Say It's Not Fake

“You look pretty amazing yourself,” I said, grabbing my purse. It was warm, so I didn’t need my coat.

“Is your mom home? I’d like to say hi.” He peered over my shoulder, looking for her.

“She’s out actually. I’m pretty sure it’s a date, though she won’t admit it.” I closed the door behind me and followed him to his truck.

“A date? With who?” he asked, clearly shocked by the idea.

“Do you remember Leonard Ship?”

“Sure, he coached my little league basketball team when I was thirteen. Your mom’s on a date with Leo Ship?” Kyle opened the passenger side door for me.

“They’ve been spending a lot of time together. He bought the house across the street. His wife died last year, I guess.” I hesitated, looking at how high the step was to get into the cab of the truck.

“That’s right, I had heard Mrs. Ship passed. I was sorry to hear that. She always made this amazing trail mix that she handed out at practice.” He realized I hadn’t gotten in the truck and reached out a hand. “Oh, sorry, I know it’s hard to get up there. Let me help you.” Kyle curled his hand around my waist. I could feel the heat of his fingers through the thin material of my blouse. I looked up at him. He looked down. This felt like a moment. I licked my lips. His eyes grew heated.

I leaned in ...

“Upsy daisy,” he said, hoisting me up. Then his hands were gone, and he was closing the door behind me.

Alright then.

The inside of Kyle’s truck smelled like vanilla. A rich, sensual smell, not unlike the man himself. Once in the driver’s seat, Kyle fiddled with the radio. Some sort of screaming heavy metal blasted from the speakers, and I flinched at the volume.

He winced and quickly turned the dial down. “Sorry, when Katie’s not in the car, I listen to stuff I can’t when she’s around. There’s only so much bubblegum pop I can stomach before I want to gouge my ears out.”

“That’s okay, no objections here. I just got Corrosion of Conformity tickets for later in the year,” I told him.

Kyle looked at me in surprise. “You listen to C.O.C.? I never would have guessed it.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” The joke fell a little flat, and we fell into a weird silence. Par for the course.

“So, where’s Katie tonight?” I asked, glancing back at her car seat.

“Mom has her. I’m lucky that my parents love any excuse to spend time with their granddaughter. I have a great support network here in Southport. Katie has everything she needs.” There was an edge to his tone and an anxious pull to his mouth. I wanted to ask about the custody situation, but I didn’t feel it was my place to pry.

I hadn’t spoken much to Kyle since we had coffee on the day of his meeting with Adam. We exchanged casual greetings for the rest of the week, but nothing more. He made no attempts to talk to me more than that, which was why his phone call asking me to dinner had shocked me. I thought maybe he had been embarrassed after spilling his guts over coffee.

“She definitely does,” I agreed. I wanted to say more, but I didn’t. That was the story of my life when it came to Kyle Webber. There was an ocean of stuff left unsaid between us.

“Change the music if you want. There are some CDs in the glove compartment.” Kyle reached over me to open the glove compartment, his arm brushing against my leg, his chest pressed into my arm as he drew closer. I could smell his cologne and the spicy scent of the mint he was sucking on. Our cheeks practically brushed, and I held myself still. So still. Wanting to turn my head slightly, wondering if he’d do the same. We were close enough to kiss.

Then he was pulling out CDs and handing them to me before sitting back in his seat.

“Really, this is fine,” I insisted, though I looked through what he had given me to be polite. I glanced over and found that he was tapping the steering wheel with his fingers in an irregular rhythm. His knee bobbed up and down. There was this amped up sort of energy vibrating around him. It reminded me of all the times I had been around him when we were younger. I had dismissed it as his crazy personality, but I wondered if it had more to do with the way our energies bounced off each other.

***

“What’s up, Whitney?” Kyle came into the living room where I was watching Dirty Dancing for the thousandth time. I had just gotten home from cheerleading practice, and I was waiting for Shelly and Laura to come over so we could go to the big party down by the river.