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“Knock what off?” I ask, feigning innocence.
“You know,” she says.
I’m getting hard looking at her, and I do need to knock that off. It’s been easier dating a girl who doesn’t seem to hate Kylie, but I can’t help but feel like Aubrey’s hiding a vindictive streak under that smile. She’s a little too friendly to Kylie. Too forced. If Aubrey comes back to find me sporting a hard-on while I’m alone with Ky, it might break that facade apart.
But would that be such a bad thing, really?
“What are you reading?” I ask. I should stop staring at her, but I don’t want to stop talking to her. We’ve hardly seen each other over the last couple months.
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s just a suspense thing someone at work loaned me.”
She opens the book, but I can tell from the angle of her face that she isn’t reading. She’s staring out at the river. I watch her from the corner of my eye, wondering what she’s thinking.
I’m losing her.
The thought comes to me out of nowhere, and I get a sick feeling in my stomach. We’re growing apart. In my quest to commit to a relationship, I’ve inadvertently pulled away from Kylie. She’s pulling away from me, too—more and more each day. Is this the inevitable decline of our relationship? Am I going to wake up ten years from now, married with a couple kids, and realize I haven’t talked to her in years?
I take another drink, trying to drown that thought.
“So, how are things with Aubrey?” she asks, her voice tentative.
Her question takes me completely by surprise. “Um…” I hesitate. Should I talk to her about this? What should I say? What can I say? “Yeah, you know, not bad.”
Chicken shit.
“Good,” she says. “That’s good.”
“Why?” I ask.
Now she looks like she’s not sure what to say. “I don’t know. I was just wondering.”
I take a breath. “Actually, I’m not really sure how it’s going.” At least that’s honest.
“Why not?” she asks.
This is uncharted territory for us, and I have another sudden revelation. I’ve always considered our unspoken pact to be something that protects her. But it occurs to me as I choose my words, that more than anything, I’m protecting myself. Because if we get too deep into this topic, how am I going to avoid telling her that the real reason I’m shit with women is that none of the women I’m with are her?
I wouldn’t be shit with her. Fuck, I really wouldn’t.
I’d be different with Kylie. I wouldn’t push her away. I’d cherish her, like she deserves to be cherished. I’d let her in.
Damn it, why do I keep thinking this way? This is what I was trying to stop doing.
I take a deep breath. All right, if we’re going to have this conversation. “There are good things about her,” I say, testing the waters, “but I’m not sure if this is right for me.”
“Maybe it just hasn’t been long enough,” she says. “Relationships take time to build.”
I nod, taking a swig of beer. “Is that what you think? That I need to give it more time?”
She pauses, chewing on her bottom lip. “If she makes you happy, then yeah.”
“Do you think she makes me happy?”
“Honestly, Braxton, I wouldn’t know. You seem happy, I suppose.”
Okay, so if she can ask, does that mean I can too? “So, how are things with Derek?”
She hesitates. I love that she hesitates. It means she has a reason, something that makes her think. “Good, I guess.”
