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I don't want to think of anything right now.
A knock at the back door has me rushing there. He wouldn't dare - he -
Of course he would.
It's Landon, of course, standing there in the pouring rain, smiling miserably when I open the door.
"I'm sorry," he yells over the deluge. "But I can't just let this go. I want you in my life, Kyra. I don't care what it takes. I don't care what you need from me - time, more trips, babysitting, whatever it takes. I need you in my life - whatever it takes."
"I..." I start and trail off.
Why is it that what I want to say and should say are never the same?
I step outside into the rain. To tell him no, I'm sorry, but I need time.
The rain splatters coolly on me, though I hardly notice.
I open my mouth to tell him, and his sweeps to mine in answer. And, as they move together, I find that's the real answer I've been wanting to give all this time.
The cool rain drills out any thought from my head. That and his lips, guiding mine, reassuring mine.
This man, this wildly gorgeous man...
Our fingers entwine, run along each other's bodies.
He's here. Here for me, and what he said...
It doesn't make it alright, what he did. But it's damn near close.
"I'm sorry," he kisses into my ear. "I made the worst mistake of my life. I'm sorry."
And then we kiss some more. We kiss ourselves outside further, onto the grass, him on top of me, me on top of him, the rain on top of both of us. We kiss our clothes off.
It should be cold, out here in the grass-scented rain. But when I'm with him, it's only warm.
We kiss him inside of me. Slow and steady and building. Warm and warming. Tingling overtakes me. Until the rain and I are battling to see who can be louder.
Afterwards, he holds me. Then the kissing starts again, the building. Him and me. Him inside me. Us. As one.
In and out, deep and deeper. Until we're crying out together. Coming together. Shaking together.
Then, later, holding each other. When I turn to look at him, though, he won't meet my eye.
"What is it?" I ask him.
The rain's tapered off; now it's just a sad drizzle.
"Forget it," he finally says.
"Landon."
"Fine," he says, scowling. "I'll tell you."
Chapter 24
Kyra
He glares into the rain, strokes along my arm absent-mindedly, and just when I'm about to urge him again, he says, "I love you."
Just like that. In the casual tone of 'I brushed my teeth'. In the resentful tone of 'You owe me $400 and it's been months'.
I love you - I love you - I love love love love love you.
I gape at him.
Is the drizzle muddling my hearing? Is my own overeager brain putting the words I want to hear in his mouth?
"Forget it," he says, turning away.
"No," I reply, turning his face back to me, his stubble scratching my fingertips. "You mean it?"
A half-shrug. "Maybe."
I grin. "Maybe?"
He said it, now it's your turn, a quiet voice urges me.
As if it's as easy as that: I love you - hey, I love you - guess what, me too, I really do, love you.
Hell no. It's not as easy as that. It's fucking hard.
Even with his face inches away from mine, his familiar deep brow, strong nose, wide-set hazel eyes and endlessly kissable lips, he seems like he's still turned away.
I shouldn't say it, what I'm feeling. It's a bad idea. A terrifying one.
But the rain's made everything slippery and I can't seem to hold onto it how I should.
"I love you too," I breathe, and his eyes come alive.
"You mean it?"
I just laugh, and that's answer enough for him.
His lips sweep to mine, my jawline. "Kyra."
"Landon," I murmur back.
He wraps his arms around me, beaming like a kid on Halloween. "That's it, then."
With him smiling like that, how can I not smile too? "What's it?"
That grin. "We are."
"We'll see about that," I say, although my smile is a dead giveaway.
Not that I'm so sure. There's still...
Shit.
How can I still keep that from Landon now?
I need to tell him, and soon. Should have already told him, really. But right now, I have way too much on my plate as it is, with my work and the whole Pamela situation.
If Landon were to react badly to it...
No.
I'll tell him soon. Soon, but not yet.
"What's up?" he asks now.
"I... still have to talk to Pamela," I confess.
"Oh. Now?"
"I want to get it over with," I say.
Which is true, but what's truer is that what just happened between us terrifies me and I want to be alone. And call Pamela at some point. Having my head screwed on properly would be nice too.
"Makes sense." He nods, putting on his clothes, all casual. As if what just happened didn't. "I'll leave you to it, then."
