Somebody Else (Somebody, Nobody Duet Book 1)
Page 22
“I know,” I said. “I just wanted you to see it. And I just wanted a few minutes alone with you.”
I took the picture from her and tucked it into my back pocket where it had been. I stepped forward and gently kissed her cheek. As I pulled back, she turned her head, pressing her cheek to my face. Our lips brushed against one another for a brief second before I put distance between us for good.
Kinsley climbed into her SUV.
“Hey, love,” I called out.
She looked at me, her eyes obviously filled with tears.
I blew her a kiss and said, “Merry Christmas.”
I helped April clean up the living room, which was a mess of wrapping paper from all the gifts. Milo was off in his own world of trying to use his new scooter around the house, while wearing some helmet that went with a laser tag game he got.
April told him to get upstairs and get changed because they were leaving in a little bit for a family dinner.
I pulled the orange strings to close the trash bag and carried it to the kitchen. The side of the fridge was an array of school stuff for Milo. Homework sheets. Art projects. A calendar with the lunch menu. The magnet picture of Milo from his soccer pictures.
It wasn’t anything I hadn’t seen before, but standing there, it all started to weigh on me a little.
Christmas morning. We should be together as a family. Kinsley sitting next to the tree with that big grin on her face, forever the kid during this time of the year. Our daughter jumping for joy at the new and cool present she got from Santa. Sipping coffee and hot chocolate. Listening to the Christmas music. Letting our daughter go upstairs to play with her new toys. Giving me and Kinsley the chance to cuddle up together in front of our fireplace where I’d slip her a gift. Something she had been eyeing all year and never thought I would remember. Or… what if we would have had more kids? A baby in her arms…
“Are you okay?”
I jumped and spun around to find April standing close to me.
“Yeah,” I said.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I was just… thinking…”
“You can come to dinner with us,” she said.
“No. Not a chance. You know that.”
“I know. I’m just offering.”
“Hey, have you heard from June today?”
“Not yet,” she said.
“She didn’t even bother to call her own son on Christmas morning?”
“It’s early, Brice.”
“No, it’s not. That’s a fucking joke, April.”
“Maybe you should call her,” she said. “Tell her how you feel.”
“I’m done with telling her how I feel. That ship sailed.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Forget it. Listen, it’s Christmas. Milo is happy. That makes me happy.”
“What are you going to do for the rest of the day now?”
“Whatever I want,” I said. “I’ll be fine. This time of the year isn’t my thing to begin with.”
“Brice, thank you for being here,” April said. “I know we don’t see eye to eye that often, or at all, but I really appreciate the help. And you being a male figure in Milo’s life.”
“I appreciate you saying that.”
“You uprooted your life for him. For us. For June.”
“April…” I shook my head. “Trust me. It wasn’t some romantic gesture to anyone. I was worried about Milo.”
“You care,” she said. “That’s all that matters. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I said.
“I’d better go check on Milo and make sure he has the right clothes on.”
I laughed. “I’ll see myself out.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come to dinner? I can call ahead and make sure there’s no June talk.”
“The offer means a lot, but I’m okay. Plus, if June finds out, she’ll just assume…”
“Right,” April said. “I should have thought of that myself.”
“Merry Christmas, April.”
“Merry Christmas, Brice,” she said.
I left the house with a sinking, empty feeling in my gut and my soul. Inside the house it was about love and laughter and the joys of what today meant. For Milo, it was perfect. He’d go see more family, get more presents, then come home and crash into a slumber of excitement.
For me, I drove back to my place and got a beer and stood outside on the porch. It was cold and quiet. I kept swallowing the same lump in my throat over and over. I kept thinking about Kinsley, wondering how her morning and day had gone.
It was all so messy.
I had no true problem with Ben. I didn’t know the guy. My heart wanted to call him an asshole for holding Kinsley down with a lease on the building where she worked. But what the fuck did I know? Maybe he charged her next to nothing. Maybe he was the reason she had the business in the first place. Maybe this guy was perfect for her. Today, tomorrow, and forever. Maybe I was just that wild blip on the radar, that wild hair everyone gets when they want a little bad fun.
Then again, Ben could take care of her all he wanted and give her anything she dreamed of, but happiness wasn’t something bought. It was either there or it wasn’t.
The first beer somehow turned into a few more. And that turned into a bottle of whiskey. Another one of those moments where I wished I had a fucking dog to keep me company. Something with a pulse to talk to other than the drunk reflection in the mirror. Because that guy in the mirror didn’t tell me what I wanted and needed to hear.
Sitting on the edge of the couch with my middle finger gently rocking the whiskey bottle back and forth, tempted to just let it fall, I looked around the cabin. I hadn’t bothered to decorate. No tree. No stockings hanging from the mantle. Shit, I hadn’t even had the chance to bring Milo up here yet. We could hang out, play board games, watch movies. He could sleep on the couch and I could sleep in the chair.
Like… like…
“Father and son,” I whispered.
