Coming Home (Only Time Will Tell #1)

by Caroline Spencer

  I have my forearm resting on the worktop, starting to feel slightly sick from eating too much really creamy, vanilla ice cream. I let Kyle take another huge spoonful before I make a grab for the lid, only that spoonful doesn't make it to his mouth. I feel the ice cold lump slide down my back, under my tank top, making me scream and prance around like a mental fairy as the icy lump slides down my spine.

  “Fuck, K.C., that's cold!”

  He bends over laughing his head off, and I'm glad that I can still cause that much amusement.

  With him not paying attention, I scoop a handful of ice cream out the tub, shoving it down his back under his shirt. I start laughing as he tries to curse at me for doing that while he's trying to stop laughing at me. He looks at me eventually and shakes his head, smiling, he takes his own handful and drops it down the front of my top. If it was anyone else I would have been extremely pissed, but I'm happy that we’re strangely doing something that was completely the old us. Not the suit and tie adults, we have become, but the baggy pants, baggy shirted kids we once were, over a tub of ice cream.

  “You complete and utter fucktard!” I shout, jokingly.

  I grab more ice cream, my hand is starting to numb, but I don't let it affect me. I start chasing after him because he's decided not to play fair and has run into the living area. I'm thinking he thinks I won't want to get a mess everywhere, he seems to forget, I don't really give a shit. Mess can be cleaned up, winning a war has to happen, right now. Just for these next few minutes, I’m going to take the weight of the world and leave it in the kitchen, just for a few minutes.

  It's a pathetic game of cat and mouse around the coffee table before he runs laps around the apartment, grabbing ice cream from the tub as he passes and then starts trying to get me with it-which is completely unfair.

  It keeps us occupied for a couple more minutes until I'm left with sticky hands and melted ice cream all over the floor.

  I really can’t wait to get the marigolds out, and get on my hands and knees over this.

  We’re both in fits of laughter, breathing heavily. “I still need to get you back.” I warn, wiping my hands down the back of his expensive shirt while he has his back to me grabbing his jacket.

  He looks over his shoulder at me and the mess on his back. “Do you know how much this shirt cost?”

  “Do you know how much this shirt cost?” I mock, “Jesus you sound like your Mother.”

  “If it was my Mom I would have had the receipt out by now proving it to you,” he laughs.

  I roll my eyes. “That's true. Did you actually come around here for something tonight?” I never did ask, I just fed him.

  He steps closer, smiling sweetly and laughing softly, with one side of his mouth tipped up. His eyes search my face. I've seen that twinkle in his eyes before, and I remember how it always ended. “C.J.?” he whispers.

  Shit, there go the panties... knickers... underwear.

  He places his finger under my chin and slowly lifts my face to look at him, and into those God damn eyes, luckily, he places a hand on the small of my back before my knees give out. I've been in this situation, what feels like a million times, but no matter how many times he has done this or will do this, I can't stop reacting this way; like an inferno has just broken out in my bloodstream.

  He places a soft and gentle kiss on my lips and I revert back into the stupid seventeen year old I once was. The same feelings of heat, goosebumps and shivers simultaneously taking over my body.

  His tongue runs slowly over my bottom lip, seeking access like he always did. My eyes close and I'm done. I'm gone. An actual fire could break out and I wouldn't care.

  My lips part slowly. It feels slightly surreal, like if I open my eyes, he won’t be there and I will be just kissing fresh air.

  I never thought I'd find myself in this situation again. I never thought I'd be so willing to go back into the place that nearly killed me, and I never thought I'd forgive him.

  I think I'm just happy for the time being, living in the world that I once had.

  His lips start to massage mine into a steady, even rhythm. His tongue slips into my mouth, the taste of him, sending a cold, electrifying shock from the nape of my neck right down the tips of my toes. I clutch onto the lapels of his jacket, reminding myself that he really is here.

  His kiss becomes more eager, more forceful. His hand slips to the back of my head, holding me in place, not that I planned on moving.

