14.5

Brooke POV

As we did last week, we took two Ubers so we could drop Liv off at her place. As soon as she gets out of the car and I'm alone with Kyle, the atmosphere becomes awkward.

He is silent and keeps looking out the window. I don’t know what to say to get us back to normal, so I imitate him. I don’t want to apologize because I didn’t do anything wrong, but I wish I could erase the distance that seems to grow with each minute of oppressive silence. As if that weren’t enough, I still have all the confusion inside me regarding what happened with Raffi.

On one hand, I felt extremely guilty for using him to prove my point and involving him in my argument with Kyle. On the other hand, the way my body responded to his touch—I can’t lie to myself—it wasn’t just any kiss.

But Kyle is also responsible for our current situation. He was the one who started it, if you think about it. I turn my face to him, and the moonlight illuminates his profile, making his blonde hair look silver.

“Ky…” I whisper, but it sounds more like a shout in the silence.

“Hm?” he responds without turning his face.

“We’ve arrived,” the driver announces, and Kyle asks him to go through the gate and drop us off at the entrance.

As soon as the car stops, I thank him and get out. I go into the house and head straight to my room. I’m almost closing the door when Kyle appears in the hallway with an unreadable expression. I can’t go to sleep like this; I need to at least apologize. After all, when I needed him, he opened his home to me, and how did I repay him? By kissing his best friend in front of him. A friend who lives at the end of the hallway.

“Kyle,” I call out to him again, and he stops in front of his door. “I’m sorry.”

He walks towards me, stopping at the door frame.

“There’s no need to apologize, Brooke.”

“There is,” I start.

“You were right, you were right,” he interrupts me. “I was jealous.”

What? How so?

“Jealous of Raffi?” I ask, as a renewed wave of guilt washes over me. I can’t believe I’m going to cause friction in their friendship. “I was just being petty.”

“It might have started as pettiness, but you know it meant much more.” The treacherous voice speaks up in my mind again.

“No,” he denies, and I try to hold back my relief until he explains everything properly. “I’m serious, I would never be jealous of my brother, of any of them. I trust them with everything I have and everything that matters to me.”

He shakes his head from side to side.

“I was jealous of that idiot over there.” Kyle places a hand on each side of the door. “That’s not why I stopped him; he really isn’t worth anything, and I only interfered for your own good. But yes, I was jealous. So your complaint had merit, and I didn’t want to admit it,” he concludes, lowering his head.

Kyle was jealous of me. How much did I drink after all? Did I fall while dancing and end up in an alternate reality?
I take a step forward, closing the distance between us and lifting his face with one hand, the intensity of his gaze is almost a physical presence, a caress that I feel on my skin.
"We both made mistakes, can we say we're even?" My thumb is so close to his mouth that I can't suppress the impulse and I trace the shape of his lips. I have no idea where this courage comes from, but I'll use it while it lasts. Tomorrow, I'll deal with the consequences.
"Brooke," Kyle takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. "If you don't want to call me a Neanderthal again tonight, I suggest you don't tease me. My self-control has its limits, Sunshine." I make the opposite movement with my finger, a light touch, barely touching, with anxiety and expectation mixing in my body.
He smiles and the short beard of the day tickles my palm. Kyle straightens up and takes a step, forcing me back and into my room. He strokes my cheek with his thumb, sending an electric current straight to my belly that throbs in response. Kyle leans in, his nose touching mine and the air seems to grow heavy around me, I bite my lower lip and his gaze is drawn to the movement like a magnet. “I want to kiss you,” he says. I can’t speak, 14-year-old Brooke is running circles in my brain, doing the victory dance and holding up a banner that says, “It’s my moment, I asked you to.” Kyle slides his nose down my cheek to my ear. “Can I?” I nod, still unable to articulate any words. His lips claim mine in a feverish kiss, his tongue demands entry and when it invades my mouth, it turns my world upside down. Kyle's hands slide down my back until they cup my ass and press my body against his, making me moan against his lips, and the satisfied grunt I receive in response makes me melt.
My brain finally manages to send commands to my arms, which take the opportunity to trace every little bit of his abs and record them in my memory. I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him closer, wanting more.
I suck on his lip as one of Kyle's hands finds its way to my hair, holding it and keeping me still, at his mercy. And there's no other place I'd rather be right now.
The moment I feel something hard against my belly, he pulls away.
"This has to be a dream," I declare, and his expression lights up.
"I can assure you it's not, Brooke." My attention is on the evidence of how real this is, and by the gods, Kyle is big.
He gently touches my chin before giving me a peck on the lips.
"Sweet dreams, Sunshine. — He turns and leaves my room, taking care to close the door.

I stand in the same spot, wondering in which universe I could possibly fall asleep now?