Something About a Hot Guy

by A.L. Jackson

Genres: Short Stories

Synopsis

Kyle Love is the bane of my existence.
Arrogant jerk.
Ridiculously gorgeous.
Completely out of my league.
Did I mention he's my best friend's big brother?
Oh yeah, and I've been in love with him my entire life.

Kenna Myer drives me insane.
Adorably shy.
Painfully awkward.
Ridiculously beautiful.
And my sister has made it clear on multiple occasions that she's completely off-limits.

When I show at the apartment she shares with my sister for a surprise visit to find my sister away for the weekend, I know a should walk. I don't.

It turns out my sweet Kenna has herself a secret...a blog called Something About a Hot Guy. I'm ninety-nine percent sure its top subject is me. One thing I’m certain of? Things are about to get interesting...

A sweet, swoony short story from NYT Bestselling Author A.L. Jackson.

Release date: December 4, 2019

Publisher: A.L. Jackson Books Inc.

Print pages: 68

Sample

One

Kenna

My fingers flew across the laptop keys. My bottom lip was tucked between my teeth in astute concentration, my attention laser-focused as I pounded out the best answer I could find to the question that had been left sometime last night.

I had to get it right.

I never wanted to mislead people or act like I had the perfect solution.

I just wanted to be honest.

Open and honest.

And sometimes that was really hard.

But that’s what this was all about—cutting myself wide open and laying it out.

Giving people encouragement. Hoping they’d realize they weren’t alone. See that we could all have a little fun with it along the way.

My heart raced a little harder than normal as I typed. Adrenaline always got the best of me when I got lost in the little fantasy world I’d created.

As if I were caught somewhere between a dream and reality.

That was hope, though, wasn’t it? It didn’t always hinge on fact. It all lived in the realm of possibility.

My phone buzzed where it sat on the floor next to me, and I grinned when I saw it was my best friend and roommate.

 

Vanessa: Why aren’t you here? Vegas is lonely without you!

 

With a small smile, I shook my head. She was crazy.

 

Me: I promise Vegas does not miss me. Vegas and I are not friends.

 

Vanessa: That’s because you haven’t given her a chance. She’s really sweet once you get to know her.

 

I could almost see her feigned pout from across the country.

A full grin took to my mouth as I quickly replied.

 

Me: You also said that about the five-inch heels you tried to get me to wear out last weekend. We all know how that turned out.

 

It had ended with a faceplant and a bloody nose and a promise to myself to never leave the house again.

So yeah. I was a clutz. As awkward as they came, and even nerdier than that. Luckily, Vanessa still loved me for it.

 

Vanessa: You sell yourself short. And we miss you. A lot. It’s no fun without you here.

 

She and our other two best friends had gone on a girls’ trip. Vanessa had tried to convince me to go. She should have known me well enough to know I would have tried to sneak away to the hotel room while they were slinking off to clubs, anyway. That I felt much more comfortable in the shadows rather than traipsing around all night under the neon lights.

 

Me: I’m as happy as pie. Don’t worry about me.

 

Vanessa: What flavor of pie? And just how happy is pie?

 

Laughter popped out. She really was crazy.

 

Vanessa: Seriously, I love and miss you. I wish you didn’t feel the need to hide. You’re way too amazing for that.

 

A wave of loneliness crested through my being. Sometimes I wished for that, too. That it was easier for me to step out. I was trying, but some steps were just too big, like spending a weekend out on the strip.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

At the sudden pounding at the door, my head snapped up from my phone and a high-pitched squeak escaped.

My attention flew to the open screen of my computer before it went darting around the living room as if I had gotten caught red-handed in the most salacious of acts.

I slammed down the lid in a bid to hide the evidence, set it aside, and pushed to my feet.

I tugged down my oversized sweater a little farther and fumbled across the living room, doing my best to still my rattled nerves.

For real—it was ridiculous that I reacted this way. That one single thing out of order, out of the expected, and anxiousness was making a play to ruin my day.

I was working on that. Embracing who I was and improving upon her, at the same time.

Chances were, it was someone making a delivery or trying to sell something, anyway. I didn’t need to get spun up over a little knocking.

With all the confidence I had, I popped up to peek through the peephole.

Oh, and there my confidence went. Bursting like a balloon cuddling up with a barbed-wire fence.

At the fuzzy sight, my heart sputtered, my knees went weak, and a whole sea of sweat gathered on the nape of my neck.

Oh my God.

Oh no.

Pulse racing, I tried to control my breaths that had started to come short and choppy.

I was gonna have a panic attack.

I sank back down onto my heels, attention darting from side-to-side, searching for an escape, only to jump about ten feet in the air when another round of battering took to the door. Only this time it was accompanied by a rough, “Open up.”

