Page 67 of A Little Kissing Between Friends

“Where’s the confusion? I swear your comprehension skills are lacking. If it’s not music, you stay lost.” He tilted his head to the side and eyed me. “Do I need to grab a guitar and sing it to you?”

In spite of myself, I cracked up. “Man, fuck you!”

“Aye, I’m just tryna meet you where you at.”

“I can’t stand your ass,” I muttered darkly.

He smirked. “But you jealous of me though.”

“Was,” I emphasized, wishing I could take that confession back. “Not anymore.”

His cheeks lifted, making his dark brown eyes disappear behind his lids, and his grin spread. “You say that like it matters.”

“Man...”

He sat forward quickly, cutting me off. “Nah, Cyn. Be for real. Whatever reason you been beefing with Jucee don’t have shit to do with me. You can try and pull that jealousy shit with someone else, but I know better.”

I stared at him.

“Mmhm,” he continued, nodding as he scooted to the edge of the couch. “Jucee is fine as hell. You know that, I know that, everyone who lays eyes on her knows that. And yeah, she’s bi, but shit,” he chuckled, “that don’t mean a damn thing to me if the only person she’s interested in is my disgustingly talented, but sometimes blind to the obvious, older sister. I mean—” he shrugged “—I worry about her taste since she chose the least attractive Thomas, but I’m not one to judge other folks’ preferences.”

The amusement dropped from his face as he pointed a finger at me. “You, on the other hand—”

At this point, I felt confident enough to try and derail the train before it made contact. Holding up a hand, I shook my head. “You don’t even have to say it. I already know and I’m working on it.”

Both of Cody’s eyebrows surged up his forehead as if they’d heard that Beyoncé was performing a concert on the edge of his hairline and wanted to be first in line to buy their tickets.

He waved me on. “I gotta hear this shit. G’on then, tell me what it is you already know.”

Amusement appeared in the wrinkles at the corner of his mouth. I wanted to be pissed—I was pissed—but my daddy’s voice was in my head telling me the perils of leading with anger. So, I took a calming breath, blew that shit out, and spoke.

“My...preferences...” I trailed off as several paths appeared in the forefront of my mind.

My instinct was to defend myself, to explain away the explanation before I even got the words out of my mouth, but I knew better. It was too late at night—or too early—to be wasting time with bullshit. I’d fucked up. I could admit that. Had admitted it days earlier while crying on my daddy’s shoulder.

This was different though.

Cody was my baby brother. He had the unique advantage of knowing me all of his life, and because of that, didn’t see me the way others did. While he had a measure of respect for me, it didn’t keep him from calling me out when he deemed it necessary. Where my daddy was invested in protecting me as much as helping me learn the lesson, Cody was much more interested in pointing out my fuck-ups.

I was pissed that I’d given him so much material.

Clearing my throat, I began again.

“I allowed my fear to cloud my judgment. I used that to unintentionally push away the woman I loved.”

There it was. I’d laid it out there and admitted my fault to him. It was much easier to deal with when I told on myself. I felt like B-Rabbit at that final cypher when he took the ammo from Papa Doc. Smirking, I waited for Cody to respond.

Yeah, fool! Tell these people something they don’t know about me!

The scoff that burst from Cody’s throat was so disgusted that I reared back.

“You really think that’s what I was about to say, Cyndi?”

Frowning, I blinked. The inflection on my name was real aggressive, each syllable clipped like jagged fingernails that kept snagging threads from a beloved garment. “That’s what happened, so what else could you have to say?”

His chuckle was less amusement and more frustration. The underlying resignation was a flashing marquee that he was fed up.

“If you think all you did was ‘push her away,’ you’re more dense than I thought.”