Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Zara
“Keep walking,” I whisper yell at Kyle when he turns his body halfway around to look back.
“How far is your office from here?” he asks.
I am focused on putting distance between us and my brother and his friends, nothing else matters in my head.
“Two miles,” I tell Kyle. “Give or take.”
“Give or take what?” His tone goes up an octave when he asks, and I almost laugh.
“Give or take another two miles.”
I am yanked back when he stops abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Girl,” he snorts out loud. “You will get the worst shin splints if you walk for the next four miles in those shoes.”
I hate that he makes sense. My shoes are not made for long walks despite the low heel on them. They are supposed to be comfortable in a professional office setting and not as I power walk through the streets.
Kyle pulls on my arm, stopping me from throwing myself into traffic, all because I don’t want to talk to my brother about the current situation.
“Why are you acting crazy?”
I drop my face in my hands, completely mortified by my behavior. I’m not even sure what I hate more, the fact that now my mom and brother are aware of Kyle’s existence, or that I am showing a side of me to Kyle that I didn’t even know I possessed.
“That call with my mom last night,” I try to explain. “She now thinks that you are someone who is important to me…”
Kyle squeezes both my shoulders in encouragement. “Your mom was very cool. I loved chatting with her.”
“She enjoyed it as well. A bit too much. Now she can’t wait to meet you.”
He pulls me into a hug, and I land with my face against his chest.
“I will be on my very best behavior,” he says.
“I promise. I’ve never met a mom in this setting since I was in high school.
” My face moves with his chest when he lets out a laugh.
“But I’ll practice on how to behave on my friend’s stepmom.
She’s a straight shooter, so I’m sure she’ll let me know if I act goofy. ”
My eyes fill with tears as I listen to him make plans for when he meets my mother in person. Not to mention, he’s already met my brother.
“This is a disaster, Kyle,” I mumble against his chest. “How am I going to live this down?”
When he takes a step back so he can see my face, I notice that the front of his sweatshirt is damp from my tears.
“Zara, baby…” His tone is gentle, as if he were speaking to a small child.
“This is no big deal at all. You’re making it big in your head,” he chuckles.
“But it’s really not. We all meet new people every day.
Some get introduced to our families and friends, some don’t.
Besides…” He pauses for dramatic effect.
“They were bound to meet me in person anyway, right?”
I stare at him, dazed and confused.
“At the party you were taking me to,” he clarifies. “For the Fourth.”
This is the point where I reach a new level of despair.
“You were supposed to only meet my brother and his friends,” I wail. “ Briefly ,” I make sure to emphasize. “Now my mother is involved. How is this possible?”
Kyle is at a loss for words. I guess he can’t think of how to spin this one, even though, he seems to be pretty good with words in general, and he finds a good explanation for everything.
“So I won’t meet your mother,” he shrugs. “It’s not mandatory.”
I spin around, turning my back on him. I can’t think when he is so sweet. It’s bizarre how we only just met, and he’s already turned my life upside down.
“I really need to go to work,” I sniffle. “And I can’t go looking like I’m crying. The entire office will talk. I hate office gossip of any sort.”
Kyle runs a comforting hand up and down my back. “How about I drive you back to your house…”
“I can’t go back home,” I about yell at him, my entire body tensing again.
“Okay,” he laughs softly. “Do you want to go to my house?”
I turn around to look at him. I can’t tell if he is serious or trying to be funny again. Either way, I don’t appreciate it.
“Why would I want to do that?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “You said you can’t go to work looking like this.” He moves his hand up and down. “I was trying to help.”
I wipe my hands over my face. “I just meant they can’t see that I’ve been crying. I don’t need to go to your house or mine for that.”
“Oh…” His eyes move side to side. “I thought you wanted to wipe the streaks of mascara off your cheeks.”
I freeze, unable to even breathe. Today out of all days, I decided to put some mascara on.
It is not something I usually do, but I wanted to look nice for Kyle, and this is the only thing I could come up with.
A change in wardrobe was out of the question, especially since I had to go to work after our having breakfast together.
“I can’t believe this is happening to me,” I whisper. “I’m about to freak out, Kyle.”
The tone of my voice doesn’t match the turmoil inside of me. I sound cool, calm and collected. Meanwhile, I am freaking out in my own head. Meeting Kyle was a bad idea.
