Page 26 of Kyle

“Since I have a knife in my hand, I guess you’re lucky it’s only an onion I’m attacking.”

“Hey.”

“What?” I ask, without looking at him.

“Sutton?”

“What?” I say again.

“Put the knife down.”

I do and finally look at him.

“You didn’t answer my question. How are things between you and my brother?”

“It’s none of your business, Kyle.”

He drags in a breath. “Maybe not, but I’d want to know if he wasn’t treating you right.”

I cross my arms. “And what would you do about it?”

“Beat the shit out of him,” he says without hesitation.

I read the truth in the depths of his eyes. “Would you?”

“Absolutely.”

“I appreciate your concern, but he and I…”

“What?”

“We’re fine. Everything’s fine.”

“Why doesn’t it sound like it?” He growls, like he’s at the end of his patience.

Green walks up to the window. “Hey, Kyle. Fill me up a plate, will ya?”

“Sure, man.” Kyle goes about it, and while he does, I pitch in, grabbing some onion rings hot out of the fryer, then passing Kyle a container of dipping sauce.

“You two work good together,” Green says, taking the plate from Kyle. “Thanks, man.”

After he walks off, I busy myself chopping onions. Green’s right—Kyle and I do work well together, and I look forward to seeing him every day. I realize I’m happier on the days I know I’m going to be spending it with Kyle. It’s a feeling I know I don’t have with Rafe. He’s fun, and we have a good time, but it’s like there’s no depth to our relationship. I don’t think we’ve had a single conversation about anything serious.

“Sorry I snapped at you.” Kyle leans a hip against the counter.

“You want to know what I think?” I ask.

“Of course. I mean… I know I can be gruff, and I’ve given you a hard time, but you’re a good worker, and your views, opinions, and feelings matter to me.”

My mouth drops open. I stand there for a second before I blink and gather myself to reply.

“That may be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I whisper.

“God, I hope not,” he replies and wipes his hands on a rag.

When I don’t reply, he tilts his head, studying me.

“My brother doesn’t say things like that? He doesn’t tell you you’re important to him?”

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