Silky and hard.

Was that even possible?

Okay, I had more important things to do than ponder the sexy tenor of his voice. Like figuring out how in the world I was going to get out of this.

“If you’re trying to go covert, you’re failing. I can hear you. Open up.”

Crap.

All the craps.

Fisting my hands, I attempted to even out my breathing, play it cool (yeah right), and I bit down on my bottom lip. Shaking out of control, I reached out to turn the lock. 

Warily, I cracked the door open an inch, only wide enough to peer out with one eye.

A big hand lifted and nudged the door open farther, sending me stumbling back.

Remember those weak knees? They just about fully gave up on me.

Blood drained from my head in favor of going for a stampede through my body, head rushed with a bout of dizziness and stupidity, spiraling me into that fantasy world where I liked to live before I could stop it.

It was all mixed up with the anxiety that raced and sped, hitting my limbs at full blast. It was a reaction I always had when I got nervous, tripping all over myself, nothing but a fidgeting, clumsy mess.

My mouth went completely dry, and I was pretty sure every brain cell I had blanked out.

Well, all but the ones that were taking him in as if he were a storm rising over a drought-parched desert.

Coming at full force.

“W-w-hat are you doing here?” I stuttered.

Kyle Love was standing in my doorway.

My best friend’s big brother.

In the flesh.

In all the glorious, gorgeous flesh that made up that six-foot-two body. All lean, sinewy muscle and easy arrogance that made his masculine face almost appear cute.

Dark eyes swept me. Head to toe. Way slower than seemed necessary. Chills of distress and attraction crawled across my flesh, as if all those feelings I’d tried to keep contained were climbing out from the recesses.

Oh God, I was going to pass out.

“Well, if it isn’t Kenna Myer. All grown up.” He said my name like a tease, smooth and soft and mocking.

I hadn’t seen him in two years. Not since mine and Vanessa’s college graduation. He’d come to our hometown for the ceremony and party afterward.

That was where I had my last memory of him.

This guy who’d been my first crush.

There was a reason they called it that, you know? When you got crushed for the first time, you got completely obliterated. Smashed. Demolished in a way you never could have anticipated.

Since then, I’d avoided him at all costs. It’d become my superpower. Only I hadn’t seen this encounter coming, and I was left without backups.

A smirk ticked up at the corner of his mouth.

“You look surprised. Weren’t expecting me?”

I could feel my own lips parting in response, dropping open as I thought about what it might be like to experience those lips against mine.

I bet they tasted as good as they looked.

Heat flashed and something heavy rolled around in my belly.

Damn it. Get yourself together, Kenna. You aren’t ever gonna know how that mouth tastes.

Because I was Kenna Myer and he was Kyle-Freaking-Love.

Because he was so out of my league that it caused me physical pain to look at him.

Regret and want twisted through my insides, and I shifted uneasily on my feet, fiddling with my hands, not sure what to do with them.

I needed to get him out of here and fast.

“Kyle. What are you doing here?” This time, I managed to make it come out like a demand.

That smirk ticked up higher, and he leaned against the door jamb as if he owned the place.

Oh, that’s right, he did.

Vanessa and I were only leasing the apartment from him while he was out of the country.

And there he was, filling up the doorway with those wide shoulders and massive presence. 

He arched a cocky brow. “What, you act like you aren’t happy to see me?”

Oh, was that ever a loaded question.

I fumbled back a step, needing to get free of the force that surrounded him.

Magnetic.

The man so compelling it felt impossible to look away, every loaded second drawing me in, my entire being attracted to his essence.

A couple seconds more, and he’d have to pry me off. I bet he’d love that.

“Um . . . well . . . Vanessa isn’t here,” I stammered. “She’s gone for the weekend. You’ll have to come back on Monday.”

A grin cracked his face, and his expression lifted in a challenge. “I’m afraid that’s going to be a problem.”

He glanced at the big bag he’d dropped on the ground at his feet, then returned the force of his gaze to me. Again, those brown eyes were taking a path over my body, gliding from my head and traipsing down.

It felt like a slow-slide of interrogation.

What in the world was he doing?

Redness clawed over every inch of my skin, and I was just then noting that I wasn’t wearing a bra, one of the shoulders of my sweatshirt draped off one side, my shorts so short under it that I bet it looked like I wasn’t wearing any at all.

My hair was ratted up in a messy twist high up on top of my head, a clump of toothpaste dried on the zit on my forehead.

Kill me now.

Clumsy, clueless, Kenna.

It’s what he’d call me every time I’d come stumbling into their kitchen, getting all out of sorts when I’d find him sitting at their high bar, shirtless, eating cereal like a rockstar.

Did rockstars eat cereal?

If they didn’t, they should.

