Fallout (27 page)

I’VE BEEN THIS CLOSE

To Kyle before, but never with the same

intention. Not sure where he’ll decide

to park, but I do know when we get there

everything will be different between us.

We will no longer be two sides of a triangle.

We will be adjacent parallel lines.

My own hand travels the length of his leg,

from knee to groin, memorizing the cut

of his muscles.
You’re driving me crazy
,

he says breathlessly.
But then you’ve

been driving me crazy for a while.

I just have to know: Why? Why now?

“I don’t know. I love Matt, really I do.

But more like a friend. Not like … this.”

At the mention of Matt, Kyle tenses.

Matt. Right. He’s going to be pissed.

I pull my hand away. Slide over a little.

“It’s not too late. We don’t have to …”

Yes, we do.
He pulls me against him again.

Put your hand back where it belongs
.

HE TURNS OFF THE MAIN ROAD

Onto a narrow strip of potholed

pavement. It leads to a small parking

area. River access, and this time

of year, there’s no one else here.

My heart beats against my chest

like eagle wings against heavy air.

Kyle throws the shifter into park,

pushes me over enough to slide

out from beneath the steering

wheel. In almost the same motion,

he yanks me into his lap and our

lips weld together. Heated. Urgent.

This is not a kiss of friendship.

This is a kiss born of lust, and I have

never known anything like it.

This is unstoppable, no holds

barred. This is beautiful.

Crazy. A beginning. Betrayal.

Addictive. Aggressive. Alive.

This is something to be afraid of.

I AM CERTAIN OF THAT

Yet even as my brain cries, “Slow down,”

my body insists, “Give me more.” Kyle’s

hands move over me and his touch

is nothing like Matt’s clumsy

investigation. Somehow, these

hands have intimate knowledge

of the heights and depths of my body.

Their skin is unimaginably soft.

But they are not gentle. “Easy …,”

I start, but as the word leaves

my mouth, I realize I don’t want

it easy. And Kyle knows it too.

Shush
, he commands.
Don’t tell me

what to do. I know what you want

and I’m going to give it to you.

His words bring a rush of fear

and, worse, excitement. He lifts

my shirt up over my head, kisses

down my neck to the deep V

between my breasts. Pauses.

You are incredible. Beautiful.

I look down into his upturned

eyes, and though he doesn’t say

so, I know he wants my permission.

In answer, I unclasp my bra, offer

myself to his mouth, his tongue,

his teeth. This is already more

than I’ve given Matt, or ever will.

Superego whispers, “How far are you

willing to go?” But I don’t have to

answer that question yet. I place

my hands on Kyle’s cheeks, lift

his face toward mine. He pulls

away reluctantly, like an infant

intent on dinner. But he lets me

kiss him softly, cool the inferno.

“I didn’t come here with you

because I want to have sex

with you.” I kiss him again,

feel the heat of his response

beneath me. Still, he asks reasonably,

Why did you come here with me?

A BATTLE BEGINS

Inside me. Head versus

heart. Logic versus emotion.

And every synaptic surge of

logic

is telling me not to let

my mouth spill

the words my heart

insists

are true. Any girl ever

stung in this common

manner would agree

it’s

a bad move to confess

such a strong emotion

so quickly. In fact, it’s

idiocy.

So okay. I’m stupid.

I don’t stop myself,

but rather rush

to say,

“I know I shouldn’t tell

you this, but I wanted to

be with you because …

I love you.”

I EXPECT HIM

To laugh. Snort. Push me

away. What I don’t expect

is for him to knit his fingers into

mine and say,
I love you, too.

God, Summer, don’t you realize

how hard it’s been to feel like this

about my best friend’s girl? How

it hurts to see you with him?

It’s torture. I’ve wanted a day

like today for a long, long time.

One hand rises to touch my still

exposed right breast. This time

he is gentle. I close my eyes, give

myself to the dizzying sensation.

“So what are we going to do?

About Matt, I mean.” The hand

falls away.
We tell him. Tomorrow.

You’re mine now. Nothing can

come between us, especially

not Matt. Understand?

SUDDENLY I’M UNCOMFORTABLE

But it’s not the tone of his voice—

inflexible, with jealous undertones—

that makes me that way. It’s how

I’ve been kneeling, legs spread

across his lap, for twenty minutes.

When I try to move, he stops

me.
No. Not till you say you

understand. You and Matt

are finished, right?
He sounds

mean, but his eyes are pleading.

“I love
you
, Kyle. Not Matt.

I could never be with him

again.” His grip does not

loosen, so I quickly add,

“But my knees are killing me.”

Everything about him relaxes,

and he laughs.
Why didn’t you

say so?
As I slide to one side,

he suddenly gets the picture.
Gain

an amazing girl. Lose a best friend.