Book Read Free

Accidentally on Purpose 6 Book Box Set

Page 13

by L. D. Davis


  I walked away from him.

  “Where are you going?” he said from a few feet behind me.

  “I’m going home.” I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Alone.”

  “I’m not ready to leave,” he said it as if that gave him some kind of control, which made me angrier.

  “Stop following me.”

  “How are you going to get home?” he asked tauntingly.

  I stopped and turned around so suddenly, he almost ran into me.

  “I know you think I’m inferior, Kyle, but I’m not incompetent. Dick.”

  He looked surprised and started to speak, but I walked away. He didn’t follow me again.

  ***

  It was well over an hour before my phone started blowing up, and by then I was on a train to Philly. I think that he thought that I would calm down and go back, but he underestimated me when I was pissed and hurt. I sent each of his calls straight to voicemail. He texted several times, too, but I didn’t answer those either. I didn’t care if Kyle was angry or worried.

  I refused to cry, even though I had a strong urge to do so. I intended to stay angry so that I could break the shit off. I really did have strong feelings for Kyle but I couldn’t continue down that path. It wasn’t going to end well for me, I just knew it.

  In the back of a cab from Philadelphia to my house, I checked my phone again. Kyle had called forty-seven times, I shit you not. Who does that! I decided to answer one of thirty-three text messages.

  I’m in NJ. I don’t want to see you or talk to you right now.

  I turned my phone off so I wouldn’t be lured into a texting fight. When I got home, I quickly packed a bag and left before Kyle could show up. I couldn’t just lock him out since I was stupid enough to give him a key.

  Stupid Emmy.

  ***

  I decided that I needed to get a lot of stuff off of my chest. I turned my phone on long enough to again lie to Luke. I told him I was having issues with my phone to make up for not answering any phone calls or text messages. I did let him know that my fake plans fell through and that I was spending the weekend with Donya instead. Even though I wasn’t mad at him, I really needed some time without either guy.

  “What is that?” Donya pointed at my duffel bag when she opened her door.

  “I need to stay here for a night, maybe two,” I said, walking past her into her apartment.

  “Is your crazy mom in town already? There should be posters up across the county to warn people she’s coming.”

  “It’s not my mom, but if it helps you and the rest of the county to know, she will be here the first week of June.”

  “That’s good to know. What are you doing here?” She wasn’t being mean. Donya was always straightforward, at least with me she was.

  “I have proverbial skeletons in my proverbial closet.” I said with a heavy sigh.

  We sat down on her couch. I propped my feet up on her coffee table and sighed again before spilling the beans.

  “I’m sleeping with Kyle.”

  “Your boss? The dick?” She gaped at me. “Shut up!”

  “Okay. Reactions like that…not helping,” I said, frowning.

  “I’m sorry, but…damn, Emmy!”

  “Not helping!” I reiterated.

  “Okay, okay. I will try to contain myself through your story.” She stared at me expectantly.

  I felt bad for not telling her sooner, especially after having it out with her more than once over the years for her not being forthcoming about her personal life. But it was better late than never.

  “Okay,” I began. “It all started the Thursday night before that big storm, in December.”

  “That far back?” She screeched. “Shut up!”

  I glared at her. She quickly apologized.

  “It started that Thursday, at the bar…”

  It took me awhile to sort through the sordid details aloud, and even though D didn’t yell “shut up” anymore, she still asked a lot of questions.

  “Wow,” she said when I had finished.

  “I feel like such a dirty whore,” I said, unable to keep the trembling out of my voice. I didn’t stop myself from crying this time.

  Donya rubbed my back for a few minutes, letting me cry.

  “Emmy, you’re not a whore,” she said softly. “Whores get paid.”

  “Kyle’s my boss. Technically, he’s paying me,” I sobbed.

  She looked thoughtful. “You’re right. You are a dirty whore.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Late the next morning, I followed the smell of coffee from the guest bedroom to the kitchen. Donya was sitting at the kitchen table with her own cup of coffee doing homework. She had been taking online courses for years, but she was finally close to getting her degree.

  When we were only fifteen years old, Donya was discovered by a modeling agent as she ate cotton candy and other junk food while we were strolling down the boardwalk. With her long legs, unusual, but striking face, and chocolate colored skin, she was definitely model material. She moved to New York a few months later to try it out, and less than a year after that her career suddenly took off. Before any of us could fully grasp it, her face was popping up in magazines. She was walking the runway for Fashion Week in Paris and taking on small roles in movies.

  For years, Donya was all over the place, literally. I was proud of her, so I tried not to take it personally when she didn’t have time for me. I know she sacrificed a lot for her success. She lost friends, time with family, and romantic relationships because of her career. More importantly, she lost time for herself. She didn’t get to have a graduation or go to a prom. She even started driving later than most kids because she was too busy to get her license.

  On her twenty-eighth birthday, Donya stopped taking work. She followed through on prior commitments, but for the most part, she hung up her runway shoes and moved on. She married a major league baseball player named Jerry and started going to school full time. I was happy for her, and I was happy for me. I had my best friend back.

