Better Late Than Never Page 20

  Her tongue grazes my thumb and it starts a crazy shift in the atmosphere. My dick rustles to life and my heart pounds out a crazy rhythm in my chest. Her eyes go wide like saucers, the air charged with electricity. The thing about Savi and me is, when we are in the same room or vicinity, it’s hard to ignore what we feel…even if we don’t acknowledge it with words.

  Before I can think about the progress we made last night, and the fact that I promised myself that this would never happen again, my lips find hers. We kiss frenzied, as if the longing between us has finally combusted into this moment. Stars alight behind my eyelids and Savi grips my shirt tightly.

  Whether it’s to pull me closer or shove me away, I’m not sure.

  We break the kiss in a flurry of ragged breaths. My lips tingle, relishing that long-awaited reunion.

  “Why does this always happen?” I blow out, bowing my forehead toward hers, so fucking tired of this back and forth.

  Her lips on mine felt like a thirst quencher on a dry day. I feel her head shake against mine and hear her shudder out a breath. This is all fucked up.

  “Why is there always this gigantic pull when neither of us is available?” Because I can’t understand it. We have had so many chances, but we don’t seem to want to take them until it’s far too late.

  “It’s a sick game, Kyle,” Savi whispers, backing away from me, the distance staking a knife through my heart. “One that only you can win.”

  Her words are like a swift kick to the dick. I have hurt her; continue to hurt her, as I promised yesterday not to do. And by the tears now trickling down her blotched cheeks, I have hurt her deeply.

  “Sav?” I hear Cam call out, reality crashing into me.

  Savi’s eyes go wide and her distance only widens. Turning toward his voice, I wish for a little bit more time with the girl who seems to plague my very existence. There is no life with her, but there is no living without her either. This isn’t a conundrum…this is a clusterfuck.

  When I turn back to her, all I see is her retreating back, and my best friend walking out on me…

  On us.

  Chapter Eighteen – Popozao

  Kyle – Present

  I AM STARING into space, memories from the past playing like a live-action reel in my head. With my cell phone in hand, I wait for this stubborn-assed woman to call and tear me a new asshole. My stubborn-assed woman. She has been mine for so long, I can scarcely remember a time when she wasn’t. It doesn’t even matter who had been there before me. They’re idiots for letting her go. We have been through sickness and health, crazy ex’s, demanding best friends, and a career-ending injury.

  And now I’m ready to give her my last name.

  If only she would just hurry it the fuck along.

  I am about to text her when a call comes in from someone I expect, but not in the mood to talk to. He has been a pain in my ass for as long as I can remember, but we have one thing in common.

  We love the same girl.

  In different ways, but still…

  “Yes, Grayson?” I answer, already pissed off.

  “Lower your attitude when you talk to me, cuz,” he retorts. “I’m the only one saving you from getting your nuts ripped off and fed to you through a feeding tube up your ass.”

  Horns honk and he curses under his breath, which tells me he’s driving.

  “Happy to hear from you, too,” I grumble, but smile.

  “I don’t know what you’re doing, motherfucker, but I hope whatever it is works,” he adds.

  “How mad is she?” I ask rhetorically. If I know my Purple-haired monster, she is spitting mad.

  “On a scale from one to nuclear?” he throws back at me, telling me the levels of her pissed-ocity – her word, not mine – without a definite answer.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Dude, you want her to plan this wedding…this can go so wrong,” he warns.

  “She’s my best friend, Gray,” I plead with him.

  “And she’s mine, too,” he concurs. “But this is risky. You’re playing with her heart, Kyle, and I don’t think I want to stand in her way when she finally removes you from her life.”

  Fuck.

