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Kye tilted his head, and the cold expression he’d given Bowie was gone. He looked wounded, which made my chest hurt. “When have I ever done anything to make you scared of me? I want you happy, Baby Doll. That’s it. I’m not sure he’s the one to do it though.”
Before Bowie could respond, I took another step toward Kye. “I wasn’t scared of you. I was scared of upsetting you. For this reason. I know you still hold it against Bowie about how he handled things years ago. But we were the ones who had messed up. Bowie was a kid. We all were. That’s the past, and we are all different now. Time changed things. You see that, don’t you? Just like you and I have changed, Bowie did too. We grew up.”
Kye glanced back at Bowie before meeting my gaze. “I don’t want you hurt. I don’t like it when you cry. He made you cry already.”
“I’ve apologized for that, and I intend to make it up to her. I had to work through some old shit in my head. Shit that you’d caused,” Bowie said.
Kye’s body tensed, and I reached out and grabbed his arm.
“He’s right. We never got closure on what happened. He needed time to accept that we are and will always be just friends. That the kiss he had seen was a drunken mistake. Not something you meant to do.”
“If you wanted her as more than a friend, that would have happened by now,” Bowie added. “It just took me stepping back and calming down to get that clear in my head.”
Kye didn’t look back at him. His eyes stayed fixed on me. There was something there that I didn’t understand. He seemed lost. “Does he make you happy?”
I nodded. “Yes, he does.”
There was a flash of pain in his eyes, and I battled with the urge to throw my arms around him and assure him he’d always be my best friend. That was a position no one else could have. But for Bowie’s sake, I remained where I was. I had to draw the line, not blur it.
Kye lifted his eyes to look back at Bowie. “Don’t hurt her again. That’s your only warning.”
Bowie was silent for a moment, and I was mentally pleading with him not to say something to set Kye off. When he came back from doing Mafia things, he was always on edge.
“I don’t plan on it,” he finally said tightly.
Kye raised his eyebrows, and I saw his jaw clench. “I need more than your fucking plan. I need your word.”
“Kye,” I said, squeezing his arm in an attempt to get his attention.
“It’s okay, Gen. He’s been the one taking care of you for the past few years. I get it. I respect it,” Bowie said behind me.
I didn’t take my eyes off Kye.
“I didn’t do it for you,” Kye said through his teeth.
“I didn’t say you did. We both love her. For her sake, let’s call a truce. I’m not here to come between your friendship. In fact, I might be the only man who gets it. Most guys would hate that her best friend is a guy. Especially someone like you. You’re intimidating to those who didn’t grow up with you.”
Bowie was right. I watched as Kye let his words sink in and hopefully calm him. When he looked back down at me, he searched my face, his eyes scanning me for any sign that could give him a reason to argue this.
Finally, he nodded. “Okay. If he’s what you want.”
Relief flooded me. “He is.”
Kye stepped back from me, and I let my hand fall away from my hold on him.
“I have some things to do. I’ll leave the two of you to it.”
Then, he turned and walked back to the door without another word. When it closed behind him, I let out a sigh. Although it had gone better than I’d expected, the ache in my chest wasn’t completely gone.
Kye—Seventeen Years Old
Closing my eyes tightly, I laid my head back on the sofa and wished the six-pack of beers I’d drunk could take the image of Genesis, naked, with Bowie fucking her, out of my head. Truth was, I had been fantasizing about how she’d look while being fucked for years. It was one of my favorites to get myself off. But in my fantasies, it was me filling her with my cock. It was me making her moan. My name she cried out.
Bowie had now taken that away from me too. He’d tainted it. Made it his.
My free hand balled into a fist, and I threw the empty bottle of beer in my other hand against the wall.
“FUCK!” I roared.
Why did it have to be like this? There were a million other girls out there for me to want. Why did it have to be Genesis? And why the fucking hell had Bowie gone and made her his? It wasn’t fair. It was me she looked at with those big, worshipful eyes. Me, who she let call her Baby Doll. Me, who she hung out of her window and talked to at night. Not Bowie. If one of us got to have her, it should have been me.
