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As we walk inside the gazebo, I finally realize that everything is happening for real.
How could he do this? How did he manage to rent this park? It's private property, and it's forbidden to be here at night. And where did he get such a beautiful gazebo?
All those thoughts are rushing through my mind as I try to catch my breath. Why does it surprise me so much? It's Tyler Parish; he's able to do anything he wants.
This is so beautiful.
I feel my eyes getting wet, and I bite my lip to fight the urge to start crying.
I can't cry in front of him. I want to have sex with him, not for him to pity me.
"Hey, don't cry, baby," he says gently, and finally reaches out to touch me.
When his hand brushes mine, I feel electricity flowing between us again as if we're providing invisible energy when we touch.
He called mebaby. He never called me like that. And I never felt more aroused than I do now.
"I can't believe you did this all for me," I say with a trembling voice, and I feel a tear run down my cheek.
"I didn't want to upset you," he whispers and touches my cheek to wipe off the tear.
His fingers are warm and soft on my skin.
This is so incredibly intimate, such a strong connection, almost too good to be true.
I want to hug him, to squeeze him in my arms, to melt in his arms, and never let him go.
And that's why I move closer and press my body to his, just like I did on the porch.
He seems surprised but does not pull away.
I press my body closer, brushing my breasts against his torso and stroking his back with my fingers.
He holds me for a couple of seconds, although his hug is not as strong as mine, then he pulls away again so abruptly as if he was hit.
I can't take this anymore. If he doesn't want to touch me, why is he torturing me with all of this gorgeous preparation for our date?
"Why are you doing this to me?" I cry out, desperately, and another tear falls down on my face. "Why are you pushing me away?"
I look at him with blurred eyes. And now I'm crying not because of my happiness that he prepared such a great surprise for me. No, I'm crying because of the pain I feel about him pushing me away.
He looks surprised at my reaction, and so do I. I'm amazed I could say that.
Before going to Africa, the Kylie I used to be would have never shown her real emotions about her attraction to her best friend.
But I'm not that scared little girl anymore. I'm a new version of Kylie - a woman who knows what she wants and is not afraid to show it.
I'm sick of pretending. I thought I'd be hurt if I told Tyler that I love him, and he did not share my feelings, but now I realize that it hurts more when you don't even try to fight for love.
"I'm not pushing you away," he says guiltily, looking at me...with pain?
Why does he feel hurt? I'm not the one who continually pushes him away!
"Yes, you are!" I raise my voice this time to make it clear he can't deceive me. "And I need to know why? Why are you doing this? Do I still smell like zebras? Am I so ugly now that you can't even touch me?"
And here it goes. I said it. I admitted that he might not like me. Now he has to confirm or refute it.
If he is not attracted to me, I won't be expecting anything other than our friendship.
