Page 40 of CurVy 13

TYLER

I couldn’t let him live.

I walk into her house, rocking myself to the melody of Widor and the memory of my girl’s pretty orgasm from last night. I had to do it. I had to stop him. He hurt her.

“I did what I had to do,” I ground as Donnie closes the front door behind us. He locks it and rounds on me.

“You wait!” He grabs a fist full of my shirt and our girl watches on in shocked horror.

I wish that she hadn’t seen that. That’s my only regret. Having to push her away so I could do the deed, having her know and see.

Yeah, that’s my only regret.

I smile, proud. “I did it for us.”

His fist tightens on my shirt, twisting the fabric. Don’t be mad, brother. “You skipped your antipsychotic this morning, didn’t you?”

“Just the one.” I shrug.

“That’s the fucking fast release! You need that one until the others kick in! Damnit, Tyler!”

“I felt good this morning.”

“We could have sorted the douchebag out another time! In private!” He releases me and snaps around, lifts a chair, and throws it against the wall, the wood splintering into pieces. “Not in front of the entire damn city!”

Vallie gasps.

Baby, it’s okay.

I walk to her, cup her cheeks, and stare into her brown-sometimes-orange-and-gold gaze. “I’d do it again, baby. He touched you.”

She pants, bringing her hands up to cover mine. Our eyes meet, our connection sails around us to a C-Major-9 chord. Such a beautiful, longing sound that adds elegance and length—a forever—to any piece.

Her fingers swipe the surface of my skin, over the grooves and cuts, a question flashing in her gaze, yet it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared.

But I understood it: what are these?

“I cut my talent out, baby,” I answer her because I’ll tell her anything at this point.

“Jesus Christ,” Donnie curses, storming into the bedroom and slamming the door shut. Damage control. That’s what he’s all about. “He’ll take care of this.”

“No,” she disagrees, but she doesn’t understand; Donnie fixes everything. “They have your picture, Tyler. And mine, and Oliver is…” Her lower lip wobbles, so I go for it.

I kiss her.

I hold her face and mash our mouths together, feeling her lips wobble between mine until they join my gentle rhythm. She kisses me back. She. Is. Kissing. Me. Back. And the whole fucking world sets to a wild spin.

Pouring all my feelings into this kiss, I offer her meaning and answers with each stroke of my tongue.

I understand you’re sad, baby.

I know it’s scary to see.

But I did it for you.

I love you.

We’re okay.

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