  “Are those my boots?” She frowned as she looked down at the black leather Louis Vuitton knee high boots on my feet. Her eyes followed the boots up my legs to the little black skirt I was wearing. “And my skirt?”

  Typically, I wouldn’t have been able to squeeze into her skinny-girl clothes. We were shaped differently. She had a few inches on me, and though she was curvy for a model, my curves were more compact. The only reason I could fit into her skirt was because it was stretchy.

  “I didn’t pack pretty clothes and I wanted to feel pretty and girly today,” I said defensively as I poured coffee into a mug. I wouldn’t have put it past her to tackle me to the floor and forcibly remove her boots and skirt.

  “You know that you can afford your own designer boots, probably a little better than I can,” she said pointedly.

  I snorted. “Probably not better than you can. I have a good deal of my own money, but I don’t have a major league baseball star husband that brings home millions. Besides, I missed out on years and years of not being able to share things with you like other best friends do.” I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

  She did a growling sigh and muttered “Someday your subtle guilt trips won’t work anymore.”

  I sat down at the table across from her and slowly crossed one leg over the other, admiring the boots. “Until then, my sister, I will lay them on thick.”

  We were quiet for a long time. Donya had thrown herself back into her work and I found myself staring into my coffee mug trying to make sense of my life. I had done a lot of stupid things in my life, but falling in love with two guys at once was definitely an all-time high of stupidity. If it wasn’t for Kyle’s admission that he couldn’t dump Jessyca, I honestly wasn’t sure how long I would have kept it up. I loved both men for different reasons and didn’t want to let go of either of them. But Kyle pretty much decided it for me at the aquarium.

  “How long do you plan to hide from your men?”
Donya asked without looking up.

  “How long can I stay here?” I asked with a wry smile.

  Her brow furrowed. “You can’t run away from this. Well…you can, but it won’t solve anything. You’re going to have to make a decision eventually, Em. You’ll have to choose one and let one go.”

  “I know,” I whispered. “But that’s harder than it sounds, Donya. You’ve never been in a position where you had to choose between two men you love because you were always much smarter than me.”

  I watched as her hand froze in the middle of a word she was writing. Her whole body tensed up and she gripped the pencil so hard I thought it would crack in half.

  “I have had to choose,” she whispered.

  I was only mildly surprised. We had spent many years apart, and though we tried to talk often, there was still a lot we didn’t know about each other. Also, Donya has always been more closed off with her feelings, and rarely spoke about anything that pained her. I had no idea when she had to choose, but I guessed it was when she was working and surrounded by beautiful men all of the time. I would have to get the details at another time. I just wanted to know one thing for the time being.

  “Did you choose right?” I asked her.

  She looked up at me, with her mouth open, and her lovely face frozen like a doe caught in headlights. I leaned forward a little, because I had the feeling she was about to reveal something to me.

  “I—” was all she got to say before someone knocked on the front door.

  She immediately jumped up, probably immensely grateful for the interruption. I was a little frustrated, but really, if it had been all that serious, she would have told me.

  “I guess you did choose right,” I called after her. “You’re living a fairytale!”

  I heard the front door open and then I distinctly heard a soft “Uh oh,” from Donya.

  “Hi, Donya?” I froze when I heard Kyle’s voice. “I’m Kyle Sterling, Emmy’s boss. Is Em here?”

  I shot up from my chair, unsure of which way to run. No matter which way I exited the kitchen, Kyle would be able to see me from the front door. I was hoping that Donya would send him away, but instead she said, “How did you get my address?”

  “Samantha Grayne.”

  Donya let a string of curse words fly at the same time I did under my breath, and then I heard her quickened steps returning to the kitchen. She snatched her phone up off of the table and quickly found the number she was looking for. “Sam! Why are you giving my address out to complete strangers?” she yelled at my mom. “I don’t care if he’s the pope! I don’t know him!”

  She walked out of the room toward the bedrooms, arguing with my mom like I would. Donya was an extension of my family, so there was nothing unusual about her behavior towards my mom. If circumstances were different I would have laughed, but I sensed movement behind me. When I turned around, Kyle was standing in the other doorway, watching me with his dark eyes.

  I knew in that instant, by Donya’s hasty retreat to the back of the apartment and the fact that she had left her front door wide open that she thought that I needed to face my problems head on and immediately.

  Kyle didn’t speak as he started across the small kitchen. I took a step back, and started to take another, but he shook his head in warning

  “Don’t make me chase you,” he said in just above a whisper.

  I put a hand on my hip as anger flared in me. “Why are you here?”

  He closed the distance between us with two long strides. He looked down at me and gently cupped my cheek in one hand.

  “You know why I am here,” he whispered.

  Before I could speak, he kissed me. I felt my body start to react and that was when I jerked away from him. I took several steps back until I was standing in the small dining area of the living room.

  “You can’t just gloss shit over with a kiss,” I said bitterly.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly as he moved forward, reaching for me. I moved away again.

  “No, Kyle! Go home. Go back to Jess,” I spat out.

  “I’m not leaving here without you, Emmy.”