  He pulls our bodies closer together, connecting us, both of us molding into each other perfectly. He moans deep in his throat and I briefly smile against his lips, loving that I can still cause that noise. But it's that moan that snaps me out of it. It takes me back to the last time I heard it, it drags me through all my old memories, pain and tears.

  I can feel my heart constricting in my chest and the onset of tears brimming in my eyes.

  Pulling away from his kiss, as happy as it first made me, I can't do it now.

  I can't look at him. I don't want him to see that I'm ready to cry, because the moment he asks, I'll break down screaming and blubbering.

  I place my forehead against his chest, immediately feeling his racing heart.

  Kyle places a soft, lingering kiss on the top of my head. I can't help but smile slightly.

  “I'm sorry,” I whisper. Sorry for letting him kiss me, sorry for kissing him back, sorry for stopping it, sorry for wanting to cry. Sorry for a lot of things.

  He rubs the back of my head, “You have nothing to be sorry for. Are you okay?”

  I nod, dreading that my voice will betray me if I talk.

  He wraps his arms around my tightly, squishing me against his chest and I'm immediately thankful I took a shower and didn't reapply make up because he'd be one huge orange and black mess.

  “I never thought I'd do that again,” he chuckles, “and it wasn't my plan to do it tonight either, I just couldn't help myself. You just smiled and I realized I had my little ray of sunshine back in my life. I've missed you,” he says, pulling back slightly. I look up, certain that I managed to rein in the tears, and see him smiling softly.

  “So, are you coming?” Nod asks the second I sit down at my desk.

  I look at her puzzled, as I have no recollection about us making plans to do anything. “Where?”

  “The charity event? You said you were checking your diary?”

  Oh yeah. Still not going. “Sorry I forgot to check, I pretty much crashed as soon as I got back last night.” Besides, I feel like I need to curl up into a ball and hide away from the world. My heart is in shreds and a charity event is the last thing on my mind.

  She starts pouting at me. “Please, please, please come. I'm begging you. It'll be the first time I'll have a friend with me.”

  “That's not true, you've taken Ryan before. Or does he abandon you for Kyle?”

  “How did you know that?” She asks, squinting her eyes at me, “I never told you that I’ve taken Ryan.”

  I laugh nervously, the feeling of dread pricking at my spine. “You sure? I'm positive you mentioned it.”

  “No. I didn't. Are you keeping something from me?” She asks, pointing her finger at me.

  I rub my hand across my forehead, trying to erase the tension that's building, adding to my grumpy mood that she hasn’t picked up on. “No. Like I would. I must’ve heard it somewhere else, maybe Ryan mentioned it last Friday.”

  I wait for her to reply, she doesn't, so I turn my attention to my computer, hoping she'll drop it for now. She can at least give me a chance to think of an excuse.

  I busy myself with dealing with a client who owns one of the biggest clubs in Palm Beach. Filing all the takings, wages and miscellaneous. It's always nice to see that businesses are moving in the right direction.

  Nod's been quiet for the most of the day. I'm not sure if I've upset her by lying to her, but I do plan on explaining everything to her one day. She took her dinner break alone because I was still busy working through my work load. In
fact, it's not until my stomach rumbles that I realize I still haven't eaten.

  Stretching my arms above my head after finishing with my work for the time being, I ask, “Are you okay, babe? You've been quiet all day, it worries me.”

  She glances up quickly before carrying on with her work, but it doesn't last long. She chucks her pen on the desk sighing heavily. “It's bugging me. I never told you about me taking Ryan, so how do you know? Why are you lying?”

  Rubbing my face with my hands wishing I had kept my mouth shut I reply, “Okay fine! I lied. But I'm not explaining anything to you here. Come around mine for dinner tomorrow night and I promise I'll explain things, okay?”

  She starts clapping excitedly and smiling like a lunatic. “Yes! I'm so excited to be getting gossip from you. I don't think it's happened before.”