“Come with me.”
I don’t fight it when Kyle grabs my hand and interlocks our fingers. He turns us around and continues walking down the sidewalk I started us on only minutes ago.
“Where are we going?” I guess it is my turn to ask that now.
“The grocery store over there.” He points to the building we’re heading toward.
I can’t think of anything I’d need from there, but I let him lead me there, especially liking the way he holds my hand. I flex my fingers a couple of times, and he responds in kind.
No one has ever held my hand like this. The rush of pleasure I get from it makes me lightheaded. I love every second of it.
We make it to the grocery store where I bump into Kyle’s back when he stops abruptly.
“I’m not quite sure what we’re looking for.” He smirks while eyeing me sideways. “Something to clean that off your face.”
I figure I should help him out. “Makeup remover.”
He winks at me and clicks his tongue. “I knew you were smart.”
He’s back to making me laugh. I don’t know how he does it, but his sense of humor is like no one else’s. Or maybe it’s me who doesn’t have a sense of humor at all. That’s a legitimate concern.
We walk together up and down a couple of the aisles until we find the one we need. There are a few options, and I’m not sure which one works best. My usual go to are soap and water.
Kyle pulls out his phone. “I’ll ask the girls.”
“What girls?” My eyes widen in surprise. I think I feel slightly jealous. What girls could he possibly have available at such short notice to ask about makeup remover?
“They’re just girls I’m friends with.” Kyle shrugs nonchalantly.
I can’t say that statement makes me feel any better. I can’t stand the thought of him texting with his former flames, asking them for advice on how to help me.
“I’m more friends with their men,” he adds, and I feel instant relief. “They’re my friends’ significant others.”
Walking now with a pep in my step, I am willing to listen to whatever information he gets.
“Okay,” he mutters as he reads the screen. “Evie says to get this water thing, and Hayden gave me a name that sounds fancy and we’re probably not going to find it here.”
I love that he is still holding my hand while we navigate the aisles of the grocery store. It gives it this intimate feel that I didn’t know I needed.
“What kind of water?”
Kyle shrugs. “Micellar? Is that how you say it?”
I squint at his phone when he stops to show it to me. “I’m not sure. I’ve been using the same wash that my mom used to buy me when I was in high school.”
We continue walking until we finally found what his girl -friend, meaning she is a girl who is also a friend, mentioned.
Once he spots what we need, he grabs a rather large bottle off the shelf along with a bag of cotton balls.
“What are you doing?” I ask when he lets go of my hand, then proceeds to undo the cap and break the seal on the bottle. It is followed by ripping open the bag of cotton balls.
“There was a seal…”
“Eh, not like they’re going to expire if the bag stays open.”
I can’t even laugh at that because I am so nervous, my hands are shaking like a leaf. Kyle, completely unaware of my internal freakout session, takes a cotton ball out, squirts some of the micellar water on, then starts dabbing at my face.
His hand is incredibly gentle, and I can only imagine this type of care would be required in the case of an open wound or something similar to that.
“There,” he murmurs with one final dab to the side of my face. “You’re beautiful.”
I have this sudden urge to kiss him, and I don’t know what to do with it.
Instinct suddenly kicks in. Lifting myself up on my toes, I wrap my arms around his neck, or do as good of a job of it as I can considering our difference in height.
I press my lips against his, then in an even more brazen move, I touch the tip of my tongue to his bottom lip.
That is all the encouragement he needs as he wraps his arms around me while still holding the micellar water in one hand and the bag of cotton balls in the other.
“I love kissing you,” he groans in between open mouthed kisses. “I thought about you all night long…”
The more he talks, the more I wish we were in a different place right now. The middle of the store is not a good place for this.
“Come home with me,” Kyle begs, like he can actually hear what I’m thinking. “It will be so good between us…”
Alarm bells sound in the distance but enough for me to want to stop whatever is happening between us. I am overwhelmed by the flood of emotions inundating my entire body, making me feel a tad uncomfortable in between my legs. In fact, if I were home, I’d run to change my panties.
“What time do you need to be at work?” Kyle mumbles around another heated kiss.