He was the one who’d been clueless. Clueless that he was responsible for it all, evoking that reaction. Making me nervous and needy and ruffled and flustered.

Liable to trip.

Wishing when I landed, it’d be right into his big, capable hands. At least, I’d imagined a million times just how capable those hands would be.

Dropping my head, I tried to inconspicuously rub the toothpaste from my face.

No chance he would notice, right?

I was pretty sure the only thing I managed to do was smear it.

A rough chuckle rumbled around in his chest. “Oh, Kenna . . . how I’ve missed you.” 

I was pretty sure I got whiplash when he said it with the way my head snapped up, eyes going wide with his words. Then it was me who was taking in all his glory.

“Missed me?” It was a confused murmur that escaped my tongue without my permission.

“Oh, yeah.” There he went teasing me again, and there went my gaze taking him in.

Tight faded tee stretched across his broad chest and his jeans fitting him oh so right. Face chiseled and his jaw wide, stubble coating every inch.

Dark hair a mess and falling over his right eye.

Trouble to the Nth degree.

He was the definition of word porn, and it was spelled h-o-t.

One of those careless smirks that had driven me out of my mind for half my life slid onto his ridiculously gorgeous face. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” It was a pained whisper, and crap, I didn’t even mean to speak it, the words breaking free without my permission.

Thing was, I really couldn’t imagine him walking through this door, plopping himself on my couch, and putting his feet up and making himself at home.

Or maybe I just had imagined it too many times, and it felt too surreal and impossible and perfect at the exact same time.

And there went my mind, racing into that fantasy world.

A haggard breath sucked into my lungs, and another round of redness was flushing my cheeks as embarrassment streaked through my being.

It was stupid he was the only person in the world I’d wanted to be different for. I’d tried—tried to catch his eye—but the one time I’d conjured the courage on our graduation day, he’d smashed it in a one-second blow that I was pretty sure he didn’t even know he’d cast.

Light laughter tumbled from his full lips, and he set his hand on the door and pushed it open a little farther.

“Considering you’re sleeping in my house, I would think that would be nice of you.” Only he clearly wasn’t asking.

“What are you doing back already? Shouldn’t you still be overseas?” It was a last-ditch effort.

He wasn’t supposed to be back for two months. The man had been off taking over the world, his start-up booming, extending to the office he’d opened in Japan. Maybe I could encourage him to go back and finish his business.

That or convince him to come back on Monday when Vanessa returned. I’d heard the Spartan down the street had really great rooms. No doubt, he’d have no trouble finding someone to share the big, comfy bed.

Hell, I’d even be willing to foot the bill.

By then, I’d have plenty of time to pack my things so I could run for safety. Because I couldn’t possibly stay in the same house as the boy I’d loved since third grade. The fact he would never look at me that way just hurt too bad.

“Deal was done. I had no reason to stay, and I was missing home. Found myself on the next flight. And here I am.”

He grinned a wicked grin before glancing around the apartment.

Sunlight poured in through the big windows, reflecting on the soft pink and white accents Vanessa and I had decorated the living room and kitchen in, everything cozy and bright.

He visibly cringed. “Looks like you and my sister did a number on the place.”

A frown pulled to my face. “I . . . well . . . we didn’t think you’d mind. We did sign a lease for two years.”

He couldn’t have possibly thought we would leave all his stuff out? The last thing I’d wanted was a constant reminder of him. A tease of what I couldn’t have and wanted more than I ever should.

Reaching down, he plucked his bag from the ground.

“Don’t mind. All the pink might have caught me off guard, but a real man can deal. And you’re right. You do have the lease for two years. Don’t worry, Kenna, I always keep my promises.”

Why was he looking at me that way?

Intense and deep. Energy flashing through the air. Making it hard to breathe. Like maybe he wanted to reach out and touch me. Feel me the way I’d always wanted to feel him.

God, I loved to torture myself with the impossible, didn’t I?

Letting my imagination get the best of me. Teasing me with what could never be. I’d already learned that the hard way.

He shouldered by, stealing my breath, the brush of our skin sending a cascade of shivers tumbling down my spine as he pushed his way into the apartment.

A waterfall pooling in the middle of me. Pounding and overflowing.

“You won’t even notice I’m here.”

Um, he really was the clueless one, wasn’t he?

From over his shoulder, he sent me a smile that nearly dropped me to my knees, all one-sided dimple and plush lips and mischievous eyes.

“I’ll sleep on the couch. And I won’t make either of you pay rent for the rest of your lease, how’s that sound?”

How’s that sound?

It sounded like my worst nightmare.

“I’ll do you a favor, and I won’t even walk around in my underwear. I mean, unless you want me to.”

