where you are.”
“What if I need to pee?”
Is she for real? “You can go anywhere as long as you don’t leave the restaurant.”
“Okay.” She hangs up as abruptly as she called.
I stare at my phone and look at Myra. “Looks like I’m going to give your wayward daughter a ride home from Portland.”
~
“What took you so long?”
Roxy’s sitting in a booth in the back corner, her back to the window and her feet up on the seat. She’s holding a tiny toy I’m guessing is Bumblebee, and her eyes are focused on it.
“Hour long drive, remember?” I pick her feet up, sit next to her, and rest her legs over my lap.
“And you drove it just to get me.”
“Looks that way, doesn’t it?”
She spins the small doll. “Because it’s what
Cam
would have wanted.”
I ignore the bitterness in the statement and focus on the sadness she thinks she’s hidden from me.
“No,” I reply. “I came because you asked me to.”
Blue eyes meet mine. “Why?”
“Roxy, you have to know by now I’ll always do whatever you ask me to.” I put my finger open her open mouth to stop her replying. “Because it’s what
I
want to do. Not for Cam. For me. Okay?”
She nods, closing her mouth, and I drop my hand.
“Bumblebee was his favorite,” she whispers. “I ordered the stupid meal because I wanted him, but it’s not right. Cam should be sitting across from me and he should have stolen the damn toy before I had a chance to get it out of the plastic packet.”
“Like you used to do until you got all the Furbys that time.”
“Exactly like that.” Roxy’s lips twitch despite the sniff she gives. “I bought it, thinking if I got Bumblebee I could give him to Cam. Then I sat down and remembered. I remembered he won’t ever be around to take him.”
“Roxy,” I whisper, sliding up the seat and wrapping my arms around her. She curls into me as tears begin to fall from her eyes.
“How could I forget, Kyle? How could I forget he’s dead? Fucking
dead
!”
I sink my hand into her hair and hold her tighter. She shakes, and her tears soak through my shirt. I have no answer for her.
“Let’s go.” She sits up and mascara streaks her cheeks. “I want to go home.”
“Hang on.” I stroke my thumbs under her eyes. Seeing her cry breaks me. Her eyes are wide as I try to get rid of the black streaks. They’re wide and wet, shining under the harsh lights of the restaurant. Another tear drops out and I catch it with my thumb, swiping it away. I bring my lips to her forehead and touch them to her skin, leaving a gentle kiss there, before getting up and sliding her along the seat.
“Come on,” I say. “Let’s get you home, Roxanne Jane Hughes.”
She scowls but lets me pull her up.
“Fine, Kyle Michael Daniels.”
I grin.
I quite like the way my full name rolls off her tongue. I also like the way my tongue rolls off hers…
We climb into my car and she fiddles with the radio as I pull away from the parking lot. And she fiddles with the radio. And again. And again. I grit my teeth at the constant buzzing and searching as she twiddles the dial for forty-five minutes. I have no idea how I’ve put up with it for so long.
“Roxy. What are you doing?”
She drops her hand like the radio is burning her and looks at her hands in her lap. “Um. I don’t want to go home,” she whispers.
“But you said—”
“I want to go home to Verity Point, but not to my house.”
“Your mom is worried sick about you, you know.”
“When isn’t she?” she snaps. “I don’t want to go home.”
Fucking hell. I thought the girls at college were firecrackers, but Roxy would give them a run for their money. Her temper fires up quicker than a bush fire in the outback.
“Want me to pull over then? Sure you’d be comfy on the side of the road.”
“I take back what I said before. You’re not always a jackass, but when you are you’re a prize one.”
“Great. I’m right up your street, then.”
“What happened to “I’ll do whatever you ask?””
“I take back what I said before,” I throw her words back at her. “I’ll do whatever you ask when I feel like it.”
“You just climbed another rung on the jackass ladder.”
“Awesome.” I pull up outside my house and turn to her. “Does that mean I’ll get to fuck you one day?”
She opens her mouth to reply but no words come out. Instead she stares at me, her whole body frozen with shock. Good. That’s the response I was hoping for.
I get out of the car, slam the door, and walk around to her side. I yank her door open. “Are you getting out or you sitting in my car all night?”
“I can’t believe you just said that.”
“I’m sorry – is that right reserved for fully trained jackasses?”
Roxy climbs out of the car with fire in her eyes and jabs a finger in my chest. “You’re a real prick sometimes, you know that?”
“Yep.” I grin slowly. “And you love it.”
“I don’t. I fucking hate it.” She storms past me.
“Only because I’m the only person that can shut you up.”
She pauses on my doorstep. “I’ve been shut up many ways, Kyle.
Many
ways.”
She’s fucking with me again. She knows it and I know it. I don’t know what it is but she just can’t help herself. No matter what happens we always end up back here, both of us fighting. The problem is, I love pissing her off. If she’s pissed off she’s not hiding from me.