Page 47 of Tempting


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“It’s complicated.”

“Bullshit. Bet I can spell in three letters.” He brings his mug to his lips and takes a long sip. It’s a Star Wars mug. Black with a white X-wing logo. “What did you do?”

“It was her.”

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.”

No. I’m really not. I shake my head.

“Yeah. You are. Kaylee is an adult. She knows what she wants. If you can’t handle that, then you don’t deserve to be around her at all.”

“Fuck off.”

“Strong words for someone who needs my help so badly he’s here at four a.m.,” he says.

“We’re about to be business partners. You’re stuck with me.”

He chuckles. “No. I want to work with you. I come into work every day because I want to be there. And you do too. You think Ryan or Dean does anything they don’t want to do?”

“You have a point?”

“What happened with Kay? What did she do?”

“Crossed a line she shouldn’t have.” But that isn’t the problem. Not exactly. It’s my fucking head.

“For good reason?”

“Yeah.” I get it. I want to peel back every wall around her heart. I’ve seen her journal and thought about taking a peek. I’ve been tempted.

“You really aren’t a talker.”

“You just figuring that out?”

He shakes his head. “Everybody makes mistakes. Fuck knows I’ve made a lot. You too. But it doesn’t have to be a life sentence. We can all grow. Change. Get better.”

I squirm in my seat. This kind of earnesty is not my thing. “Thanks.”

“You want to watch this weight loss bullshit or you want to watch something good?”

“Depends on your definition of good?”

He chuckles. “Trust me.”

“Not sure I do.”

“You should. You need somebody’s help to figure this shit out. And I don’t see you calling Ryan or Dean.”

“Have you always been this much of a know it all?”

He nods. “But it’s very fucking lucky for you that I do know everything.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Kaylee

A shower, makeup, and the perfect skater dress oxford shoes outfit do wonders to hide the ache in my gut.

But they do nothing to lessen it.

This is all my fault.

I fucked up.

I need to find a way to fix it.

Later.

Right now, I have to survive my first day. And that starts with choking down breakfast.

I do one more makeup check. My eyes look perfectly awake.

My lips and cheeks wear just the hint of color.

I look cute, effortless, vibrant.

Hell, with my glasses on, I’m a bona fide cute nerd.

But my smiling reflection only twists the knife in my gut.

“Hey,” Emma calls from downstairs. “You need to leave soon.”

“You too.” I force myself to head to the kitchen.

She jumps to her feet and throws her arms around me. “I wanted to see you off.”

I squeeze her back.

“You okay, Kay? You seem… sad.” The word is a struggle. It sounds odd on her tongue. She’s as bad at talking about feelings as I am.

“Tired.”

“You sure that’s it?”

No. I want to tell her more. To tell her everything. But she can’t know about my depression. And she certainly can’t know what happened between me and her brother. I can’t take her hating me too. “We can talk later.”

She steps back with a smile. “Boy trouble?”

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