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“Maybe she doesn’t knowwhat she wants, asshole,” I bark out, pointing behind me to the front door. “Shealmost kissedmethis morning.” Glare burning a hole in the back of his head, I grip the edge of the breakfast bar.
It isn’t in my nature to get so worked up, so heated over anything or anyone. But Kirsten isn’t just anyone. And the fact that she was a second away from sealing my lips with hers hours ago says she has yet to decide. If there is the slightest chance she wants to be with me, shouldn’t I wait and see?
Smirk firmly in place, Travis keeps his attention on the sudsy plate in his hand. As if he is privy to information I have yet to learn. As if my admission about the almost kiss is pointless.
He just keeps washing dishes, and it pisses me off.
“Anything to say?”
At this, he peeks over his shoulder, his smirk transforming into a beaming smile. Stomach churning, my dinner threatens a reappearance.
“Nah, man.” He cocks a brow. “I’m confident of where I stand with her, whether she wanted to kiss you or not.”
“Cocky much?”
Throaty laughter fills the cabin as he tips his head back. Rinsing the pot in his hands, he sets it in the rack. Faucet off, he dries his hands and saunters to the opposite side of the bar. He tosses the towel down, flattens his palms on the tabletop, and leans forward.
“One of my best qualities.” He shrugs, then looks over my shoulder, his stare lingering a moment before meeting mine again. “Kirsten seems to be a fan.”
Such a fucking prick. What the hell does she see in him?
“So you’re cool with her wanting me too?” Arms folded across my chest, I purse my lips and raise my brows.
With a shake of his head, he covers his mouth with a loose fist and chuckles.
My fingers ball into tight fists beneath my elbows as I fight every impulse to lean over the bar and punch the condescending smirk off his pretty boy face.
“Listen,” he starts, straightening his spine and propping his hands on his hips. “I get that you and Kirsten have years of history. But you were friends. Childhood friends.” A sympathetic wince stretches his lips. “Seeing you again is bound to stir up old feelings and prompt several what-if questions.” One shoulder lifts in a subtle half-shrug. “But it’s comparable to finding a toy you had as a child, one you loved deeply, then cried over when you lost it. For a little while, you keep the rediscovered toy close. Reminisce over all the good times you had with it. Wonder what your life would’ve been like had you not misplaced it.”
White-hot anger pulses through my veins. I open my mouth to tell him I’m not some damn toy. But he holds up a hand and carries on with his stupid toy metaphorical story.
“As the days pass, you stare at that toy with less excitement. It’s a great memory, but you’ve spent more years without it than you did with it. Not to mention, you aren’t the same person anymore. You’ve grown, been hardened by the world, learned to live without childish things.” The corner of his mouth tips up a beat before he continues. “You’ve also fallen in love with new toys.”
He pauses to let those last words sink in deeper. To take root and unsettle me.Asshole.
“Soon, the nostalgia wears off and you put the childhood toy away. You move forward with your adult life with the toy of your youth as a happy memory.” He swipes the towel off the counter and folds it. “The end.”
“One.” I hold up a finger. “Comparing people to toys is asinine.” A second finger pops up. “Two. If she’s in love with you, she wouldn’t be thinking of kissing me.”
He scoffs. “Obviously you’ve never been in love.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Tossing the towel near the sink, he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Love is scary as fuck. Giving your heart to someone else…” He visibly shudders. “Every second of every day, I’ve fought what I feel for her. Since you arrived, I’ve fought harder. Fought the current pulling me closer to her.” On an audible inhale, he closes his eyes. Seconds pass before he exhales and levels me with a fiery gaze. “But I’m done fighting.”
His shoulders relax, the lines of his face smooth out.
“You can be madly in love with someone and still find other people attractive. You can want to live the rest of your life with one person and still fantasize about what it’d be like to kiss or touch or fuck someone else.” His finger brushes the underside of his nose, a mocking smile on his lips. “We’re animals, Ben. It’s human nature.” He shrugs at the simple yet complex explanation. “As long as you don’t step outside of the parameters of your relationship, you’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Thinking about someone else in a non-platonic way when you’re in a relationship is cheating.”
“I beg to differ.”
Alright, you arrogant bastard. Let’s put your theory to the test.
“So, if I walk outside to check on Kirsten and one thing leads to another and she kisses me, you won’t be pissed?”
“At her? Not at all. At you? One hundred percent.”