  The music in Grayson’s background sums up my cousin’s and my relationship perfectly. I hate everything about him sometimes, especially when he’s right, but I do love him. He’s family, and always has my best interest at heart, even when he was trying to take my place as Savi’s best friend. The fucker…

  His words give me pause, so fucking sober and alert. I never thought how far sideways this could go…but far be it from me to give up now. I’m in too deep. I am going to follow through with this. If I lose her friendship, I will have gained more. I have to believe that. I’m going to marry the love of my life, she can either be there to witness it or…

  “Listen, Kyle,” Grayson sighs at the end of the line. “The less pain you cause her, the better.”

  Hell, don’t I know that? It’s the reason why, for six whole months, my best friend and I were in a Cold War. It would have been World War III if one of us didn’t throw in the towel. It’s so funny how our friendship can jump from one extreme to the next, barely surviving in the in-between.

  All I know is that this is going to be one of those epic fights between us. That purple-haired monster keeps me on my toes…

  Kyle – Past

  June 2009

  It has been three months since Savannah got in that accident; and strange enough things have been almost at an impasse between us. I left her parents’ house feeling like a big bag of Spike’s shit, and after a few days of unanswered texts from her, things changed drastically. We still exchange here and there texts; trivial “HRU” texts that often ended after we’d both say, “I’m good”.

  It feels strained between us and I am scared to even question the reason.

  Has she found somebody else? Is she back with that pussy, Cam?

  Either possibility causes an acidic burn to rise in my stomach. As much distress as it causes me, I’m too much of a coward to do anything about it, especially with this beautiful woman bouncing on top of me in reverse cowgirl.

  Claire has been such a constant in my life. She has remained the sweetest, most supportive person…and I am about to come inside her.

  “Fuck, Claire, I’m coming,” I gasp, gripping her waist and pulling her roughly down to meet my upward thrusts.

  Her moans turn to whimpers, breathing labored, pussy gripping my dick as I grind against her g-spot. She is about to climax again. Reaching my hand around her waist, I trail my fingers down to her clit and, with just a small amount of pressure, she goes off, releasing her breath in a scream. Hearing my name on her lips tear through my dorm room, I let go, my sperm coating the walls of her pussy.

  We had stopped using condoms months ago and it has been the best fucking thing ever. Think how Popozao felt when he married that Britney chick.

  Claire collapses onto my chest and I shift her so she is next to me. She cuddles into my side, sighing contentedly. I live for these moments. Next, she will burrow her nose into my armpit and sniff…and, like clockwork, she does. Something about loving my masculine musk. Smiling like a contented fool, I run my fingers through her hair.

  In a matter of minutes, I feel her soft breaths on my chest, signaling that she has fallen asleep. I close my eyes, feeling exhaustion pull me under. We had a rough game today, but we pulled through with the win. I had to ice my shoulder for longer after the game, something that hasn’t gone unnoticed by me or the coaches. I am due an X-ray tomorrow and I hope it’s nothing.

  Sleep comes knocking and I open to it…but jerk awake when something dawns on me like morning breaking over mountains.

  It’s Savannah’s motherfucking birthday!

  I groan because she is going to kick my ass. It’s almost the next fucking day and she hasn’t even gotten a lame HBD text from me. I have got to be the worst best friend in the history of best friends. Shit, that freak show from the mov
ie with the silent lambs would make a better best friend than me. At least he would make sure they were skin close…

  Quietly leaving the bed so that I don’t wake Claire, I drag on my boxers and grab my cell phone before stepping outside. It’s a chilly night out, but not enough for sweatpants and sweater weather. Flipping my phone open, I press down on the number one, speed dialing my best friend. She has been number one on my speed dial for years and although I’ve got a serious girlfriend now, I have not changed it.

  Maybe I should…

  The line opens after four long rings, but I don’t hear anything on the other end. Disappointment rolls through me. I am feeling every bit of emotion coming from her.

  “Savannah…” Do I apologize? Do I just tell her happy birthday and hope she doesn’t call me out on almost forgetting her birthday? Fuck, I’m knee deep in cow shit with no way out.

  “You know what?” she finally speaks, oddly calm.

  Not good.

  “I don’t even want to hear your lame excuse, Kyle,” Savi says. “Save it and your lame ass HBD.”

