Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
K AYLA
What just happened? I’m confused. Justin Attleborough just kissed me, took my car keys, and left. Am I still alive? What’s happening? I pinch my thigh and yelp. “Fuck!” That hurts. But it means I’m alive. Okay. But in what universe is Justin this sweet with me?
And let’s scroll back for a second. Did he really call me ‘his’?
It’s not like the idea of that disgusts me, not at all, in fact.
It’s been my dream since I was a teenager.
But some dreams are just meant to be dreams: when they turn into reality, they eat you alive, devouring all senses until that dream is all you have left.
I’m not ready for that. I have things to do; I’m not ready to drown in another person, even if this person is Justin.
We’ve always been toxic as enemies. We will be toxic as lovers.
Plus, I don’t believe that Justin can change.
He is a man-whore, and I don’t want to sign up to constantly fend off his admirers.
I have too many insecurities of my own to add this one to the pile.
And let’s scroll back a little more. I just had sex with Justin Attleborough. How did that happen? When I saw his truck next to my trailer, I knew trouble was awaiting my arrival, but I never knew which sort.
Man, was he possessive. I couldn’t even utter a word, it’s like the alpha air around us ordered me to shut up, and I listened like a good girl.
I wanted to tell him about my virginal state, but every time I tried, he was there to shut me up with his mouth.
Literally. He kissed me differently this time.
This time, he wanted to possess, and I didn’t mind one bit.
Just remembering his lips on my body gives me shivers, and a silly smile spreads over my lips.
And then I expected him to leave, but he didn’t.
Instead, he surprised the lights out of me and climbed into the bed.
More than that, he tucked me under his arm and stayed the whole night.
Sleeping. I still don’t know how bad his insomnia is.
I mean, it must not be good from what I saw that time, but I honestly don’t know his situation.
From what I’ve googled, people can have insomnia to different degrees, and him crashing like that time in my kitchen must be pretty bad.
He didn’t like the question about when his insomnia started, and I suspect that it has everything to do with what happened with his sister.
Fuck, the amount of guilt he’s been carrying must be exhausting.
It must be even heavier than mine. How does he live with that?
How does he look at himself in the mirror every day?
I don’t blame him, and I don’t think it was his fault.
The asshole who assaulted Alicia is at fault.
That motherfucker needs to pay, not Justin .
And certainly not me. The ugly truth is what happened that night is horrible.
What happened to Alicia is devastating and unfair, and I pray that one day she won’t be haunted by what happened.
At the same time, to my utter disgust with myself, I know I shouldn’t feel guilty.
The anger I feel at being made to feel guilty all these years suffocates me.
I thought I did something horrible— truly did it —and forgot about it.
I’ve gone all this time thinking I’m such a horrible person that I didn’t even think whatever I did was important enough to remember.
But it clearly left an impact on Justin’s life.
I’d say it’s gaslighting, but I was the one feeding myself the lies.
My phone rings, and I pick it up without checking the caller ID.
“Sup, Kay.” A deep voice rumbles through the speaker.
“Oh, hi, Archie.” The excitement in my voice dies down…
“Don’t sound so joyful.” His low laughter is very sexy, but it never causes any shivers, unlike someone else’s.
“I was just distracted. What’s up?” It’s not like I expected Justin to call so fast—if ever—but hearing another voice still deflated my bubble a little bit.
“What’s up? We were supposed to meet for breakfast. Remember?”
“Oh shoot! I’m sorry, man. I forgot,” I groan and smack my forehead.
“O-o-okay,” he says suspiciously. “Is something going on?”
“No, why?” I answer too fast.
He laughs louder. “Because I had a visit this morning from a certain blond dude whose name shall not be named. Driving your car, by the way.” Then he hums and adds, “Or do we name him now, Kay-baby? ”
“Oh, stop it!” I say. “You’re bad.”
“And you probably, on the other hand, had yourself an excellent night last night. The dude has some settled look to him, like he finally got rid of his demons.” He laughs. “Happy for you. Told you, hate-fucks are the best.”
I groan at his teasing and ask, “What did Justin want?”
“So he does have a name now.” He hums again. I can even imagine him smirking.
“Archie! For fuck’s sake!”
“What? It was coming. Was it a good coming?” His chuckle is low and seductive but, again, does nothing for me.
