That thought doesn’t sit well with me. I made a vow to myself to wait until her eighteenth birthday to tell her how I feel. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my parents, it’s that once you make a promise, you don’t fucking break it. And I don’t intend on breaking mine.
Kalyn won’t be able to handle what I want with her just yet. She’s still reeling from the loss of her gran, and if I were to drop a bomb on her now about emotions and relationships, it would only send her over the edge.
Even though she flirts, I know she’s not ready. She’s playing with fire, and if I were to give in, she’d only get burned. And the thought of her hurting makes me feel sick.
“Hey, Cass.” Kalyn’s voice comes from behind me before she launches onto my back like a goddamned spider monkey. I chuckle at her excitement and carry her to my car with people watching. The other students have noticed our friendship, some have commented on it, but I never admit to anything.
Yes, I do warn guys off her, but only because I know she’s too fragile right now to get into physical and emotional shit with anyone, including me.
“What’s got you so damn excited?” I let her down when we reach my Jeep before opening the door for her.
“Tonight,” she tells me as if that should be answer enough. But when I arch my brow, she rolls her eyes at me. “We’re doing the barbeque ribs for everyone. You promised.”
“Shit.” I forgot.
“Sometimes, I wonder how old you really are,” Kalyn taunts me, tangling her fingers in my hair. Even though it’s buzzed short, she still loves to tell me I have gray hair.
“Keep that pretty mouth shut, Kaly, or I’ll cancel the ribs,” I threaten, causing her mouth to pop open, and the O makes everything south of my belt buckle throb with need.
Jesus, I need to sort that out before tonight. She does things to me. Only a few more months, and she’ll be eighteen. It will be okay. I know it will.
I drive her home while she changes the music a few hundred times as we make our way through the town and up to the Narro mansion. When I pull up, Kalyn sighs.
“What’s up?”
“I don’t know. There’s a car here I don’t recognize,” she whispers, her focus on the Aston Martin parked behind her father’s Bentley. “I don’t like when they bring friends home. As long as it’s not some shrink who’s here to try to help me,” she sneers, air quoting help me with disdain clear on her pretty face.
“Hey.” I reach for her arm, catching her attention. “If they want you to get better, I think that’s a good thing.”
“I’m not sick, Cassian.”
“I didn’t mean like that,” I tell her. “But talking to someone helps.”
“Talking to you does,” she throws back easily before pushing open the door. “I’ll see you later.” She gets out before I can say anything more as guilt niggles at me. I hate seeing her so sad. And even though I do listen to her when she wants to talk, I’m no professional.
But then again, who knows if some shrink can help.
Flicking on the radio, I head home with Ollie singing “Fading Away” from the speakers. The gentle rap makes my chest tighten as I take in the lyrics. Everything he says is true, and for a long while after I’ve parked, I lean back in my seat and think about just how fucked-up life can be at times.
By the time I head into the kitchen, I grab a beer and swig down a few mouthfuls, and I realize I want something stronger. But I don’t pour a stronger drink because the moment I get lost in alcohol, I won’t be there for her. She needs me more than I need this. I finish my beer and head upstairs.
My phone buzzes when I walk into my room, and I pull the device from my pocket to find Kalyn’s name flashing at me. I don’t think twice before I answer.
“What’s up, Kaly?”
A sob from the other side has my hackles rising. I’m ready to rush out to the car if she asks me to. I’ve always been ready to save her from whatever she’s going through, and maybe that’s been my mistake, but she saved me, so I can’t turn my back on this girl.
And even if I thought I could, I know I wouldn’t because, after all this time, she’s burrowed herself in my heart. We’re not just friends anymore; we’re so much fucking more.
“My folks want us to move,” she whispers as pain laces her words, which only seems to lance my chest. “They’re even talking about leaving in a couple of weeks.”