I puff out an exasperated breath. “I gotta go. You know I do.”
“No, you don’t. You’re almost eighteen now. You can do whatever you want. He’s not your real dad, Bren.”
“Yeah, but if I wanna place to live I gotta. Once I get that apprenticeship and save some money I’ll be outta there. Besides, you worry your pretty face too much. I’ll be fine.”
My words don’t seem to help. I reach up and stroke his cheek with my thumb, wanting his smile to return. He grabs the fabric of my hoodie and pulls me closer.
“I’m scared of losin’ you. To juvie. Or if you keep doing this, to prison.”
I swallow, heat flushing my skin as his gaze pings between my eyes and mouth. I want him so bad when he says nice shit like that. I suck in a breath as I lean closer, wanting to give in. His lips are like magnets. But there’s no going back if I do this.
On trembling legs, I slide my hand around the back of his neck and pull him to me.
The kiss is clumsy and too hard, and our teeth clash. I consider running, but then Ky whimpers, and kisses me back, sucking my bottom lip between his. I moan, pulling our bodies closer, wanting to destroy any remaining space separating us. He licks across my lips, and I open for him, seek him out with my own tongue. And holy fuck the feeling is insane! The kiss takes over every cell of my body—the softness of his lips, his sweet taste, and his desperate tongue.
“Oh fuck, Ky,” I groan when he finally allows me to surface for air. But then he’s kissing me again and again and I think I might die. I’m already hard, but it’s not sex that I want. It’s more of this.
I push him away, fear gripping my insides. “We should get home,” I say, panting. “It’s gettin’ late.”
Ky smiles brighter than the sun. “We’re definitely doin’ that again,” he says, then shoves me in the shoulder. “Don’t try tellin’ me you didn’t like it.” He looks down at my crotch then gives me a quick squeeze over my trackies.
We start walking again, my heart a swollen mess. Our hands brush but I’m not giving him two things in one night. Ky’s got me feeling all kinds of shit. He’s smirking beside me I just know it, the cocky motherfucker.
Ky stops suddenly, peering down at the sand, and then bends over to pick something up.
“What is it?” I ask. He holds it up to show me. It’s an unusually large, periwinkle shell. “Since when do you look at shells?”
Ky slips it into his pocket and resumes walking. “I don’t normally. But this one’s special.”
“Why?”
Ky grabs my chin and plants a quick kiss on my lips. “Just because.”
“You’re so fuckin’ gay,” I say, picking up speed. Maybe I’m still trying to run from this, from him. From myself. But, truth be told, I don’t think I have it in me anymore.
Chapter 6
Kyle
Now
It’s been the longest, most agonising two days since my argument with Bren outside his showroom. I keep getting lost in my thoughts—motionless, looking into an empty washingmachine, sitting in the car in the garage, or staring endlessly at my laptop screen, lost in memories from two decades ago.
It’s taken every ounce of willpower to stop myself from texting or calling, but, as time passes, my anxiety continues to grow. I’d hoped Bren might reach out, but if he isn’t going to, then I need to think rationally about my next move.
Yesterday, I spent a couple of hours on the internet, then made phone calls to see if my current qualifications would be sufficient to return to work as a paramedic. Surprisingly, I only need to do a short refresher course to update my CPR and other essential skills. The next available course commences in two weeks, but the application is due tomorrow.
The bathroom renovation began this morning, and, while I feel certain Jeff and the other two men are trustworthy, I can’t fully relax with strangers in the house. So, I take my laptop outside for some privacy and get to work on my application. James doesn’t know about it, and I have no intention of telling him. The course is during business hours, which is no problem because I can organise a mum from school to help with pickups and after school activities. James will be none the wiser.
When I step back inside later, Jeff is calling for me.
“Kyle, are you around, mate?”
I pop my head into the living room to find him heading back upstairs. “Sorry Jeff, I was outside. What’s up?”
“Oh, hey man. Brendan just called. He said there might be a delay on the feature tile you chose, which could add a few extra days to the reno. He wants to know if that’s okay or if you want to choose a different tile?”
“Why didn’t Brendan just call me himself?” I ask, miffed.
