Page 43 of Wedding Wrecker

“Aren’t you only a few years older than me? We are both bound to make mistakes, and you’re not gonna learn by keeping your head in the sand,” Kyle says, pacing in his tight underwear while his dog follows him, as if thinking they’re playing. “I know you like me, so why don’t we give this a shot? It costs you nothing!”

It could only cost my heart, which I’m not willing to put on the line again.

“I won’t be dating you. You’re unhinged, and you’ll find a new guy to get infatuated with in a month or two. I’m offering sex. Take it or leave it.” I glance at his ass and realize I might get attached to it, so I change my mind. Fucking him would be a game far too dangerous when he makes pancakes like this. “No. Actually, sex is off the table too because you can’t keep your emotions in check.”

He stops and Jekyll gets to his hind legs while resting the front ones on the small of Kyle’s back, as if they were about to dance the conga. It’s a surreal image, yet Kyle ignores the dog, as if this were an everyday occurrence. His eyes are already getting red, and I look at my breakfast, not wanting to see him tear up.

“I’ll find a new guy? I have never even tried kissing one before. People don’t suddenly change their entire diet if they enjoy it!”

I shouldn’t have let him get to me last night, but he was so sweet, so hot, so needy, and I was horny and tired. I won’t slip again.

“We’ve already established that I’m an asshole, so this is for your own good.” I shrug, even though it hurts me to say it, and sip my coffee.

“Yeah. I suppose you are,” Kyle says in a tight voice and pushes Jekyll away as he rushes to his open bag. I chew the delicious pancake that suddenly feels like sweet rubber in my mouth, but then Kyle storms toward me and tosses wrinkled white fabric on my head. “Your shirt.”

I end up spilling some coffee on it as if it landing in maple syrup wasn’t bad enough. “Jesus! Watch it! Thanks, I guess. You could have washed it at least.”

Kyle keeps pacing. “It’s your fault that we had to swap in the first place.”

I frown at him. He’s looking to pick a fight, and I’m wondering if he’ll even stay at mine now that he’s gotten his boyfriend application rejected. “My fault? I got cum all over your wedding shirt? I knew to keep mine in the condom.”

His heels bang the floor so loudly as he walks. “You told me to jerk off. I barely knew what was going on at that point!”

“Oh, so it’s my fault you were so horny you lost your mind? Kinda flattering really.”

I couldn’t possibly eat everything he cooked, because it’s too much, so I put the plate on the coffee table and fight for dignity as I pull my pants up under the blanket, then attempt to rise, using the sofa’s armrest for leverage.

“Yeah, it damn is flattering. I like you, and I’m not afraid to say it,” Kyle says through clenched teeth.

That takes me aback, because I was expecting him to spit in my face or at least push me back down on the couch as if I were a beetle that’s stuck on its back.

I’m not used to this level of emotional honesty and don’t know what to do with it. In my world, guys play games to get ahead, or to get head.

“Okay, let’s start over,” I try once I manage to get up and reach for one of my crutches as I hold on to the backrest of the sofa. “You’re disappointed. I get it. You wanted a boyfriend, but you found only me. It is what it is. You can stay here for a bit, but whatever we did last night, stays in the past. We’re not… aligned.”

“I feel we’re very much aligned,” Kyle interjects and picks up my walking aids before leaning in so I can see his toned chest up close.

“Do I get a say in this?” I huff in frustration and extend one hand, demanding the crutches.

Kyle meets my gaze. “Well, I’m not gonna give you head if we’re not a couple.”

“So we’re in agreement. You stay here for a bit, cook, drive me, and we keep it hands off.” Though I already miss his lips. He was so eager to take my dick as deep as his gag reflex allowed…

“Hands off unless you need help with your leg?” Kyle asks. He’s no longer about to cry and now watches me with a cool half-smile.

I huff in frustration because he still hasn’t handed me the crutches. “Unless I need help with my leg,” I mumble in the end.

I hate needing help.

Chapter 17

Logan

Kyle’s taking forever in the shower. It might be Saturday and I don’t need to be at work, but it’s still annoying when I want to start my day.

And I’m hungry.

While it’s not exactly his problem, he’s been living with me for a week now and has conditioned me to delicious breakfasts. So even though I could make something in the meanwhile, I know what he’ll come up with will be better.