“Oh, fuck you, Archie!”
“I’d love to, but no, thank you. I like my pretty face the way it is. The dude was very intense and very clear, and I’m in no mood to get my nose rearranged.” I hear the shuffling of clothes.
“Pussy.”
“I’m pretty.” He laughs again. And he isn’t wrong; Archie is very handsome, almost too handsome. He is like a dirty, sexy pirate who can sweet-talk you into doing anything. “Do you want me to come and pick you up?”
I like Archie, I do, but I draw the line at sharing information about my home. I’m just weird like that.
“No, I’ll meet you later in town; Justin said he’ll pick me up. Maybe lunch?”
“Sure. Who am I to compete with ‘the one’?” he teases and hangs up.
With him, it’s like that: he doesn’t get offended, nor does he offend.
All he does is tease, even though I have a feeling he’s a very deep person.
And very- very dark. The excitement every time he feels pain, his ever-sad eyes even when he’s laughing, the mastered ability to dodge every single personal question.
Yeah, Archie’s got dark demons. I know he and Alex were the only ones who survived during some operation on their last tour, and neither of them came back the same.
Besides that, they were both dishonorably discharged, and I can’t imagine that wouldn’t leave a mark on a soldier who loyally served for years.
But that’s pretty much it, I don’t know anything else about him, but from what I see, I can tell he is good people.
Marina gave me the day off, saying I would probably be hungover after the party. If she only knew. Or maybe she did, that witch. She always knows more than anyone does. I wanted to go to town in the morning, but it’s not morning anymore, and my car’s taken, so I decide to clean.
The first thing I do is change the sheets because it’s a laundry day, but once I step into the bedroom, I instantly change my mind—the scent of Justin and our…
lovemaking? Fucking? Is still in the air.
I don’t know if it will ever happen again, so I quickly fix the sheets and pull the throw on top of my comforter.
My little guilty pleasure, I want to bask in his smell one more night.
Just one more. And screw everyone who thinks it’s gross.
Then I dust, mop the floors, and collect laundry in the baskets to take to the laundromat later. We have one not far from the diner, so I can throw it in tomorrow morning and run to take it out a couple of hours later. That’s why I like small towns—everything is within walking distance.
I take a shower and get ready. I blow dry my hair (blow dry my hair on my day off, mind you), put light makeup on (again, on a day off, because I do it every time, I promise), and get dressed.
I don’t know why I decide to dress sexy today.
Yep, I totally don’t know why. I pull on my flowy, red, sleeveless sundress that goes down to my knees and accentuates my tattoos.
Others might find them weird, but Justin seems to find them intriguing, seeing as he licked almost every single one of them yesterday, so I feel encouraged to show them off and possibly even get more of them.
Yeah, I’m just looking for an excuse to get a new tattoo; I still have a lot of space left.
I’m about to go change into another outfit because I feel insecure dressing for him when the sound of the engine drifts through my trailer.
I peek outside—Justin’s truck is already there.
I grab a sweater (you never know in Maine) and run outside.
I guess that’s my ride to town, so I climb into the passenger side.
“Hi,” I say in a neutral voice once I plant my ass on the seat—I don’t know where we stand and how I should act for two reasons: one, I don’t know what Justin thinks, and two, I have no idea what I think.
“Hey, baby,” he says as he leans toward me and pulls me closer to him by my shoulders.
My eyes widen, and my mouth opens in surprise.
Justin uses this moment to slam his lips on mine.
The kiss is fast, without tongue, but it’s hot and wet.
Then he leans back in his seat, looking no less surprised than I am, and grabs the wheel. “Where to?”
“I—” I clear my throat. “I need to go to the diner.”
He throws me a confused look. “Why? I thought it was your day off.”
“I need to, hmm, meet with Archie,” I answer, dreading his reaction.
Justin squeezes the wheel until his knuckles turn white, and I’m sure there is not a drop of blood left in them. “The fuck do you need to meet him for?”
“Because I have things to discuss with him.” I try to remain calm, but it’s hard. Boy, is it hard.
“You don’t have anything to discuss with him,” he grunts through gritted teeth, squeezing the wheel even harder, and I fear he will break the poor thing and leave us stranded here with no means to get out. Would that be so bad, though?