  She hangs up, my mouth falling open in shock. My brows furrow and all I can think is…

  “What the fuck?”

  I redial her number twice before I finally get her.

  “What?” she snaps at me.

  “Listen, I don’t know what crawled up your ass, Crazy Hair, but I don’t appreciate you hanging up on me,” I chide her. “I’m sorry I’m just now getting to call and wish you a happy birthday. I had a game–”

  “Save it, Kyle, really.” And she hangs up on me…again.

  I call her again and she picks up on the fifth ring, as if my call isn’t important to her.

  “What is your problem?” I bark at her.

  “Don’t shout at me,” she calmly demands…before hanging up on me again.

  I laugh a mirthless laugh, punching her number in harder this time, as if the numbers offend me, to try to achieve some modicum of calm. “This girl is trying me. The hell?” I mutter to myself, full on crazy now.

  We go through this song and dance for a few minutes more – me calling, and her hanging up after a few words spoken. We end up having a brief shouting match before she hangs up on me again and I picture myself wrapping my hands around her neck. She can be so goddamn frustrating.

  But fuck if my dick doesn’t respond to all of this. I have always loved her fire.

  “Are you going to stop calling me?” she asks, sounding bored, when I call her one last time, as if I’m not even worth arguing with anymore. Fuck that!

  “Not until you tell me what’s going on,” I charge at her. “I’m fucking sorry, Savi.”

  “Okay, apology accepted–”

  “Don’t you dare hang up on me again,” I demand, anticipating her next move.

  Silence, but the line remains open.

  “Look…”

  “Savi…”

  We start talking at the same time and I chuckle softly, the knot loosening in my stomach a fraction. I take a breath to speak, but she does before I do.

  “This always happens, Kyle,” she whispers. Not sad, not angry, just resigned. “You get a girlfriend, and I get pushed in the background.”

  “Sav–”

  “And that’s okay,” she interrupts, continuing her thoughts. “I didn’t expect that this could be forever. You have a lot going on in your life, and you have a serious girlfriend now. I’ve got a boyfriend and I’m trying to finish my degree and start a business.”

  Everything in my world comes to a halt. My chest caves in as I struggle to take a breath. Hearing this shouldn’t pain me, shouldn’t make me feel like finding who this guy is and scaring him away. She’s a beautiful girl…woman. She is fucking beautiful and sexy, so of course she’s gonna fucking date!

  I just…I thought…

  I don’t know what I fucking thought.

  “Our lives are moving in separate directions,” she continues, as if my fucking heart isn’t cracking open.

  “We can check in with each other from time to time,” she tells me, which is code for we won’t. “Cam and I have gotten even more serious since the accident–”

  Wait…Cam?

  “Yes, Cam,” she hisses. I guess I said that out loud? “And can you stop saying his name like that?”

  “Seriously, Savi, Camelot? I thought it was over between you two,” I sneer, a sour look on my face, as if the very thought of her still with that dude makes me sick to my stomach.

  It does.

  “What is your damn problem with him, Kyle?” she yells at me, finally rising to push back. “I can’t fucking stand how you talk about and look at him like he’s the gum at the bottom of your shoe. Yet, he’s the one between my legs at nights.”

  She sneers that last part and it makes me want to punch a wall and drive ten fucking hours to Florida to beat Cam’s fucking ass. I am murderous, blood pumping in my veins like molten lava. I am itching for a fight.

  But what does it say about me that I am rock fucking hard right now?

  “He’s not good enough for you, Savannah!” I roar. Why am I the only one who sees that?

  “I could say the same for you and Claire but I fucking don’t,” she shoots back at me and it’s too far.

  Too fucking far.

  What does she know about Claire and me? My girlfriend is so fucking supportive and she’s been there for me this past year more than she’s been. I tell her as much and it fires her off.

