I pull him down into a kiss, reveling in his hot, soft lips, mildly tasting of salt from sweat.

Kyle flinches and breaks away when the soccer ball bounces off his hip, reminding me that we’re not alone.

“Are we playing or are we taking a break to watch you two do it right here?” Eric hollers.

“Shut up,” Kyle grumbles, turning back to me. “Maybe we can pick this up later, when we’re not in the middle of a soccer field?”

“Probably a good idea.”

“ ’Kay.” He dips his head into the crook of my neck with a chuckle. “Shit, I need a minute.”

“Why . . . Oh.” A rush of heat floods my body as I get his meaning.

His hard swallow fills my ear. “Quick, help me think of something else.”

Something else besides Kyle and me together? Because now that Eric has said it, it’s all I’m picturing.

“Eric in a maid’s costume. Extra-short skirt and his hairy legs,” I blurt out, because yesterday’s drama performance had everyone torn between howls of laughter and cringes of mortification.

“Yup. That should do it.” With a groan of reluctance, he climbs to his feet, attempting to discreetly adjust himself in the process.

“You gonna be able to run with that?” Eric teases.

“Run . . . kick . . .” Kyle hoofs the soccer ball, sending it straight for Eric’s head. “Get back in net so we can finish this.” He offers me his hand to hoist me up off the ground. “Ash and Avery and them are in the rec center, making popcorn. Meet you there when we’re done?”

“ ’Kay.” Maybe it’s a residual of my defying my father, or maybe it’s because of the growing tension between Kyle and me, but I lean forward to graze his earlobe with my teeth, whispering, “Hurry up.”

The pained look on his face as I back away makes me smile.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” he warns.

“I hope so.”

Heat flares in his eyes, and I know in that moment we’re both thinking it at the same time.

The question isn’t if I’m going to give myself completely to Kyle.

It’s a matter of when.

Chapter 15

 

NOW

Ashley pounces on me the second I walk through the front door of our condo.

“So, what would you think about”—she slips my bags from my arm—“a party?”

“Uh . . .”

“Like a housewarming party.”

“She’s already making a guest list,” Christa calls out from her seat on the couch, one hand holding the remote as she channel-surfs, the other busy stroking a content-looking Elton.

“You’re home early.” I plant myself on a bar stool, inhaling the delicious fragrance of apple pie. A golden-crusted dish sits in the center of the island, caramelized juices oozing through the slats of the lattice top. Ashley’s handiwork, no doubt.

“So are you.” Christa frowns, muting the TV. “What’s going on? Is this about Tripp or Kyle?”

I chuckle despite my dark mood. She’s always been so adept at reading me. “Kyle. And my father.”

Ashley is slack-jawed by the time I finish relaying all that Kyle divulged today about being paid off.

“Wait a second. So Kyle is claiming that your father paid him money to basically disappear?” Christa asks slowly, doubtfully.

“Yup.”

Ashley frowns. “Do you believe him?”

“Yeah,” I admit with reluctance. “I do.” While my father has always portrayed himself to be an ethical man, I know he made a significant financial donation to Brown to help alleviate the concerns that Rhett’s grades might not get him accepted. And there was a case at CG, when an employee claimed she had been fired without cause and threatened legal action. My dad paid her a lump sum to make her go away, mainly because he didn’t want the hassle that would come with fighting her in court. So do I think he would be capable and willing to pay a boy he deemed “bad news” to get away from his only daughter?

Yes. A thousand percent, yes.

“It’s like some horribly cliché plot device in a show about rich people,” Christa mutters. “It’s crazy.”

I snort derisively. “What’s crazy is that Kyle could have gotten way more money out of my father.”

“Oh, to be filthy rich,” Ashley murmurs dreamily, her chin resting on her propped arm.

“So, when are you going to confront your father about this?” As always, Christa cuts right to the chase.

“I don’t know if I’m going to. Believe me, I want to look him straight in the eye and make sure he knows that I know what he did. But, as of right now my father doesn’t seem to remember that Kyle ever existed. He didn’t recognize him today, in the lobby. Didn’t so much as blink at him.”

“It’s probably better to keep it that way,” Ashley says.

“Right? Knowing my dad, he’d have Kyle escorted off the property. He’ll probably go after his job.” I feel the compelling urge to stop that from happening, and there is one thing I’m sure of—Dad would never want anyone to know that he basically threatened and blackmailed a seventeen-year-old boy. There must be laws against that. At the very least, it’s shady as hell and wouldn’t do well for his reputation.

“Pretty ballsy move, taking a job in the same building. If he’s telling the truth.” Christa still sounds distrustful.

“What else did Kyle say?” Ashley scuttles around the kitchen, collecting small dishes and forks, and a knife. “You know, besides the fact that he moved across the country for you thirteen years later and is still madly in love with you.”

“He’s not in love with me! And he moved as much to get away from his dad and brothers.” I feel the smile begin to stretch my lips, unbidden. “But he’s single. He’s living with his little brother.”

“Really?” Ashley squeals at the same time that Christa groans, “Here we go.”

“What!”

Christa gives me a flat look. “Forget about the fact that he accepted fifty thousand dollars to stay away from you for a minute. What’s going to happen when your dad finds out you’re dating the building security guard?”

“We’re not dating!”

“Yet,” she mutters, toying with Elton’s ears. “But we all know where this is going.”

“Who says?”

“History! We were there at camp, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” Ashley’s eyes are star-filled as she sets a plate in front of me. “Like horny magnets. Couldn’t stay off each other.”

I cringe. “That was a long time ago. A lot has changed.” Has it, really? Kyle still commands my attention when he steps into the room and distracts my thoughts constantly. From the moment I saw him in the lobby that day, I haven’t stopped wondering about him. I’m still so wildly attracted to him, I may as well be a hormonal teenager.

“Is that why you can’t look me in the eye right now?” Ashley teases.

“No. I’m just enthralled with this delicious pie,” I mutter around a mouthful. “Mmm . . . so good. Sorry, what were we talking about?”