40. Don’t Know If I’m Enough
40
DON’T KNOW IF I’M ENOUGH
KYLIE
I step outside, angrily brushing at the tears that have rolled down my face. Even though it’s freezing out here, I just need a few moments away from everyone.
How fucking dare some asshole pass judgement on mine and Seth’s relationship? What gives anyone the right to rate women on social media for likes and comments? I feel violated.
I have always been pretty confident in myself, but right now, I just want to hide. The idea of going back into that room makes me feel sick, surrounded by people I barely know and a group of women who would happily step into my shoes the second Seth looked their way.
“Kylie?” Clara rounds the corner, stopping when she finds me leaning against the wall, wiping more tears away. “Oh, honey.” She moves closer and pulls me in for a hug. “You can’t let them win. If you give them even a little bit of an idea of how much this hurts you, the trolls win.”
“I can’t just ignore this and hope it goes away. This is exactly what I was afraid of. I have no business being in this world. I don’t want to be judged by faceless strangers on the internet, wondering why Seth picked me when he has supermodels throwing themselves at him.” I was already feeling pretty sensitive after watching that blonde woman talking to Seth, so adding the video in was more than enough to tip me over the edge.
Will rounds the corner, his expression dark. “Hey. You okay?”
I huff a laugh. “No. How can I be okay after seeing that?”
Clara steps aside while my brother moves in to hug me, and I allow myself to lean into it. He’s always been an excellent hugger. I just wish this was one of those situations where a Will hug makes it all feel better.
Clara rubs her hand up and down my back. “In the years I’ve known Seth, this is the happiest I’ve ever seen him. You make him happy, Kylie. He doesn’t care about the opinion of some faceless troll on the internet. Women like those inside have been throwing themselves at him for years, and I have never once seen him give any of them the time of day. He has always kept mostly to himself, and when he has dated, it was never serious. But when he looks at you… Kylie, you’re it for him.”
“Am I, though? He hasn’t asked me to stay. He won’t talk about the fact that I’m leaving in two weeks. He hates this sort of attention, so the last thing he needs is to be in a relationship with someone that everyone says isn’t good enough for him.” I’m so close to breaking down, but I refuse to be the crying girl outside of a bar on New Year’s Eve.
Will’s arms tighten around me. “Bug, I hate hearing you speak about yourself like this. This isn’t you,” he says close to my ear. “I told you, he wants you to stay.”
“But why was he able to tell you that and not me?” I mumble into his chest.
“Because he doesn’t think he has any right to ask you to stay and give up everything you know. You guys need to talk about this.”
I nod, my forehead knocking against his chest .
“Kylie?” Seth’s voice sounds behind me, sounding concerned.
I pull back from Will to turn and face Seth. Clara is standing behind him. I hadn’t noticed her leave, but I assume she went and got him.
“We’ll leave you two to talk.” Will gives my shoulders a squeeze before heading back inside with Clara.
I shiver a little, finally noticing the cold, and my lack of a proper jacket. Seth moves to stand in front of me, unzipping his jacket and pulling me in close, just like the last time we were standing outside a bar in the cold having a serious conversation. I slide my arms around his back inside the jacket, stealing his warmth. At this angle, it’s easy for me to avoid looking at him, and I bury my face in his chest.
“Are you okay?” he whispers, and I shake my head without looking up. “Talk to me. Please?”
I take a deep breath, turning my face so he can hear me, but I still don’t have to look at him. “Why are you with me when you can have any woman you want?”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I can feel apprehension creeping in. Maybe he doesn’t want me after all.
“We’ve had this conversation before, and nothing has changed for me. I look at you and see the most beautiful woman, both inside and out, that I’ve ever met. You’re so full of life and your confidence in who you are draws so many people to you.”
I move back slightly to look at him finally. “Then why won’t you ask me to stay?”
He holds my gaze, moving to wipe away the tear that has escaped my eye. “Because I don’t know if I’m enough for you. You would be giving up so much to be with me, and look at what happened tonight. I couldn’t even protect you from the trolls. I can’t ask you to stay because it would be selfish.”
Inside, I hear someone yell out that there’s only five minutes to midnight.
“Why don’t you think you’re enough for me?” I can’t comprehend how he could feel this way when he’s the one with the most to offer.
“This life I lead… It’s a lot to expect someone to accept. And the crap you’ve had to put up with in just a few months by being with me… I don’t want it to dim the light in you I lo-” He cuts himself off, his eyes wide. “That drew me to you,” he finishes.
I inhale sharply, hearing the word that he stopped himself from saying fully. I hold his gaze, swallowing hard.
“Maybe…” I pause, not sure either of us is ready for me to say the next sentence. “Maybe it’s a good thing I’m going home… I think some time apart is what we need to work out what we both really want.”
I see the moment that my words sink in, his grip on me tightening while his jaw tenses. “I…” His words trail off, anguish written into his features while his eyes search my face.
His hesitation only strengthens my resolve. “We should go inside…” I say, stepping back a little. “Don’t want to miss seeing in the New Year.”
I can see the pain on his face and know that mine must look the same, but he nods, taking my hand to lead me inside. When we rejoin Will and Lincoln, they both eye us warily, and I shake my head to ward off questions. I’m not sure I can talk right now anyway, the lump in my throat threatening to unleash a torrent of emotions. One word is likely to end in me bawling my eyes out.