He winked, hitting me with all that reckless easiness that punched me in the gut. A fist right through my belly and gripping my stomach in a want and desire so intense that it physically hurt.

I swayed under the force of it, and my hand darted out to the back of the couch to keep myself from faceplanting on the hardwood floor.

“You . . . you can’t possibly stay here?” Panic started to set in when I realized he was serious, that this man was really going to be invading my space, my heart quickening to a boom, a deep, dark thunder rolling through my being.

“I mean, we have a whole schedule and our lives and you’re . . . you’re . . .”

I waved my hands in the air as if maybe that would be enough resistance to scare him away. Enough reason for him to leave.

I had to find some way to stop this from happening.

He was a danger to my sanity.

To my heart.

To my safe little world.

All it took was him stepping through the door and my entire world had become a bomb threat. I could already feel the ground trembling, sex and power and influence coming off of him in waves, so distinct I was sure you could bottle it and sell it for a billion bucks.

He’d always had that effect on me.

My senses perking whenever he came within a mile vicinity, every part of me getting needy like a lap dog that wanted to be petted.

I’d hoped once I’d moved out of our small town and into the city that it would have faded. That I would have outgrown this childish fascination.

How unfair was it that it’d only increased tenfold since he’d been away? Grown and expanded and become this palpable entity that I could feel glowing in my center. Begging for something that I could never have.

I had to get him out of there, and I had to do it fast.

He angled his head. “And I’m . . .?” he prodded when I trailed off into a stupor of silence. 

“You’re you.” My arms flailed outward, as if I were waving the evidence of him in his face. “You’re messy and arrogant and . . . and a boy.”

“A boy, huh?” Amusement rode out on his rough words, the man so pretty and cocky and infuriating.

“Yes, yes, a boy, and boys are totally not welcome.”

Oh my God.

I was twelve.

He crossed his arms over his chest, a smile twitching all over his magnificent face. “Are you finished?”

“Not even close. I mean, when we signed that lease, there was no mention that you might be back. I know it’s your apartment, and all, but what . . . what if we have company?”

I said the last as if it were sordid. And I wondered if he had the first clue that was the farthest from the truth when it came to me. Not that he’d care. But I was pretty sure Vanessa might care if he was invading her privacy.

That’s right.

I was doing this for her. For my friend who had always been there for me. At least that was what I was telling myself.

He plopped on the couch and grabbed the remote.

My mouth dropped open. “Kyle. Are you even listening to me?” I pled, feeling invisible, trying to be brave and stand up for myself.

“I’m not sure how I couldn’t be, considering you won’t stop talking. It’s been a long flight. I could use a little quiet.”

The audacity. He really was rude. How had I forgotten?

Huffing, I stamped my foot and started for him so I could grab the remote before he completely tuned me out.

I should have known better than to even move in his vicinity.

Should have known my clumsiness would get the best of me.

Because my little toe caught on the leg of the end table at the side of the couch, and oh my goodness, the pain. Splintering pain that shot up my toe and foot.

A shout of agony burst free of my mouth.

“Oh . . . shoot. Oh my goodness. Oh my . . . fuuuuudge.”

I was gasping for breath as I hauled my foot up, holding it in my hands to try to ease the sharp, breathtaking pain as I hopped around erratically on one foot, flying from one side and then to the other.

Kyle shot to standing, and before I could make sense of it, those big hands were on the outside of my arms. Holding me up.

Warmth spread across my flesh.

Molten chocolate.

At least, that’s what I’d always envisioned his touch would feel like. Only, it was so much better than that, fire that flamed up my skin and seeped in deep. This intense energy transferred in the connection. I wanted to melt into it. Get lost in the sensation.

Too bad I was the only one who felt the spark.

I whimpered with the pain that had started to throb, unable to stop tears from pricking at my eyes.

Leave it to me to make a complete fool of myself.

Without an ounce of effort, he lifted me by the arms and shifted me around, and he carefully sat me down on the couch.

“I think I’m dying,” I cried, sure there wasn’t a worse pain in all the world than stubbing your little toe.

Forget childbirth.

Or maybe I was just dying of embarrassment.

“Are you all right?” There was no missing the bit of laughter he was holding back as he knelt down in front of me.

Groaning, I threw my arm over my eyes. “No. I think I broke it. And don’t laugh at me.”

“You didn’t break it.” He tsked a little, and it was low and soft and made all kinds of funny things happen in my belly that I definitely shouldn’t be feeling right then. Especially with the way he was right there, in my space, the man prying my foot from my hold and cradling it in his hands.

Heat flamed, glowing from within, filling me with need, my thighs shaking with something else entirely than the anxiety that loved to hold me prisoner.

Studying my foot, he winced. “Shit . . . you did a number on this. It’s already swollen.”

