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He shoots me an incredulous look.
I nod.
"Fuck. Really?"
Not exactly. It's both of us. It's my fucking head. "It's complicated, but yeah."
He sets his mug on the coffee table. "No fucking way. She's crazy about you. And you're crazy about her. You're just both idiots."
I bring my mug to my lips. Take a long sip. The coffee is perfect. Bold. Just sweet and creamy enough. But it doesn't do anything to get my mind working. I still don't know how to explain this in a way that makes sense to someone else. Or to myself.
"What happened? She cheat on you or some shit? I can't see Kay doing that, but then I couldn't see Bree going the way she did."
Walker's sister got into drugs when she was a teenager. She's still a mess, flitting in and out of rehab, generally causing havoc.
"Didn't she turn eighteen like three weeks ago? Were you really fucking her when she was jailbait?" he asks.
"No. We haven't—"
"You haven't touched her?
" He arches a brow. "Really?"
"I haven't." I run my hand through my hair. "She's so fucking young."
"Yeah. But she's not a kid. Kay has been taking care of herself for a long time."
"She's sweet."
"Your type."
"Yeah, but... I'm a fucking pervert," I say.
"No shit. You're into your little sister's best friend."
"No, I mean—"
"What? You like it rough so you're a pervert?"
Yeah, basically.
"Lots of girls like it rough. You should know. You've fucked most of them."
"Yeah."
"But, what, none of them were Kaylee? She's too sweet, too good to be into that shit?"
How the fuck does he have my number?
"Get over yourself, Brendon. You don't have a monopoly on dirty thoughts."
"That's not—"
"With any other woman, you'd be into her inexperience. How is Kay different?"
"She's Kay."
"That's retrograde shit. You're better than that."
