He notices the late hour but seems more worried about me. About my reaction when I can see I haven’t missed any calls. Not from mom, not from anybody.
“What’s wrong with that?” Kyle asks, stifling another yawn.
“Well… Nothing, I guess. I just thought. Well, after what she said yesterday…” I add, trailing off as Kyle gets up out of the bed.
He looks great in or out of clothes, and at any hour of the day or night.
He’s just so… Perfect.
Following the lines of his abs and chest, working my way all the way up to his face, I can see he’s got a question in mind.
“Do you want to stay in Cherry?” he asks, kind of out of the blue but I know he’s really asking me what I’ve always asked myself.
The day before yesterday I would’ve answered yes in a heartbeat. Yesterday I would’ve maybe had to think a little but probably still said yes.
Today? I’m really not so sure, and that bothers me more than anything.
“Why?” I ask Kyle, pretending I’m as level-headed as he is.
But there’s just something in the way he asks.
That look in his eyes, like he knows a lot more than he’s letting on.
“Kyle, what is it?” I ask, the worry clear in my voice before he steps closer and pulls me into him, holding me as he gently rocks me.
He kisses me good morning, and smiles, brushing the hair back from my face, reminding me just how much of a morning person I’m not.
It’s like eight a.m. but Kyle says he’s overslept.
That he’s only asking if I want to stay in Cherry because, “Where you go or stay… I go,” he explains, giving me a little smile before he pecks my lips again.
Untangling himself, he moves to the bathroom, groaning at the tub full of warm water, but promptly starts to brush his teeth.
Getting ready for another day of being his amazing self I guess.
I’m about to tell Kyle I feel the same way, but only that I’ll go wherever he goes, not the other way around.
I don’t want him to change his whole life and routine just because of me. But his ringing phone beats me to it. With the brush still dangling out of his mouth he takes a few long steps to reach it like he’s been expecting it to ring.
He hits the speaker button and makes his way back to the sink in the bathroom.
“Yeah,” he answers casually, about to spit.
“Mr. Langford, it's Michael Matthews. I’m sorry to call you so early and again, but we really need to talk.”
I can feel my jaw drop and the room starts to spin. I sit on the edge of the bed before I fall over in shock.
Kyle looks gutted too, but for a different reason.
I half expect him to snatch up the phone and take it off speaker but he doesn’t.
Dabbing his mouth with a towel, he picks up the phone and walks over to me, sits, and takes my hand in his.
“Now, Mr. Matthews,” he says before my dad can say anything else. “You’ve never spoken to me before have you?” he asks.
All I can do is give him a sidelong glance.
What the hell is going on this morning?
“Uh… No, I haven’t. But if I could just have a moment of your time,” My dad stammers, but Kyle’s quick to speak.
“Look. I’ve got a lot going on right now, and whoever gave you my direct number is gonna have me to answer to, but I can only suggest you direct your inquiry to my main office,” Kyle growls impatiently, but instead of just hanging up, he lingers.
As if he knows what’s about to happen next.
As if he knows what I really want.
Without another word from Kyle, he slides his phone into my hand and stands, kisses the top of my head, and steps out of the bedroom.
Leaving me with two choices.
“Dad?” I ask, surprised at how put together I sound.
It’s as if it’s only been a couple of days, not fifteen years since I’ve spoken to him.
“J-Jacinta,” he chokes out. “Sweetheart… Oh, my god-But how?”
Needless to say, dad and I have a lot of catching up to do, the least of which is me explaining what I’m doing talking to him on Kyle Lundstrom’s phone.
Kyle comes in only once, to hand me a cup of hot coffee he’s brewed for me.
I have more questions for him than my dad, but I mouth the words ‘thank you’ for now.
And I don’t mean thanks for the coffee.
“Where are you?” I ask my dad, avoiding the big question, the real and only question I want to ask, but I figure baby steps might be in order here.
“Well,” he explains, sounding relieved to tell me. “I’m actually in Cherry. I’m at home… I mean, at your mom’s.”