My eyes flew open. “Are you serious? Oh, no . . . it’s broken, isn’t it? Why does this always happen to me?”

“Let me get some ice. Sit tight.”

“Like I’m going anywhere.”

He climbed to standing, though he didn’t move away. He just leaned over me, his presence thick and massive and overwhelming, so much so that my chest heaved with a needy pant. His mouth came up close to my ear. “And neither am I.” 

Shivers raced, stealing the blood from my head, replacing it with a swell of lightheadedness that wooshed through my senses.

Leaving me weak.

I tried to gather myself when he moved for the kitchen, all that cool easiness radiating from every step he took. Desperately, I tried not to stare over the back of the couch as he sauntered to the refrigerator, but there was nothing I could do but watch as he moved.

Confidence oozing from that body.

So easy.

Easy in a way I’d never known.

He filled a zippy bag with ice while I sat there shaking with apprehension, hating that I was this way. For just one day, I wanted to be normal. Confident and strong and brave.

Sexy.

Wield the kind of power this man wielded over me.

Just as fast as he’d gone, he was back with a dishtowel wrapped around the bag. He returned to kneeling in front of me, careful as he placed the bag on my aching toe.

I flinched at the cold, then gave in as he spread a big hand around my ankle and gently pressed the cold pack to my toe.

“There we go.”

Unable to bear his proximity, I reached for it.

Kyle nudged my hand away. “I’ve got it.”

“I can take care of myself,” I whispered, realizing I was begging. That I needed him to understand I couldn’t be this close to him and not feel as if I were coming apart. Missing something that I’d wanted for far too long.

Loving someone from afar was the cruelest sort of penalty. Watching them go on without you as if they’d never noticed you were there in the first place.

Rough laughter scraped up his throat. “Clueless Kenna.”

A hurt breath left me, and the tears I’d been trying not to cry welled in my eyes. I couldn’t believe he would still call me that. After all this time. What was more disturbing was that it still affected me this way.

He resituated my leg, propping it up on the couch and tucking a pillow under my ankle. My lungs squeezed in pain, and I was barely able to inhale, wondering how he could put me down and then take care of me so tenderly in the same breath.

That gaze swept up, dark eyes penetrating, and those shallow breaths raking from my lungs completely stalled out.

His mouth twisted up in a way that took my insides with it, everything getting tangled and tight, and he reached up and brushed back a piece of hair that had fallen in my face, his expression different than I’d ever seen it before.

His tongue swept across his plump bottom lip, the words a low, seductive rasp. “Clueless, Clueless Kenna.”

 

 

Two

Kyle

 

Clueless Kenna.

Clueless, awkward, sexy-as-fuck Kenna.

She was killing me.

Breaths coming from her lush mouth in these rough, choppy pants, the girl pinned under me on the couch, those brown eyes wide and unsure.

No doubt, I was making things up, but I could have sworn I saw them flaming with desire, too.

“Please, don’t call me that,” she whispered, her chest shaking.

Did she actually think I was putting her down?

A smile pulled to my mouth, and fuck yeah, I’d teased her growing up. That’s what boys did when they crushed on a girl so hard they went stupid.

“And what would you like me to call you?”

Baby sounded about right.

“My name works just fine. I do at least understand that.”

Apparently, she didn’t have the first clue how damn appealing that she was. Had anyone ever told her?

I’d nearly come undone when she’d opened the door, standing there in what I was pretty sure was a man’s sweatshirt that swallowed her whole.

Instantly, I was hard. Mind running with the idea that she didn’t have a stitch on underneath.

Completely bare.

Tits puckered and needy. As needy as the sweet spot between her thighs. Didn’t even care that she had toothpaste dried on her forehead. 

But half the time, it felt like she despised me. Like she wanted to split the second we got in the same room.

Which had always gotten to me since she was the kindest person I’d ever met. I’d spent years watching her give and give and give. Girl would ignore the insults and abuse and snubs that assholes would cast her way, turning right around and pouring out her goodness into the world when it didn’t deserve to receive the genuine inner beauty of this girl.

Was I that bad of a guy that I didn’t deserve any of that?

The fact my sister would cut my balls off if I even thought about touching her best friend only came in as a close second.

Only I thought about it.

A lot.

“How about . . . Cupcake Kenna?” That sounded nice, right? Not too forward? Because I was thinking she might not take too kindly to something along the lines of I want to get lost in your sweet cunt Kenna.

Too far?

Yeah.

She rolled her eyes like she thought I was mocking her.

If she only knew.

And now I was really, really hungry for a cupcake.

Fuck my life.

My tongue darted out to wet my lips, and I hovered, wavered, relished in the feel of her heart beating wild in the bare space between us.

Shit. I wanted to kiss her. Climb onto this couch and crawl all over her. Take her hard and then take her slow.

