“Look, Kay,” I say, “I shouldn’t have snapped at you, that was fucking unforgivable—”
“I’m sorry,” she starts at the same time, “I shouldn’t have barged into your bedroom. I should—”
We both stop.
She looks good enough to eat and lick all over, like a piece of cherry candy. I lick my lips, and right on cue, my dick goes diamond hard in my pants.
Jesus Christ. Don’t know what the fuck’s happening. She’s like a line of lightning, zapping my nerve endings, making every part of me clench with need.
“This keeps happening,” she says, a grin spreading on her face. “Us talking at the same time.”
“It does?” For some reason my lips twitch. It happens when she’s around, even nowadays when there’s little to smile about.
“Uh-huh. I have no filter on my mouth sometimes, and say stupid stuff, but my memory works fine.”
“Stupid stuff, huh? Like saying you had a crush on me?”
She starts, and I wince.
With a silent groan, I lean back against the counter and fold my arms over my chest. Guess who’s the one without a filter now. “Kay…”
Her cheeks are turning crimson. She puts one of the Styrofoam cups next to me. “Yeah. That’s part of the non-filter thing.” And before I process this tidbit of info and decide what it means—she does have a crush on me, or not?—she changes the subject. “Will you tell me why you were so upset when I came into your bedroom?”
I shake my head, because no way am I telling her, and yet my mouth says, “My brother.”
“What did he say to you?”
“To stop calling him. To leave him in peace. That I fucked up so badly I can never make up for it. He tells me that every Friday when I call to check on him. Well, the few times he answers the phone.” Stop, mouth. Stop talking. “He’s right.”
“He says that to you?” Her eyes are round like coins and dark as she turns toward me, the red leaching from her cheeks. “Seriously?”
“He hates me. Keeps running away. Doesn’t want me calling. Won’t visit our mom, and she’s so sick, but he won’t fucking believe me, or even listen, and I…” I can’t catch my breath. I push off the counter, lean against the door. “Fuck, I don’t know what else to do.”
Oh God. God, why can’t I stop talking?
“He can’t hate you. He’s your brother. I can’t believe you did anything bad enough to deserve that.”
Laughter tears up my throat. It hurts. “Shit. You don’t know me, Kay. You know nothing about me.”
Her gaze falls away, and her mouth turns down at the corners. “Then tell me.”
She looks hurt. Dammit, I’m doing it again. Snapping at her when she’s being nice.
The bitter laughter dies in my throat. I push off the door and grab the plastic up, open it, and gulp down the coffee, let it scald my mouth.
Need to stop talking, stop laughing. I sound too damn cheery for someone responsible for the death of his brother’s girlfriend, a girl I helped raise like a younger sister. No matter what I do, I’ll never be redeemed, and I know it.
***
“Why don’t you go catch some sleep?”
I look up from where I’m hunched over my coffee at the kitchen table, blinking blearily. “Huh?”
I could have sworn I was at Damage Control and talking to Raine. He was there, for some obscure reason, and telling me to get lost.
Same old.
“Go to bed. Shoo.” She smiles, and I’m left staring. God, she’s more beautiful every time I look at her. Am I losing my mind? “I’ll take watch. I’ll wake you up if there’s need, I promise.”