Page 118 of Tell Me When It's Over

“What?”

“I’ve never been in a situation like that before, Lenny. Truthfully, I’ve never given anybody the chance.”

Her brows raise. “What about the girls I used to see you post pictures with? There was that really pretty redhead with the bright blue eyes one time that people kept saying you were seeing.”

A small grin kicks up the corners of my lips at her obvious research. “Keeping tabs on me, are you?”

Her cheeks turn pink. “You know I follow you on Instagram. Mia even mentioned that you were dating somebody. The point is, I’ve seen the girls you’ve been seen with. Why haven’t you given any of them a chance? They’re all very pretty.”

That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? The same one that Mom asks. And Mia. Fuck, Gordy too. They’ve all wanted to know why I’m so set on not settling down. If Mia hadn’t married Dylan, I’m sure Mom would have begged me to date a lot sooner so she could become a grandmother in this lifetime.

It isn’t like there haven’t been girls who I’ve considered doing the long-term thing with someday. But eventually they stopped being what I was looking for, which is something I haven’t defined even after all these years of one-night stands and pastime hookups. Their personalities aren’t friendly enough, their intentions never pure. I’d find one thing or another to stop it. They would ask me to communicate more, I would tell them there’s never anything to say, and that would be the end. I’d become another girl down and the muse to whoever the male equivalent of Taylor Swift is.

Looking down at Leighton, who’s blinking up at me with a curiosity sparking those smoky eyes, I can’t help but wonder what life would have been like if I had chosen one of those other girls to be with. There’s no way they would appreciate the close-knit relationship I have with the girl in my lap, innocent or not. And for many years, it has been. Innocent. But could I say the same now, when I study the way her bottom lip is fuller than her top one, or how there’s a faint scar marring the corner of them that you’d only see if you stared hard enough?

The reason I’ve never let anybody in on our dynamic is less about what they’d complain about, and more on what they’d accuse me of. To some degree, they’d have a right to question the way I look at the nineteen-year-old who spends as much time in my bed sleeping as I do. Or how our routine has become flawless in prosecution because of how many times we’ve executed it. Mia would always get pissed off over how easy things have been between Leighton and me, and I’d rub it in her face because she always had to work a little harder toward their relationship. Not because Lenny made it hard for her, but because there was always some link between us that just happened to make things effortless. Like an invisible string that keeps us attached at all times, wrapping us up in each other without anyone else knowing. It’s fate’s cruel joke—the boy and girl whose circumstances put them together and ripped them apart.

No matter the doubts I had after she showed up, I always played along with the title Harry so quickly granted her. The paperwork first confirming her spot in our family only deterred my belief for a little while before less started adding up. Her lack of attributes from Harry, the personality differences, the way her mother acted whenever her “father” was brought up. It didn’t matter when I found out the truth from the PI I’d hired, because Leighton Grier was going to be a permanent fixture in our family no matter whose blood she shared. It was for selfish purposes. That was why I didn’t use the information I’d gotten after they’d moved. I paid a heavy sum for the truth, and an even heavier one for the dickwad to stay silent about it. Apparently, that number wasn’t enough though, because the second Harry found out about Lenny’s bloodwork, I knew who’d given him the files.

There isn’t much I wish I could take back in life because, realistically, we’d always end up right here. Watching Lenny walk away, my sister cry, my sperm donor act like he lost a piece of himself probably for the first time in his life, was all because of me. Had Mia’s scandal with Dylan not made headlines and garnered more investigative work in what the Bishops have been up to, maybe we could have played house a little longer.

Or maybe it was always meant to end.

Thing is, I was never going to keep her out of my life forever. I’d planned on letting her live her life, however that may be, without me until we were both old enough to come back together. If she wanted that. I’d never force her to do anything that she didn’t want to, even if that meant never seeing her again.

“Kyler?” A hand comes up and brushes my jaw, jerking me out of my head. “What are you thinking about?”

Nostrils twitching, I shake my head. “It isn’t important right now. Listen, the thing about relationships is that there’s never a wrong kind unless you’re in it for the wrong reasons. Chase and you—” Why the fuck is this so hard? “He was good for you, but that doesn’t mean he was it for you.”

There’s a moment of silence, of contemplation, before she eventually nods. “I guess so. I wish I knew what I was doing though. Chase was so…he was so mad, Ky. And he had every right to be.”

My body goes rigid as I narrow my gaze at her. “Are you sure you don’t want me to kick his ass?”

She rolls onto her back and looks up at the ceiling, blowing out a heavy breath. “There’s no need. Everything he said was justified. Well, yelled, technically.”

Jaw ticking, my hand clenches around a fistful of blanket. “He yelled at you?” The question comes out slowly, ca

lculated as ideas swarm my thoughts over how to get to his house and have a one-on-one without his mother calling the cops or his brother hunting me down.

“It’s not a big deal,” she tells me again, though I refuse to believe that. “He made a lot of points that I’ve been ignoring. We barely talked about anything other than school or work, we never…well, that’s not important. It stopped feeling like we were dating a while ago but kept pretending anyway. That’s why I wish I knew what I was doing, so I can stop hurting people.”

“Who the hell have you hurt?” Doubt is thick in my hard tone. “Len, look at me. You broke up with your boyfriend, that’s going to be hard for everyone involved. But people tend to break up because both parties are at fault for one reason or another. You can’t table all the blame.”

Our eye contact falters when she admits, “Technically, he broke up with me, and the biggest reason is because I wouldn’t talk to him about…stuff.”

I blink, even more tempted to find a horse head and put it in his bed or some shit. “Nobody knows what they’re doing in a relationship. You learn as you go, okay? Don’t beat yourself up because it didn’t work between you two.” I don’t tell her that I’m glad it didn’t because I can tell she’s upset about the situation.

There’s a playful tint to her eyes as she jabs a finger into my stomach, only easing some of the tension built into my squared shoulders since sitting down. “How would you know, oh wise one? You’re apparently the last person to ask about relationships.”

Snorting, I swat her hand away, then capture it with my own, threading our fingers together. Her gaze dips to where I rest our joined palms on her stomach, lips pressing together to suppress the smile that twitches on her lips. “I may not be an expert, but what I do know is that relationships are a lot of work, and sometimes they don’t work out. In the long run, it’s better when they end.”

She blinks, then slowly narrows her eyes at me. “You’re sort of a cynic, you know that?”

I laugh, surprised by her causal comment as she eyes me with skepticism. “All I mean is that sometimes there are relationships that don’t work out for the better. You’ll know when they’re worth it when you realize you can talk to that person without it being forced, or be silent with that person without being uncomfortable, and joke about anything even if it’s awkward. That’s the kind of relationship you fight for. And when you get into arguments, which is going to happen no matter how many couples act like they’re perfect, you don’t let it break you and you don’t walk away.

“Don’t give me that look, Leighton. I don’t know what happened today between you two, but I’m going to be real with you. The kind of guy you want is one that will piss you off, annoy you, and say the stupidest shit that he’ll want to take back in an instant. Which means he’ll also be the person who will do anything to win you over to earn your forgiveness. That kind of guy, that man, is one who will feel about a thousand different things all because of you, which means he won’t know which way is up until he sorts through his shit. It also means that you won’t find another love like his, even if you tried to.”

Blowing out a breath, I watch her unblinking eyes scope out my face leisurely, looking at one eye, then the other, trailing down to my nose, lips, and back up until she finally lets out a tiny breath. The hand I’m holding gets squeezed, and just as she loosens her grip, I tighten mine. “Are you sure you’ve never been in a relationship, Ky? Because it sounds like you know what that feels like.”

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