We were never going to be that. I wasn’t his father. I was a temporary friend. Someone to guard his young heart for the moment while his addict of a mother tried to put her life back together. Or until April managed to get all the legal shit in order and take full custody.
“Jesus Christ,” I said and buried my face in my hands.
This was the final ending to it all. Years later, waiting for it to crumble, and it was happening.
My drunk heart said I should text Kinsley. My drunk mind knew better. But then my drunk mind said I should at the very least email her. What was the harm in that?
I picked up my phone and went to the emails and watched the screen refresh with the usual bullshit stuff I never opened. And there, tucked neatly between it all, was an email from Kinsley.
Brice -
Can’t text today for obvious reasons. Sorry. It shouldn’t be like this for us. It’s not fair to anyone. I have this urge to apologize for everything that’s happened, but I can’t do it. Because I don’t feel like I did anything wrong. Yet I feel guilty.
You have a way with my heart, Brice. And it terrifies me. Your version of forever is scary and adventurous. There are so many twists and turns and surprises. There are moments when it’s so quiet, I can hear myself think, which is a luxury. Then there are moments when it’s so fast and so loud, I don’t know where we are or where we are going.
I don’t know why I’m telling you all this right now. I just sort of feel like it. It’s super early here. The sun’s not up yet. Coffee is made. The tree is lit up. Everything is comfortable and cozy. But there’s a problem. It’s not real. None of it is real, Brice.
And you’re not here.
I’m broken right now. And it’s not into halves either.
But I have to be whole for the moment. Just please know that. Read everything I’m typing and remember it.
I love you.
Kinsley
I wasn’t sure what the email was
supposed to do to me.
What it did do… that lump in my throat wasn’t able to be swallowed anymore.
I dropped my phone to the floor and reached for the whiskey bottle. I fell back on the couch and drank until the thoughts stopped.
Only they wouldn’t stop.
So, I drank until I fell asleep.
And I fell into a world where Kinsley was wrapped up in my arms and everything was perfect.
19
The Ugly Blanket
Kinsley
I couldn’t sleep. And I wasn’t going to sit up and write emails to Brice or secretly text him and try to quickly delete the messages. The feeling of all that had passed me by. It was like a giant wave that finally decided to crest. It hit me hard, but I just sat there on the edge of the bed, my feet almost touching the floor because the bed was so high off the floor. In the past with Ben it was easier to get through this moment. I was able to blame it on my period. He thought I was hormonal and a bitch because of that. One time, he had gone on a business trip which allowed me to melt down completely while he was away. By the time he came back, I was just the normal Kinsley he knew and loved.
No matter what it was, I always had an excuse.
Not this year.
The feeling was like a fire burning through my stomach and up toward my heart.
Of course it was Brice’s fault. His presence in my life made this moment impossible to ignore or get through without a bigger problem.
My hands gripped the sheets as I took deep breaths, trying to keep myself present in the moment.
The holidays had officially come and gone. The decorations were all tucked away into the garage for another eleven months of collecting dust. It was a new year now too, which meant trying to remember to change the year when you wrote out checks. Because sure as fuck nothing else changed around me. It was the same motion. The same day. The same night. The same everything. The perfect world that I had managed to secure was suddenly not so perfect. Driving up the cul-de-sac left me tempted to cut the wheel to the left and turn around and leave.
To go where?
Oh, trust yourself, Kinsley, you know where you want to go…
I squeezed my eyes shut.
I knew it was like two in the morning.
But I had to do this.
It had to happen right now.
I purposely shook the bed and glanced over my shoulder and watched Ben start to stir. His beautiful clean-cut jaw that any woman would give anything to touch and kiss. The covers on his stomach, showing off a well taken care of chest. Cut and lean, the same look that carried through his entire body. On Christmas night, he took me to bed and loved me in a way that made me weep. But for all the wrong reasons. The following morning I woke to his hands exploring tender areas on my body. I stayed on my side, my back facing him, gripping my pillow, biting my lip, keeping my eyes shut as I played into it with him. The way he delicately touched me, bringing me to climax with just his fingers, my toes curled so tightly they hurt, only to have him move over me and thrust his thickness inside me, taking himself to the hilt with a deep grunt and hold there. As though he owned me. I was face down in a pillow, groaning as he pumped himself in and out of me until he climaxed. Then he climbed out of the bed, took a shower, and left for work, leaving me a mess of morning sex and mixed feelings.
That was the last time we were together.
Hell, just hours ago when he said goodnight to me… I didn’t even get a kiss.
Ben’s eyes opened, and he looked around the room and then at me.
“Kinsley?”
“We need to talk,” I said.
“Talk? Right now? What time is it?”
“Do you love me?”
“What?”
“Do you love me?”
Ben blinked hard and pushed himself up into a seated position. “Kinsley, what the hell are you talking about? Did you have a bad dream or something?”
“Why won’t you answer the question?” I asked.
“You woke me up to ask me if I love you? Of course I love you.”
