“I thought you never dated anyone.” Her brow puckers and her nose scrunches up. It’s adorably cute.
“Whitney and I have never dated.” There’s no polite way of putting this. “We’re casual fuck buddies, who generally sleep together whenever we see one another. It’s usually at family events, but there have been a few occasions where I’ve hooked up with her when I was in New York for the weekend. She lives there,” I explain.
“And that’s been going on for years?” Her facial expression gives nothing away so I can’t tell if she’s disgusted or what she’s thinking.
“Yeah. On and off. I ended things completely over four years ago because she caught feelings and I didn’t feel the same way, but I hit a rocky patch, and we started up again.” I’m not proud of how weak I was. And it wasn’t fair to Whitney because I see now that I gave her false hope, but I’ve always been a selfish prick.
“Are you still seeing her now?” Presley withdraws her hand from mine, crossing her arms around her body.
“No. I was with her for the last time the week before I met you. I told her that night that we were done for good. She hasn’t taken it well.”
“You might not want to hear this, Kent, but youhada relationship with that girl. It doesn’t matter what label you gave it. She’s been a part of your life for years.”
I vehemently shake my head. “I didn’t. We never went on dates, and we were never exclusive. She’s like the female equivalent of me. She fucks around, gets messed up, and I don’t care what she claims to feel; she is only clinging to me because I’m familiar, because I understand her, to a point.”
“Tell yourself whatever you want, but the truth is, you had a relationship with Whitney, Kent. It might not have been traditional, but you have been with each other on and off for years. That’s not insignificant.”
“It was fucking sex!” I yell, getting frustrated she’s trying to make this into something it’s not. “That’s all. I don’t love her, and she doesn’t love me.” I know Whitney thinks she does, but she’s fucking delusional.
“Can you honestly tell me you don’t care for her at all?”
I straighten up as I glare at her because this is not how I saw this conversation going. “It’s almost like you want me to love her.”
She shakes her head, and waves of her gorgeous glossy hair cascade around her shoulders. “That’s not it. I just want you to be honest about what she means to you because I’ve been truthful with you about Chris.”
“That is an entirely different scenario,” I scoff.
“Is it though?” She cocks her head to the side, looking contemplative. “Because it sounds to me like circumstances threw you two together and that she was a kind of lifeline for you too.”
My initial instinct is to completely deny her claims, but there’s a kernel of truth in her words. My tongue darts out, wetting my dry lips, and I wonder why the fuck I thought it was a good idea to raise the subject of Whitney. “Circumstances did throw us together, and there was a codependency there, but that’s where the similarities end, Pres.”
I rub the back of my neck. “Whitney was an escape. Like a comfort blanket for a brief time,” I acknowledge, “but she has never been a lifeline for me. I haven’t confided anything of importance to her because that’s not who we were to one another. And I do care about her, but only because there is history there. I wouldn’t even call her a friend. She’s not someone I want in my life. We’re toxic for one another.” I lean forward, peering deep into her eyes, wanting her to see this truth. “I have never loved her, and she never made me feel the way you do.”
She scoots closer on the couch, until our feet touch. “How do I make you feel, Kent?”
“Like I’m walking on water. Like there is light at the end of the tunnel for me. Like I might be worthy of you. Like I could be happy with you. You consume my thoughts, and I just want to be with you because you fill me full of feelings I never thought I’d ever get to experience. We haven’t even had sex, and it doesn’t matter because I just want to exist with you.”
It’s official. I have now traded in my man card and turned into Kyler.
I’m so screwed.
She grabs my face and kisses me hard. “I just want to exist with you too,” she whispers over my mouth. “Even if the thought terrifies me as much as it excites me.”
I wind my fingers into her hair, holding the nape of her neck. “Why are you scared?” I know why I am, and I want to see if it’s the same for her.
“Because you have the potential to make me feel so damn much, Kent Kennedy. This feels intense in a way I’ve never felt with anyone before, and I’m scared you’ll hurt me.”
“I feel those things too, and I’m shitting myself half the time.” I pull her to me, needing to taste her lips. I kiss her softly, drowning in all things Presley, and the same flux of emotions churns inside me, like every time I’m with this woman.
“I’ve thrown shade at all my brothers for being pussy-whipped,” I admit. “Scoffed at their declarations of love and looked down my nose at the idea that it could exist for me. You’re challenging my entire belief system, Presley baby, and I’m scared I will let both of us down because that’s what I’m good at.” I avert my eyes, not able to look at her when the truth of those words seeps from every pore.
“Kent.” She holds my face tighter, forcing my gaze to hers. “We’ve both been shaped, in different ways, by our past experiences, but that doesn’t mean we’re doomed to fail. Being aware of our pitfalls means we can work to avoid them. All I ask is that you try and that you don’t deliberately set out to hurt me, and I will promise you the same.”
“You are too fucking good for me, you know that?” I press my forehead to hers. “You are so beautiful, and smart, and compassionate, and strong, and I want to be worthy of you. I really fucking do.”
“I could say those same things about you, and it kills me to hear you speaking about yourself like that. I’ve already seen that you are more than the person you are portrayed to be. More than the person you think you have to be.” Her eyes stab mine with fierce determination. “Give me your truths, Kent. Even if those truths hurt. At least it will be real.”
“I will try.” That is as much as I can promise right now. “And the last thing I want to do is hurt you. This feels like the start of something special, and I promise I will do everything in my power not to fuck it up.”