  “Oh, boo-hoo, I haven’t been able to come to every one of your games, and I don’t text you twenty-four/seven and fall at your feet, oh mighty, know-it-all, Kyle! God forbid I try to have a fucking life outside of you! Fuck you! Just…fuck you! Don’t call me unless you’re dead.”

  The line disconnects and I growl, punching the wall. Pain shoots up my hand and I howl, grabbing my fist and regretting it immediately. I release it and shake out the sudden pain…immediately regretting that as well.

  I can’t catch a fucking break…

  Apparently, I can.

  At the emergency room later that night – or is it early the next morning? – an x-ray on my hand reveals that two of my knuckles are broken. After casting it, the doctor gives me an injection of morphine for the pain that has me loopier than my mom gets after one glass of wine.

  Claire struggles with me to the car and I am glad that she’s here with me. This is why I love her. Savannah wouldn’t know the half of what her being in my life has done for me. She was out of place to even insinuate that Claire was wrong for me when everything else said otherwise.

  I watch with bleary eyes as my girlfriend navigates the clear roads. She is worrying her bottom lip and I know she wants to ask me what happened. Am I in the mood to talk about this? I’m not, but I know I have to.

  I shift in my seat and groan as pain shoots up my arm. These meds don’t work for shit.

  “You okay over there?” Claire asks concernedly.

  The streetlights intermittently shed an orange glow to her face as she passes them. She is gorgeous and all mine. Not entirely sure why I would even be hung up on anyone else but her.

  “Just a bit loopy, babe,” I answer, sighing and closing my eyes.

  “What happened tonight?” she finally asks, and I exhale a tired breath.

  “Savannah and I had an argument,” I confess.

  “And it was enough to make ya punch a wall?” She sounds incredulous, but I didn’t expect her to understand.

  “She pissed me off.”

  She sounds the words out slower this time, as if she’s trying to understand why I did what I did, “And it was enough to make you punch the wall an’ break your knuckles…”

  “She crossed a line, Claire.”

  “And it was enough…”

  “Yes!” I bark at her. “No!” I bark at myself. “I can’t think straight!” I scream at the universe.

  “All I’m sayin’ is that it can’t be a healthy friendship if you’re goin’ around like a suicidal
hen pluckin’ your own eyes out!” she spits out like rapid fire.

  Instantly, I get defensive. “You just don’t get it. She’s my best friend.”

  “I understand perfectly, Kyle,” she says. “I’ve got best friends that I have hissy fits with, but it don’t make me want to punch a wall. Break a nail while slappin’ her ’round, yes, but not break my hand.”

  There’s silence after she says this; enough to choke me with its truth. I mean, she’s right. Normal, healthy friendships aren’t like Savi’s and mine. But if normal and healthy was what we were going for, I don’t think we would have lasted this long. Our song-and-dance is like that redhead and her man who’s always got some ’splainin’ to do. It is epic and only few understand it.

  And that is why what Savannah and I have is so special.

  “Kyle…” Claire sighs as she turns down the street of the dorms.

  She parks her car in the parking lot and shuts the engine off before turning to face me. Her face is solemn as she plays with the hem of her skirt in apprehension. I wish whatever it is she wants to say, she would just come out with it. These pills are doing overtime now and I’m feeling the drowsiness setting in.

  “Sug’, the relationship ’tween you two don’t sit right with me,” she declares. “Was there ever anythin’ ’tween y’all?”

  I think about the will they, won’t they vibe between us that has been there ever since we were fifteen; about the constant sexual and emotional tension between us; about the first time I ever tasted her, felt her and felt her…

  And I lie through my fucking teeth.

  “We’ve only ever been friends, Claire,” I try to reassure her.

  “It feels like more, Kyle,” she whispers, looking away. She swipes at the side of her face and I feel all kinds of terrible.

  Sighing, I gingerly sit up straighter and turn her face to me with my good hand. Her silent tears splash on my fingers and it makes me feel like a Grade-A prick. I realize then that when it comes to Savannah, Claire has always been second; and that realization makes me feel even worse.