Like she saw the intention written on me, panic surged through her expression, and she started to fidget and get all flustered in that adorable way that set her apart from everyone.

She pressed her hand against my chest, then she jerked her hand away, like she’d thought better of that, too. “I’m fine now, Kyle. Honest. I’ve got it. You don’t have to worry about me.”

There she went, pushing me away, though when she did it, I swore I heard an undercurrent of sadness lacing the words.

I wanted to grab her hand and lock it to my chest so she could feel the crazy thing going down inside. So she could feel the way she affected me. Desperate to know if there was any chance she might feel the least bit the same.

Had told myself not to think about her on my way back to the States. Told myself it was never going to happen. To fucking forget it.

But that didn’t come close to stopping the fantasies from assaulting me. The feelings that annihilated me the second I saw her standing at the door.

“What if I’ve always worried about you?”

A frown pulled across her brow. “You’ve always been full of yourself, Kyle Love, but I never took you for a liar.”

It was my turn to frown. “You really think I don’t care about you? You’ve been Vanessa’s best friend since you were a little girl. You’re basically family.”

She shifted her gaze away when I claimed it, like maybe she didn’t know how to accept that truth.

My sister was crazy protective over her. I got why. Those nasty bitches in high school couldn’t exactly be considered nice. I’d gone to bat for her more than a couple of times, though I doubted it made any difference. Mean girls were always mean girls. Fucking sucked, but that was the life of high school, wasn’t it?

But we weren’t in high school anymore. Hadn’t been for a long time. And Kenna? Even amid all that bullshit? She’d still been generous to everyone. Kind and considerate and thoughtful. Going out of her way to make someone smile.

Yeah.

She was drop-dead gorgeous. The kind of girl that would make me trip all over myself. But it was her humility that had always made her shine. It was the way she’d stop to take care of a stranger without thought. The way she’d go out of her way to do the right thing, without asking for anything in return.

She was the real deal.

A scowl pulled to her adorable face, turned-up nose and full cheeks, a pink bow for lips.

She laughed a disbelieving sound. “You don’t have to pity me, Kyle. I get it. And I’m fine. Just . . . go do your thing, and I’ll do mine. I’ll be sure to get out of your way as soon as I can.”

This time, I did grab her hand, holding it tight. Heat licked and flamed. I was a second from losing it, confessing every fucking thing that I kept bottled up tight. “I’m not here to kick you out of your own damn apartment. You’re staying.”

She pried her hand free, a look I couldn’t make out crossing her face. “One of us is leaving.”

I guessed she really did hate me. Had no idea what I’d done, but I’d seen the way she’d looked at me for all those years.

Like just being in my presence made her want to puke.

Let me tell you, it made a teenaged boy feel super awesome. Did wonders for his self-confidence.

While other girls were throwing themselves at me, the one I wanted wouldn’t even look me in the eye. On some level, I got that she was shy, but the man in me hadn’t gotten it at all.

Frustration bled into my bones, and I edged up closer, getting right in her face. “Sorry, cupcake, but that’s not gonna happen. This is your home, and you’re not going anywhere. And I’m not going anywhere, either. Get used to it.”

A smirk ticked up on the corner of my mouth, and I tried to lighten the mood that was feeling far too heavy.  “Besides, what would I do with all this pink shit?”

Hesitation brimmed around her before a small smile was pulling at the corner of her mouth. “I guess I would have to take it with me. Although I’m pretty sure your sister would fight me over it. You know how much she hates people messing with her things.”

For the first time, there was a softness to her words, and it made me feel like a king that maybe my attempt had worked.

“I bet she would. Every time I even touched her toys as a kid, she lost her mind.” Affection filled my voice. “You’d have thought I’d started a world war when I hid her Barbie dolls.”

A hint of amusement touched her cheeks, her shyness so damn sweet. “I’m pretty sure that might have had something to do with the fact that when we found them, they all were wearing the wrong heads. Poor Ken had boobs.”

“Never said I wasn’t creative.”

“Creative? I’d call that psychotic. Dismembering poor, innocent dolls. Isn’t that a sign of a horrible disorder?”

God, she was cute when she was playful. When she let go a little bit.

I could feel the wistful grin tugging at my mouth as I stared down at her. Getting lost in those brown eyes, in the way they flitted over my face, jumping from my eyes to my mouth and away, like she didn’t know where to look.

Shit, I wanted to lean in closer. Drink her in.

Dip in. Dive in.

I edged closer. Closer and closer.

Fuck.

If I erased any more space between us, I’d be crawling on top of her, pushing her over a line she clearly didn’t want me crossing.

I stood before I did something stupid.

“So . . . what do you want to do today?”