  “You’re such a freak at times,” I say as I get up, needing food.

  When I think this day can't get any worse or awkward, Kyle walks in, throwing me a cautious “Hi.”

  “Hey, what are you doing here?”

  “It's partly my company,” he says, looking at me with a screwed up face like I just asked what color the grass is.

  I smile fakely. “Of course it is. Add that to the fact you’ve shown your face twice in two months, why would I ask such a stupid question?”

  I hear Abigail gasp in the corner like I've just told The Beetles that their music is shit—which I'd never do.

  His lips start fidgeting, like he's chewing on the inside of his lip, something he used to do when he wanted to say something he couldn't. “I've been busy.”

  “Okay,” I say, smiling brightly. “Do you need me? I was just going for my lunch.”

  He bobs his head around and rolls his eyes. I look at him confused. What the hell is wrong with him? “I bought you some,” he says shoving a brown paper bag towards me.

  Does he have to be so sweet? Here I am trying to find words that don’t exist and he’s trying to pick up where we left off without having a clue about the bombshell I need to tell him. The fact that he’s insistent on doing this makes it all the more harder to do. It makes me wonder how life could have been. Would he have been there for me and helped me through it? Would he have turned his back like I thought he had? I have no clue and will never know because that choice was taken out of his hands. I’ve spent all this time trying to hate him for thinking that he’d done the latter and in reality, he thought it was me that had moved on.

  I can feel my heart tightening at the realization that he might have done what I expected him to do. I don’t doubt for one second that he’d have been by my side. Helping me. Supporting me and doing anything I needed to get me through it. Instead of that though, that dragon decided to put an end to whatever me and him had, regardless of the situation.

  “Did your Uncle tell on me for not taking lunch?”

  “Yeah. I kind of asked though. I needed to see you.”

  “See me?” I ask grabbing my lunch and quickly looking inside. “What have I got? It feels warm.”

  “Grilled cheese and salami,” he announces, smiling brightly, like he's proud that he remembered our favorite lunch snack from way back when, “and I got you one of these as a peace offering. I’m sorry I got pissed off the other day,” he says, digging into his pocket while I look on curiously. He eventually pulls out a Butterfinger and I immediately want to burst out laughing. He always got me one when he'd fucked something up, and I won't lie, I missed eating them.

  “Oh. My. God. I think I may just love you again.” I laugh for a split second as I take it but then remember we aren’t alone. I smack my hand over my mouth, my eyes bugging out as I look at him for help, but he's too busy trying not to laugh.

  “I've come to ask a favor too,” he says, squinting his eyes as he looks at me uneasily. “Can I borrow your keys?”

  “My keys?” I whisper.

  “Yeah, I think I left my cell at your place last night. I can't find it and really need it.”

  Oh, mother of God, why don't you just use a machine to dig me a fucking hole instead of using a shovel. “Oh. I didn't see it anywhere.”

  “Please, I really need it,” he begs, and I give in almost immediately.

  I go to my desk, dropping my lunch on the surface while I crouch down under my desk to hunt my keys out of my purse, all the time feeling the rest of the office staring at me while I try to keep from making eye contact. The other two I can deal with, Nod on the other hand is going to rip me to shreds as soon as she possibly can. I find them and go back to him, giving him the evil eye. “I want them back for five. Don't touch anything, don't be nosy, just get it and leave. Okay?”

  “Yes, ma'am,” he says with a salute.

  I raise my fist to punch him in the arm, but decide against it and flex my fingers. “Five.”

  He smiles at me, mocking me, because he knows I'm pissed, and he must have gathered why.

  When he's gone I go back to my desk, without looking at anyone and silently eat my lukewarm lunch. I can feel Nod glaring at me, and I only hope and pray that she refrains from bringing anything up while ears are about.

  I carry on with my work until it's completed and I can safely say that the club is still making a profit. I only have an hour left in this place, and can't wait to leave.