I turned and made a quick decision to change my plans. I crawled to his side of the bed and straddled him. I ground my hips deep against his lower body, wanting him to come to life. I dug my nails into his shoulders. His hands touched my waist.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Right now.”
“Christ, woman,” he said. “What is this?”
“A wake-up fuck,” I said, trying to feel bold.
Desperate to hide the pain.
Ben lifted me up. I let out a forced cry as he moved me off him. “Take a breath, Kinsley. You woke me up for this?”
I pushed myself off the bed and stood there. I felt vulnerable. Exposed. I felt like a whore again. I hated that word and it wouldn’t stop coming at me.
“I’m sorry,” Ben said. “Give me a second. Come here. Come back to bed. You look like something’s wrong. I didn’t mean to push you away.”
“Yes, you did,” I said. “I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t want to do that with you.”
“What?”
“I don’t think I should be here right now, Ben.”
The words echoed in the room as Ben raised an eyebrow. “Care to explain?”
“Look at us. What is this?”
He threw the covers off himself and stood from the bed. “Fuck no, Kinsley. Don’t try that move on me.”
“What move?”
“You’re going to grab at any excuse in this house and this relationship, so you can run to someone else. Aren’t you?”
“Fuck you, Ben. Oh, that’s right, I just tried, and you said no. How does that make me feel?”
“How does it make me feel if I’m not sure if you’re thinking of me or him?”
The words were brutally honest and stung.
“You have no idea what you’re saying,” I said. “Or what I’m feeling right now.”
“Right. So wake me up in the middle of the night to start this shit. You know I have a big meeting tomorrow.”
“Always about work. That’s all you do to hide.”
“Hide? I’m not the one trying to run to an old boyfriend.”
“Fuck you. If I wanted to go, I’d be gone.”
“So then go, Kinsley. Go run to him and see what you lost out on. Sure. Why not? That’s what you want from me, right? You want my approval. Go fuck someone else and let me know how it feels.”
I choked on words as I shook my head. “You don’t get it. It’s not that simple. Aside from Brice, look at us. This is all fake.”
“Fake?”
“This bed. The room. The house. The life. We’re just here. Existing together.”
“In love? Taking care of each other?”
“Your version of that is different from mine. Guess what, Ben? I used to smoke. And if I could, I’d do it again. But you treat people who smoke like they are worthless.”
“This is about smoking? Does Brice smoke?”
“This isn’t about him,” I growled.
“Then tell me what it’s about,” Ben said. “Try me, Kinsley. Since you want to hate me so much for something I didn’t do.”
“Didn’t do,” I said. “That’s it right there. What you didn’t do. What you never do. I feel like I’m your hostage. You can’t go a week without reminding me that you own the building my business is in. I can’t make a suggestion about my business without you shutting it down because you’re worried about the building. Everything is about money. Everything is so fucking planned out, I can’t take it. I can’t just walk in a straight line and pretend to smile anymore, Ben. You never kiss me. Just randomly kiss me. If you’re wearing too fancy of a shirt, I’m not allowed to go near you. You’ll pick random moments when you decide I’m worth fucking and then I’m left waiting for days, weeks… we went two months over the summer without touching each other.”
“Because I’m supposed to make the first move?” he asked.
I didn’t answer.
He kne
w he was wrong.
I knew I was wrong too.
We were both on different sides of a different fight.
“I have to go,” I said. “I didn't want to just leave without telling you first.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
I turned and moved toward the closet. I couldn’t believe myself as I grabbed clothing off hangers, sending them scattering to the floor. I rushed to the drawers and grabbed bras, underwear, shirts, pants, anything I could carry in my arms.
All the while Ben just stood there.
He didn’t try to fight for me. He didn’t grab me. He didn’t rip the clothes out of my hands. He didn’t make me go back to the bed where he could say something.
“This is what you want?” he asked as he stood there.
“I don’t know,” I said. “That’s the truth, Ben. I don’t know what I want right now. You didn’t even try to stop me.”
“Because I love you too much to stop you,” he said. “Because I won’t force your heart into something it doesn’t want. Remember that, Kinsley.”
Ben’s phone lit up on the nightstand. Without thinking, he turned his head and looked down at it. And not just a quick look, he reached for the phone.
I turned and rushed out of the bedroom.
I was able to carry my clothes, put my shoes on, and snag my keys off the keyring at the door, all without Ben attempting to make a move. That, with, my phone in hand, I was gone. I was free.
I threw everything across the back seat, except the keys.
Before I could comprehend what had happened, I was already more than halfway to Brice’s place.
This wasn’t some desperate move. I needed to be near him. In a way that Ben could never understand. Which was my fault for never telling him about the past.
But I couldn’t live that life anymore. The processed life. Maybe it was comfortable and easy to live in, but it wasn’t true to myself. I wasn’t even sure if Ben was true to himself. If I was just the comfortable notion that he had someone to come home to. Someone always there. Someone to try and love him. And if the urge struck him, there was someone there to kiss, touch, and have sex with.