Smooth, Kyle. Smooth. You’d think I was back to being fifteen rather than a twenty-seven-year-old man. But when it came to Kenna? The rules went out the window. The girl different than any other woman I’d dealt with before.

Her attention darted to the computer sitting on the coffee table. Almost like she was terrified of it. She peeked up at me. “I have work to do.”

Right.

Vanessa had told me Kenna taught on-line school because she had trouble standing in front of a group of people. Fucking sucked. I mean, I respected her choice. Got it on some level. But it had to be brutal, completely exhausting, letting your fears rule your life.

I glanced around, wanting to say things I probably shouldn’t say. To tell her she was amazing and wonderful, tell her about all the things I’d observed over the years that made her the best person I’d ever met, and that it was time she shed that shell, embraced who she was.

But did I really have the right to give that kind of advice when I’d never had to walk in her shoes?

I needed to get away from this girl before I kept pushing it. Hell, I’d been back for all of five minutes, and I’d already pushed her harder than I ever had. Climbed right over the boundaries I’d set up when it came to Kenna Myer.

Maybe I was just tired of ignoring the way I felt about her. No matter how many girlfriends I’d had, how many one-nights and flings, this feeling didn’t seem to know how to go away.

“All right, then . . . I’m going to grab a shower and let you get to work.”

Redness streaked up her cheeks, and I got the sense that she was actually imagining me naked.

Fuck.

Not helping things.

“I’ll try to stay out of your way.”

She looked at me like she thought I was telling her a lie. Two of us completely aware of the other. Every step and every breath.

And I was wondering again if maybe she felt me, too.

I grabbed my bag from the floor and headed for the shower, turned on the heat as high as it would go, and climbed into the steam surrounded by the scent of citrus and more of the pink she’d decorated the place in.

And I jerked it harder than I ever had.

 

~

 

So, the jerking off hadn’t helped my situation at all.

I’d tried to keep myself occupied the entire day, let her work in peace as she’d graded freshman language arts essays. She’d sat on the couch with the sunlight pouring over her, her laptop balanced on her crisscrossed legs, the girl looking like she was posing for some some kind of perfect Instagram shot.

Hashtag hot nerd. 

I’d pretended to be busy on my own laptop at the small kitchen table, answering emails and scheduling appointments for next week, but my attention kept drifting to her. Getting locked on the soft profile of her face. At the way the lush dark locks tumbled down her neck. At the way she moved her lips as she read the essays, so into it, I could almost feel her vibrating.

Once the sun had dimmed and begun to set, I’d ordered a pizza for us to share after she’d explained she still had a couple hours left of work.

Now, I brushed my teeth and pulled on some sleep pants, figuring I’d make good on my promise about not walking around in my underwear, all the while wondering what she might do if I threw all rationale out the window and went for it. 

Blowing out a strained sigh toward the mirror, I tried to shake off the disorder I was feeling. I’d barely been here a day, and this was already proving impossible.

I headed out into the hall. Her bedroom door was resting open on the jamb, a light burning around the rim. She was probably in there, changing, getting ready to climb under the covers.

I could only picture her doing it. Bare legs and full breasts and messy hair.

Shit.

I wasn’t really up-to-date with proper roommate etiquette, but I was pretty sure picturing them naked was a no-go.

Slipping by her door, I turned the corner into the main room, heading for the kitchen to grab one of the beers I’d seen in there earlier. Most of the lights had been cut, the space only illuminated by the dim lights mounted under the cabinets.

My heart jumped into my throat when I noticed the silhouette of a body standing at the sink facing away.

A lush, curved, gorgeous body.

I kept my footsteps quiet as I started around the high bar that sectioned off the kitchen from the living room. She was gulping down a glass of water, totally oblivious to the fact that I was there.

Until she wasn’t.

Until her spine stiffened and awareness flooded from her in surging waves, a vibration coming off her that made me question if I really was the only one who felt this crazy attraction.

If I was the only one who was crazy with lust.

Crazy with need.

She was still wearing the sweatshirt that fell off one shoulder, the delicate skin of her neck bare.

I had the overwhelming urge to press my nose to the slope of it. Inhale and lick and suck.

Instead, I kept myself in check and stopped an inch away.

Okay, in check was stretching it because I leaned. So close I could almost taste her flesh, the aura of this girl making me feel like I was standing in the sun.

I inhaled, filling my lungs with her scent.

Clean, crisp lime wrapped in vanilla.

Like she’d rolled around in a bed of those little white blossoms.

Shit, I wanted to do a little rolling around, too.

“Kenna.” Her name was a rough plea from my mouth.

Do you feel this?

Shivers tremored through her body, rising across her flesh, and she slowly turned around. Immediately, she backed into the counter, not shocked to find me there but somehow terrified at the same time.