  “Fine. I’ll leave. You can stay here.”

  I snatched my purse and jacket off of the couch where I had left them the night before.

  Kyle sighed with great patience, pinching the top of his nose between his fingers. “Em, don’t make me chase you,” he repeated his warning.

  Donya stepped out of her room just then, still holding the phone in her hand. I was mad at her, too, for letting him in.

  “I’m leaving,” I told her as I walked to the door. “And I’m keeping your fucking boots.”

  I rushed out of the apartment, slamming the door closed behind me, and ran to my car.

  As I pulled away, I was surprised that Kyle had not come out right behind me. I sped through Cherry Hill, intent on going home but reconsidered and took a detour.

  ***

  I didn’t have to wait for him as long as I thought I would. He must have known that I wouldn’t go home, because he walked through the door of his apartment only a few minutes after me.

  I had parked in the visitor’s area, not far from his parking space, but he would never think to look for my car there. I have had a key to his apartment since the day I started working for him. I’d had to use it on occasion to retrieve forgotten files, a clean dress shirt to replace one stained with coffee, to direct the housekeeper, and for other reasons that kept Kyle on task.

  He didn’t notice me when he came in, standing as still as stone in the shadows of the dark kitchen. He didn’t even look my way. He put his keys down on the table by the door and hung up his jacket. He looked tired and his forehead was creased with stress.

  When he turned around, his eyes finally settled on me.

  “Shit,” he said, looking a little startled.

  “I’m rarely allowed to be here because Jess pops in whenever she wants,” I said, speaking in a low, quavering voice. “You invade my life on every level and I can’t even spend the afternoon in your home.” I sniffed and quickly wiped away a tear. “That makes me feel like trash, Kyle. You come to my house whenever you feel like it, even if I don’t want you there. The circumstances are the same. Luke could show up at any time and I take that risk. You’re hardly risking anything. You’re so careful that you don’t get caught, but you have no concerns about me getting caught. We’re both being selfish, I’ll admit that, but no one is more selfish than you, Kyle. You take what you want and you don’t care how you get it.”

  He sighed heavily and looked at the floor, but he said nothing. He had no defense, because I was right.

  “That’s what I thought.” I said after a minute. I wiped my tears and I took his key off of my key ring and threw it on the table. “I’m done.”

  I started to walk in a small arc around him to get to the door, but he moved to block me. His face was stony, his body rigid. When he spoke, his voice was deceptively soft.

  “I chased after you in Baltimore when I realized you weren’t coming back. I waited at your house for most of the night, sick with the idea that you may have run to Luke. I drove past his house several times before I was convinced you weren’t there. I went back to your house and waited for you until this morning. I finally broke down and called your mother. I told her we had a work emergency and I couldn’t locate you. She suggested I check at Donya’s. That had, at some point, crossed my mind, but it’s a known fact that she generally travels to most of her husband’s games. I thought she was in Arizona with him and didn’t think I’d find you there. I didn’t have time to look up her address so I got it from your mother. I then chased after you to Donya’s, and then chased you across her kitchen. I am tired of chasing after you, Emmy. I am not going to chase you anymore today.”

  A shudder ran through my body as I sensed instability within him. When he took a step toward me, I took two steps back.

  “You’re not going to just throw your fucking key on the table and say you’r
e done,” Kyle said, and took another step toward me. I took another two back. I uttered out a surprised cry when he lunged for me and caught me by the wrists. “I said,” he whispered. “I am not going to chase you anymore today.”

  I swallowed hard and tried to pull myself from his grasp. His hands squeezed my wrists painfully. “Kyle, let me go. You’re hurting me.”

  At first, I didn’t think he would do it. He stood there staring at me like he was thinking of chaining me to a wall, but after a few seconds he released me.

  “You don’t want to chase me,” I said, lightly rubbing my left wrist. “So, don’t. Just let me go.”

  Shaking his head, he said, “That’s not an option, Emmy. Stop telling me to do something I can’t do.”

  Reminding him of why he never wanted me in his apartment to begin with and needing a reason for him to stop blocking me from leaving, I said, “If Jess shows up—”

  “I don’t give a fuck about Jess right now!” he roared so loudly that it vibrated through my body.

  Startled, I shrank back from him. He squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds. When they opened, he at least looked a little regretful for exploding at me.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, a little breathless. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I just don’t care about that right now. I just care about you and me right now.”

  He reached for me, but I dared to take a few steps back, and wrapped my arms around myself. He watched me carefully, as if he expected me to do something or say something. So, I did, say something that is. Donya told me I had to let one of them go, and she was right. I had to choose.

  “I made a mistake,” I said, my voice barely carrying the distance between us. “I made a mistake and I don’t want to do this anymore.”

  Kyle’s face hardened. “So…what? I’m the mistake? Is that what you’re telling me, Emmy? First I’m a dead end and now I’m a mistake?”

  “We,” I gestured between us. “Are the mistake. We are the dead end. Look at us, Kyle. We’ve been a serious hot mess from the beginning. I didn’t even like you.”

 

‹ Prev