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It feels like he just stomped all over my heart. “What?”
“Make It Marriage.” His voice remains steady. “I think my mother is trying to find me a wife.”
Four
Kastle
“I got the email when I was leaving work.” I dig my fingers around the bottle. Lift. Swig. “Mom sent a link to the Make It Marriage questionnaire.”
Kaelyn’s eyelashes sweep down.
I can’t see her eyes, but I doubt I’d be able to read them. We used to be open with each other. Always. But lately, I feel her close up around me. Like one of those flowers that you touch, and they tighten their petals instead of bloom.
She doesn’t say anything for a long time.
I keep drinking.
Keep waiting for the bitterness to subside.
Keep looking at her.
She’s staring at the counter, her head down and her loose, black curls kissing her shoulders.
My fingers itch to touch them, but I know better than to lay one finger on this woman’s hair. Almost got my head chewed off once because I dared to tug on a curl.
Since then, Kae’s dragged me to natural hair stores and Kinky Curls conventions every few months. I learned how expensive curly hair products are. Learned how much patience and time it takes to style it. Learned how to braid her hair myself.
I got the point.
No touching of the hair unless permission is given.
But other touching…
A memory of her body beneath mine as I pressed her into the wall sears my chest.
I close my eyes. Try to chase the heat pulsing through me.
Not that it works.
If anything, it just gets worse.
That longing. That… what the hell is it?
Kaelyn is Kaelyn.
Touching her shouldn’t affect me like that.
Like she’s someone else.
Something else to me.
But seeing her brown eyes darken when they fall on mine. Having her so close our hearts beat in time. And aching for those lips—always painted some color between maroon and dark red…
Always so kissable.
It slips into my head, an image of those lips staining other parts of me.
Parting for me.