Someone starts the countdown, getting everyone started, but I’m numb to it all. As the group counts backwards to one, Seth pulls me in close, kissing me as everyone yells, “Happy New Year!”
I can feel his emotions, the desperation and heartbreak, seeping through the kiss. I cling to him while kissing him back with equal intensity. I weave my fingers through his hair, holding him close while his grip on my right hip tightens, his fingers digging in while his other hand works its way through my hair. I can feel the prick of tears in my eyes and I squeeze them closed even tighter.
How is it possible that I can feel so much for someone in such a short amount of time? Why do we have so many obstacles to climb when everything else between us feels so right? Why did I have to fall for someone whose life is so different to my own?
We pull apart finally, and he rests his forehead against mine. “Happy New Year,” he whispers for only me to hear.
I whisper it back, somehow managing not to cry. I certainly don’t feel happy. Everyone around us is celebrating, but I feel like my heart is breaking.
“Should we go home?” he asks, and I nod.
Making sure Will has a way back to our grandparents’ house, we say our goodbyes while the events team arranges a car to take us back to Seth’s place. Seth holds my hand in his lap, running his thumb back and forth on the back of mine while he stares down at them. Neither of us says a word.
I don’t know why I need him to tell me he wants me to stay. I can tell from his actions how he feels about me, but a stubborn part of me needs to hear the words.
Once we’re inside, the silence in the house is broken only by the sound of our footsteps, and for once in my life, words have escaped me. Neither of us seems to know what to say or do, and I wonder if maybe I should have just gone back with Will.
“Can we… Can I hold you, please?” he asks, leaning back against the island bench in the kitchen, watching me while I stand near the door.
I nod, and he moves towards me, clearing the distance between us in two large steps, and pulling me into his arms. I lean into the embrace, finally allowing the tears to flow silently. I hate this feeling. I hate that some stupid video has pushed us into this conversation that neither of us was ready for.
I look up at him, feeling the wetness on my cheeks. “Kiss me,” I whisper.
He kisses me, softly at first, but it grows into something more. We tear at each other’s clothes, our shared desperation clear. Once I’ve pulled off his shirt, he reaches under my jersey and pulls my shirt off with it, before wasting no time in removing my bra. Dropping to his knees before me, his mouth closes over my right breast, and I moan quietly while running my fingers through his hair with one hand.
Moving to do the same to my other breast, he undoes the fly of my jeans, slipping his hand inside and working his finger over my clit through my underwear, causing me to shudder. His mouth and hand work in tandem, his tongue stroking over my sensitive nipples while he continues to apply pressure with his hand. It’s not long before I’m panting and riding his hand, and he grips my hip with his free hand, urging me to move my hips back and forth without moving away from my breasts. Just as I’m about to come, he pulls back, and a whine escapes me at the sudden loss of his touch. He smirks a little while he tugs my jeans and underwear off before lifting me, and I wrap my legs around his waist while he carries me to the bench. The cold surface when he lowers me sends a shiver through me, but I allow him to push me gently back. Lowering his head, he sucks my clit between his lips, taking me right back to the edge while I gasp for breath and stare up at the ceiling, gripping his hair in my fist.
I hear him undo his fly. Raising on to my elbows, I watch him through half-closed eyes while he pulls his jeans off, barely able to keep my eyes open. While he runs his hand over himself to ease the pressure, my orgasm overtakes all my senses, and I cry out, pleasure rolling through me while my back arches off the bench top.
He slides me off the bench and turns me around, urging me to bend forward. He hesitates, his grip on my hip tightening, and I turn back to look at him over my shoulder.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t have a condom on me,” he says, his voice hoarse.
While he could get one from the bedroom, I don’t know that I have the patience to wait that long. “I’m on birth control,” I say, holding his gaze.
He swallows, sliding his finger inside me. “Are you sure?”
I feel my eyes roll back in my head when he hits the right spot. “Yes. I just need you now.”
Nodding, he moves his hand back to my hip. Lifting me on to my tip toes, he pushes inside me, hard and fast, and I cry out again.
“I’ve been thinking about you being bent over this bench since the first night I brought you home,” he grinds out, each thrust pushing my hips bones into the cold bench.
I moan, unable to form words when he moves his hand to work my clit, urging me on as my cries grow louder.
“I’m almost there. Come with me.” His words tip me over the edge again, and his moans mingle with mine when we come together.
He leans forward, pressing his lips to my neck while I struggle to get my breath back.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers in my ear after a moment, and I turn to look at him over my shoulder.
“What for?”
“That wasn’t how I wanted to be with you tonight. Did I hurt you?” He rubs his hands over my hips.
I shake my head, turning to face him. “No, you didn’t hurt me. I wanted that, just as much as you.” I touch his face. “We still have time together. I think we both needed that.”
He nods, his eyes still troubled, so I kiss him softly.
“Let’s go to bed. We can take our time the rest of the night.”
There’s no further talk about me leaving, of how we’re both feeling. We spend the rest of the night seeking comfort from each other, before falling asleep as the sun rises.