  While everyone else is getting on with their work load and not looking at me, minus Nod, who is casually trying to get my attention by slamming the odd thing down on her desk, which I ignore, I click onto the web and Google “Kyle Cooper.” I was expecting the odd tidbit, not a whole page of articles.

  I click on a few and get a bit of history on him, see what's happened in the last eight years. I'm actually interested and proud of him. According to the articles this place was his first project. It seems his Uncle asked him to design and build him a place and if he liked the way he worked and liked the building, he could take over where his Uncle left off. And when I say Uncle, I mean his Great Uncle. My boss surprisingly has the same blood as his mother who has no children of his own and has always doted on his only Niece…the wicked witch of the west.

  I also, stupidly, click on images and see hundreds of pictures of him with different women. None of them are brunettes, a lot of blonds and the odd redhead, but none of them are his “type.” It surprises me.

  What they all have in common is the fact that they're all stunningly beautiful and should be cover models, and possibly are all thinking at that point in time that they're “the one”—topping it off with the fact that they all look to come from wealthy backgrounds.

  This information only fuels my bad mood, which lifted briefly when Kyle showed up. I don’t doubt for one moment that I would have been the thorn in his Mother’s side if things had turned out differently. If we hadn’t moved and if the gates of hell hadn’t opened up on me.

  I visited hell last night, going over and over everything in my head. Taking out what I called my diary and reliving everything. I couldn’t sleep because of the fact that I went over every scenario in my head, planning and plotting ways I could tell him and how he’d react. None of them were good. But I’ve always come to the realization that if you expect the worst, you can’t be disappointed.

  At ten to five, I start becoming anxious. He isn't back with my keys and I really don't want to hang around here longer than I need to. I start tapping away at the desk again with my pen, watching the time tick by.

  “Hey,” Nod shouts, “less of the...” she taps away at her desk. “Don't think for one second you’re getting out of here without talking to me. We are so definitely talking.”

  Chucking the pen on the desk I look at her and scowl, “I told you, I'd tell you everything tomorrow.”

  “Why tomorrow? Why not now?”

  “Because...I'm really not sure what I'm ready to tell yet, for one, and two, this is a conversation for me and you, not the whole freakin' office,” I say through gritted teeth, but then look at the other two girls and smile apologetically towards them.
>
  “Not ready? You’re really not helping yourself.”

  “Yeah, well, some things are hard to talk about. It might not mean anything to anyone else, but that part of my life meant a lot to me!”

  She groans irritatedly, throwing her hands in the air. “Fine. But I'm telling you now, I will, one way or another, get the full picture. It might not be tomorrow, but I will.”

  With that, we left it on her promise, or threat.

  It's finally finishing time, and Nod comes around and gives me a hug before she leaves.

  I'm stood waiting in the office like a lost part, while I wait for someone whose time keeping seems to be appalling.

  It was stupid of me to give him the keys in the first place. Why do it? I don’t even know him anymore, not really. So, why just pretend like everything is normal between us? Why? Was I blindsided by him bringing me my lunch that I momentarily forgot? Forgetting that we aren’t kids and even though it felt stupidly normal and acceptable it’s not. I don’t think it’s just him that’s trying to pick up where we left off, it feels like I am too. Letting him back in my life and acting like nothing changed. Well, it has. A lot has changed and not for the better. Nothing can move forward with us until we’ve dealt with the past. Not that you can deal with it, it lives with me everyday. But he has the right to know the whole story and why I had a bigger need to get in contact with him. It wasn’t just for love.

  At about ten past, after I've paced the office about ten times, he finally runs through the office doorway, slightly disheveled and out of breath. “Sorry. I got held up.”

  “That's fine. I love staying here longer than I need to,” I reply sarcastically. “Have you got my keys?”

  “Here,” he says as he digs through his jacket pocket and hands them to me. “I found my cell, too.”

  “Oh goodie.” I sigh. “Couldn't it have waited? You had to come up here and blab your mouth?”