Page 60 of Tell Me When It's Over

Careful? He wants… “Can we change the subject please?” I mean, I met Kyler when he was nineteen. Our long-winded tale started there. I’m not sure I want to know what was on his mind then because he and Chase aren’t the same people.

God. God. Now I’m going to be hyperaware of what may or may not be on Chase’s mind the entire night. I already worried about what might happen if he tried holding my hand. Would I let him? Probably. We’ve never held hands before. Every time we watch movies, there’s usually food between us that we share. Then there’s the likelihood of a first kiss, the one he gives me at the door. If he walks me to the door. I’ve obsessed over this since the moment I opened my eyes this morning. And now that.

Groaning again, I shake my head hoping it’ll rattle out of my thoughts.

Kyler says, “Maybe we should talk—”

“No.” My body is on fire. “No, thank you. I’m good. My mom told me everything I need to know, and I’m well versed on my right to say no. Trust me.”

Bad move. As soon as the words are out, his features sharpen. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Swallowing my words, I part my lips to try back tracking out of a conversation I really don’t want to have right now, but he cuts in again. “Is there something you haven’t told me that I should know about, Leighton?”

Leighton. Not Lenny. Not Lele.

“No. Nothing bad.”

He doesn’t look like he believes me.

“I promise,” I tell him, trying to sound believable. The sketchy places I worked in Phoenix aren’t worth thinking about much less telling Kyler. It’s over. I don’t have to see the men who used to grope my butt or come onto me too strongly, and I definitely don’t have to worry about anyone pushing me to “give them a little sugar” outside the building when I clock out at night or walk to the shady apartment building I resided in with Mom.

Swallowing, I stand on shaky legs. “I promise, Ky,” I repeat more firmly. “I’m just pointing out that I know what ‘no’ means and how to use it.”

The way he stares at me makes me wish I could hit the rewind button and stop myself from even implying the things I’ve experienced. He can’t protect me from other people even if he wants to. And I know he does. He’s Kyler, a self-appointed protector of mine from the start.

It’s sweet but… “You don’t have to worry about me tonight. I’m fine. Chase is nice like we’ve discussed. I’ll be home by eleven.” I have a feeling I’ll be home sooner now that my mind is wrapped around things I really wish it weren’t wrapped around. Instead of telling him that, I give him my best smile. Warm, comforting, one that tells him I’ll be fine because I will. I’m sure of it.

He blows out a breath. It’s small, but heavy, like he’s deflating the worry that’s built up in his lungs. “When did you become so grown up, kid?”

The sentence is an oxymoron and we both know it. He hasn’t called me kid in a while. I thought we were past that, but I guess I was wrong. I don’t have to answer him with words because I think we both already know the answer.

I had to grow up a long time ago.

He opens his arms and I step into him, letting his hug dispel the tension between us. I breathe in the clean soapy scent coming from him and smile to myself when he squeezes me, my nose grazing the column of his throat. “You?

?ll tell me?” he asks quietly, chin resting on my head.

For a moment, I don’t know what he means. Then it clicks, and my smile slips slightly because of course he won’t let it go. He wants to know everything that’s happened to me over the years we weren’t together. But would he really if he knew the details?

Tell me when it’s over, he’d said not long ago.

My voice cracks, “Someday.”

Chapter Seventeen

Leighton / Present Day

The date itself isn’t so bad, but Chase wearing anything other than his favorite graphic tees and jeans is just…weird. And then there’s his hand, which rests on the arm rest between us like he’s inviting me to hold it, but that makes me sweat even more. I try focusing on the movie, but those damn fingers move in my peripheral and I keep thinking about Kyler and his worries. That’s weird too. More than weird.

Sighing inwardly, I settle into the theater seat and watch the flick. He heard me telling Ky I wanted to see it, but Kyler hates going to the movies. He says the seats are uncomfortable and there are too many people, plus the food is overpriced. That makes me laugh because I know how much his stupid waters cost.

When the credits roll, I wait for Chase to get up before I follow suit. The lights barely flicker on before we’re making our way out of the small theater and toward the back entrance that leads to the parking lot. I’ve never been here before, but it’s quieter without the bustle of L.A. and Hollywood traffic that I’m used to listening to in our little subdivision. I like that he kept it in mind so we could enjoy ourselves without people getting into our business. Since we stepped foot into the theater, not one person looked at us in a I-know-you sort of way.

On the walk to his white BMW, which he told me on the drive here he saved up to buy himself even though Garrick offered to spot him the money, our arms brush and I feel a rise of heat creeping up the back of my neck while thinking oh God, this is it. I don’t move away, and feel his fingertips graze the side of my palm, sending shivers through my spine.

Biting my lip, I stop by the passenger door as he opens it, giving me a lopsided smile that makes him look ten times more boyish. I take note of his pale green button down and black jeans, nothing super fancy, but definitely not his usual. I kind of miss the shirts with dorky sayings like the one he wore last time we hung out that said “life is too short to remove the USB safely” or my personal favorite “talk data to me” followed by string of ones and zeros that he had to explain to me because I was clueless.

Chase Matthews is a complete dork. A nerd down to his computer and game loving heart. It’s why I like him, even though the few times he’s tried explaining code to me went straight over my head. “I miss your t-shirts,” I blurt, tugging on the button-down.

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