The Sinner (The St. Clair Brothers 1)

Again, her eyes darted around, as if she were avoiding looking at me. She seemed nervous, reminiscent of the moment before she took off and left me high and dry. Kylie twitched and fidgeted, and my internal alarm blared. Something was wrong, as if she felt guilty. Maybe for leaving. Or avoiding my calls. Or not answering my texts. Hell, maybe she should feel guilty.

“I, uh, I know you don't want to talk to me,” I stammered. “But, uh…” Fuck. I couldn’t form a sentence out to save my life. I rubbed the back of my neck just to have something to do. “Shit, this is awkward.” My arm fell back to my side and I gave Kylie my biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes. “Can you, I mean, can we talk? I only need a minute.” Kylie frowned, and I knew she was about to say no, so I pulled out something I never say to anyone. “Please?”

I saw the exact moment Kylie gave in. Her shoulders crumpled and she kind of shrank into herself. She appeared, I don't know, weary. I hated that I did that to her. I wanted to make Kylie laugh and smile and shout my name in ecstasy, not hunch over and get sad.

“There's a coffee shop at the end of the block.” Kylie jerked her head to the left.

I nodded. “Let's go.”

Neither of us spoke during the three-minutes it took to walk to the café. The silence was suffocating, like a heavy wool blanket tossed on my head, its weight smothering my mouth and nose. We stepped into the café, greeted by a much appreciated blast of warm air. My nose and ears burned as they thawed out.

“Why don't you sit and I'll get the drinks,” I suggested. “What do you like?”

See? More proof I was halfway off my damn rocker. Nothing made a lick of sense anymore. I didn’t know Kylie well enough to know how she took her coffee. Or if she even liked coffee. But I stood outside her home and pounced when she came out.

Fuck, I’m such a self-centered prick.

“Okay. A small coffee, please. Cream no sugar.”

A few minutes later I sat across from Kylie at a tiny two-seater table. Our knees kept accidentally bumping and I dug my fingers into my thigh to hold back a moan as my leg tingled and burned where we touched.

Kylie took a perfunctory sip of her drink and pushed it away.

“Does it not taste good?”

Kylie blushed and got flustered. “No. I mean, yes. It's good. I-I just forgot, I'm trying to lay off caffeine.”

“Oh.” I gave her a smile I hoped came across as a charming. I might be an asshole, but I could be a fucking charismatic bastard when I wanted to. “I could never do that. I’m so dependent, if I could, I'd walk around with a caffeine IV hooked up 24/7.”

She didn't laugh, but the corners of her lips twitched. The tiny, sort-of smile only lasted a fraction of a second. Still, I took it as a win. Once the moment passed, the uncomfortable silence stampeded back in and barreled into us, like that big fuck Calloway in a ballet class. It was this tangible thing that sat on the table and shoved us further apart.

Well screw that. I was sick and tired of being driven away.

“Listen,” I said. “If I did anything to hurt or offend you, I wanted to say I'm sorry.”

As she thought about what I said, Kylie tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, and chewed on it. A host of conflicting emotions slammed into me head on. Lust sent a rush of concentrated heat to my groin while intense longing flopped around inside my heart like a fish out of water.

I coughed and forced myself to stay on topic. “Um, I figured, you know, with the way you ran out of my place, I must've done something wrong.”

Kylie dropped her gaze to the table. The urge to keep talking, to fill the silence with chatter, was so strong I had to concentrate on keeping my mouth shut. After weeks of failed attempts, I had Kylie in close physical proximity. I wasn’t about to ruin it because she needed a little time to work out what she wanted to say. It was the most excruciating moment of my life. Like waiting for an axe to fall and chop off a chunk of my soul.

Finally, she looked up, eyes glistening with tears.

Fuck. Whatever I did was that bad?

“You didn't do anything, Seb.” Kylie sniffed and shook her head back and forth, lips pressed together. “It sounds like such a cliché.” She glanced back up at me. “But I swear, you did nothing wrong. It's all me.”

It’s not you, it’s me. Really.

My pulse stuttered, skipped a beat, then took off at a sprint, as if I topped it off with a shot of high-octane fuel. I figured I would get Kylie to talk to me, she’d explain what happened, tell me I acted like a jerk, that when I did XYZ it made her upset. I'd apologize, she’d forgive me, and everything would go back to how it was before.

“I don't understand,” I admitted.

“And I-I’m sorry… I can't tell you any more.” The moisture in her eyes overflowed in two damp trails that trickled down her cheeks. Without thinking, I reached out and used my thumb to wiped one away. Kylie’s breath hitched and her pupils dilated.

She still wanted me. The knowledge sent my heart soaring, yet only made me more confused. Her mixed messages were killing me.

“I know we can work something out,” I pushed. “I want to see you again.” With my arm still stretched across the table, I opened my hand and pressed my palm against the side of her face. Whether she knew it or not, Kylie leaned in to my touch and rubbed against my hand as if seeking comfort. “You said you wanted to stay with me, at my place that night,” I explained. “That’s what you said before you left. If you wanted to stay, then why leave? I don't understand. I didn't want you to go if that's w