She swiped the back of her hand over the droplets of water that clung to her lips.

An impossibly sexy move that she had no idea she’d perfected.

“Hey, K-k-kyle . . . I . . . I was just going to bed,” she said, flustered and sweet and shy. I wanted to dip my fingers into the well of it, stir it up, watch her bloom.

She started to slide out around me. I stepped in her way. Her eyes widened with surprise. A timid animal that was trapped.

I cleared my throat, not sure what to say, but knowing I needed to give her something.

I’d waltzed in like an arrogant dick. Making demands. But I knew her well enough to know she would have sent me packing if I’d given her another option.

“I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you being cool with me being here.”

Incredulity filled her eyes. “You didn’t leave me much of a choice, did you?”

I angled my head her direction. “You really want me to leave? If you really, really want me to go, say it, and I will. Don’t get me wrong, I want to stay.”

Fuck, I wanted to stay.

“But if you really don’t want to be around me that bad? I’ll leave right now.”

Distress swirled around her being, the girl squirming, casting her gaze away before she finally looked back up at me. “No. I really don’t. It’s just sometimes hard for me to accept strangers being in my space.”

I inched closer, eradicating all but a breadth between us, the air growing dense and thick. A frenzy of energy swirled around her, nerves and anxiousness, and I swore, need.

I could taste it.

Feel it.

Wanted to drown in it.

I dipped in closer. “Kenna. You think I’m a stranger?”

I said it like a question. Hoping to God she’d take the step, make the move, or at least give me some kind of indication she might want me the way I wanted her.

Tell me that she recognized me.

Panic parted her mouth, and she swallowed hard. Then she fumbled to duck out from under me, spinning around with her hands pushed out like a shield between us. “I, um, so . . . I need to go to bed. Goodnight.”

She spun back around so fast that she tripped over her feet, stumbling forward, catching herself just before she fell. Her hand went up to tug at a piece of hair that had gotten loose from the pile on top of her head, embarrassment radiating from her as she beelined for her room.

The door clicked shut with a finality that had me pressing my hands to my face, wanting to punch myself in my own dick.

That did not go well.

God damn it.

Frustrated, I went for the fridge. Jerking open the door, I grabbed a bottle and popped off the cap. I tossed it into the trash and started to head out, only to pause when I noticed she’d left her laptop sitting on the counter.

Open an inch.

Like she’d still been working on it and carried it in while she got a drink of water.

I glanced over my shoulder, wondering if I should take it to her.

Hell, knowing I should.

I angled back so I could see down the short hall, and the light had gone off in her room.

Guessed that was all the go I needed to start nudging the screen up, just a fraction, wanting to feel closer to her, understand her better, maybe read one of the essays that had entranced her all day so I could see exactly what it was that made her tick. What put those twitchy, adorable smiles on her face and made her teeth clamp down on her bottom lip.

Okay, fine, I was being a nosy fucker.

My brow pinched when I caught a glimpse of what was on the screen.

Not an essay.

Pulse thudding, I glanced over my shoulder again, wondering what the fuck I was doing when I lifted the lid the rest of the way.

The words glowing on the screen came into full view.

I scanned over them.

It was a blog, and a recent post was up, an answer to a question that had been posted left halfway completed, the curser still blinking like a beacon in the night, something about dealing with social fear and how it can be debilitating.

What the fuck?

Unease curled through my being, and I knew I should slam it closed, but there was nothing I could do but note the blog website address as I lowered the screen to where it’d been left.

I should let it go. I knew I should. But there was an itching inside of me that couldn’t be contained, and I opened my phone and pulled up the website as I moved back to the couch. I sank down onto the blanket I’d dragged out from the hall closet and ticked into another blog post.

I read it.

Then I read another.

And another.

Until hours had passed and my mind spun and my spirit thrashed.

I got lost as I read about a girl who was beautiful in every way.

Inside and out.

Just like I’d always known she’d been. What had really attracted me to her in the first place. That shy beauty ushering me up to a cliff and her kindness pushing me over the edge.

A girl who confessed to being fearful and anxious and prone to panic attacks in large groups.

Giving and loving and hopeful in spite of it all.

A girl who had grown into a woman who had managed to get her teaching degree despite her worry and doubt.

Hand shaking, I clicked into another post, titled Something About a Hot Guy. I wanted to cringe, knowing I was really invading her privacy as she opened up about her trouble meeting men. How she confessed to being a virgin because she didn’t have the first clue how to get close to a man, let alone, let one touch her.

Then I tripped over the next words, heart pressing against my ribs so hard I was pretty sure I heard a crack.

Words that said she was in love with her best friend’s big brother, and being unable to admit it was killing her inside.

Fuck me.