The question finally gets my full attention, and now I understand why I was a bit alarmed when he asked me to go home with him.
I push at his shoulders until I can get him to stop kissing me, no matter how much I enjoy it.
“I have to be at work by nine fifteen.”
Kyle stares at me, unsure of why I would share that with him even though it is an answer to the question he just asked.
“What time is it, Kyle?” I shake his shoulders when he doesn’t say anything.
As if in slow motion, he takes his time switching the cotton balls to the hand that’s holding the micellar water, then he pulls the phone out of his pocket and finally checks the time.
“Eight forty-eight.”
“Oh my god!” I take a step back and slap both hands on my cheeks. “I am going to be late!”
“How late?” he asks as if we didn’t just have a lengthy conversation about how important being on time is to me.
“Five minutes,” I wail. “I’m never late! I’ve never been late, not even once in all the years I’ve worked there.”
Kyle grabs me by the arm, and we start walking toward what I hope is the exit.
“How many years?”
My heart is racing and my head is a mess. “How many years what?” I ask.
Kyle walks us with confidence to one of the cashiers. He places the two items on the counter and waits for her to scan them.
“How many years have you worked there?”
My eyes are fixed on the cashier. She is young and very pretty, and I am pretty sure she is in the process of starting a conversation with Kyle.
“Anything else I can get for you?” she asks in a breathy tone. I swear she just pushed her chest out, too.
Kyle, to his credit, only gives her a polite smile. He nods and taps his card on the reader, not even waiting for the receipt to pop out. He grabs the plastic bag containing the two items he just purchased, then he takes me by the hand, and we walk out.
The traffic is a lot busier than it was when we walked in. Cars are flying by, and I realize that I have to walk back to the parking lot of the restaurant where me and Kyle were supposed to have breakfast this morning. Everything is such a fiasco now.
In the corner of my eye, I notice a couple of the fire trucks leaving the station with the lights on, the siren echoing all around us. I am ashamed to admit that I feel a bit relieved by that because it means that my brother won’t be waiting for me to ask about Kyle.
“My car is over there.” I point to it, a small sniffle of despair escaping the back of my throat. My emotions are all over the place. I am not ready for Kyle to drop me off at the car and leave, and I am also not prepared to face my boss and explain to him why I’m late.
I am so into my own thoughts that I don’t realize Kyle is not taking me to my car. By the time it registers, we are walking across the lot that is on the other side of the restaurant.
“Uh, Kyle?” I tug at the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “My car was the one back there.”
I try to point toward the area in question, but he doesn’t stop walking, causing me to be yanked forward. He doesn’t stop walking until we are stopped in front of a truck. Kyle’s truck.
“I am taking you to work,” he declares, and my eyes widen to what I’m sure would be the size of saucers.
“Why would you do that?”
He shrugs in the way that is now familiar to me. Funny how I can already tell.
“You are nervous, and it’s my fault you’re running late. So I’m taking you. That way I’ll know you go there safely.”
He opens the passenger door with a flourish and a bow of his head, like I am royalty.
“But… But…” I look around, not sure for what. “How am I going to get home from work?”
“I will pick you up.”
He is so casual about the whole thing, it leaves me speechless.
“Come on, baby. You don’t want to be even later than originally thought.”
With my heart beating in my throat, I let him help me hop up in his truck. I jump when he slams the door shut, then watch him as he walks around the hood until he gets to the driver’s side.
He turns the engine on, music instantly filling the cab. It sounds like it’s a rock station, and nothing that I would listen to on my own. He grabs a pair of aviators out of the compartment above his visor before putting the truck into gear.
I remain quiet while he turns it around and slowly inches his way to the exit from the parking lot. Just as I think he will turn onto the street, he presses on the breaks, causing me to grab his arm in a panic.
“What’s the matter?” I can hear the distress in my own voice.
Kyle slides the sunglasses down his nose, his bright blue eyes staring me down with intent.
“Zara, we have a problem.”
My fingernails automatically dig into his forearm. “Oh no, what is it?”
“I don’t know where you work.”
I lick my lips nervously. “What do you mean?”
His smile is so bright, I think I might need sunglasses, too. “You need to tell me where to take you, baby. Where is it that you’re late?”
“Oh, that.” I swallow hard. I am such a mess.