Page 65 of Tell Me When It's Over

I believe that, even if what we’re talking about isn’t the same thing. Maybe he means he doesn’t know how to be the brother again. Or the step-in parental role. I don’t want that of him though. I want my friend. My confidant. My Prince Charming who’s willing to sweep me off my feet, even if it’s innocent.

But especially if it’s not.

And that thought hits me hard.

I know I shouldn’t want that, but if it keeps Kyler in my life, if I get to keep him, then I’m willing to be selfish enough to hope it comes true. Somehow, someday.

His fingers twitch. “Guess we have to, huh?”

Another nod.

More silence.

Then, “You know I love you, right?” That comes from me, but my voice is small, like I’m worried he doesn’t know that anymore. When was the last time I told him that?

His eyes close as he starts moving his hand away before stopping until only his fingertips are resting on my skin. “I know.” I wait for him to say it back. To say more than those two words that float between us.

But he doesn’t.

“Go back to sleep.”

I almost ask him to stay, to curl up with me until we both get some sleep. It looks like we could each use more. He looks so sad and I want to fix it, but I don’t know how. I know Kyler, though, and he needs to be alone when he’s like this. I murmur an “okay” and watch him walk out, clicking the door shut behind him.

Hugging the pillow closer to me, I feel my heart squeeze in my chest, and I don’t like the heavy feeling that accompanies the ache of awareness Kyler leaves behind.

Refusing to think about it, I turn on my side and force myself back to sleep and try ignoring how silent the rest of the house is because the silence is…eerily deafening.

Chapter Eighteen

Kyler / Present Day

“Have you talked to Mom?” Mia asks, with something rattling loudly in the background. She curses and mumbles under her breath.

“It’s been a week or so. Why?” More background noise has me pulling the phone away from my ear. “What the hell are you doing?”

She answers with a groan. “I’m trying to move furniture out of the room we’re making into the nursery.”

According to the group texts she sends to the family updating us on things I’d usually rather not know, her second trimester is going well. “Shouldn’t somebody else be doing that?”

Her laugh is abrupt, telling me I shouldn’t have asked. “I would have asked you to help me when you were here, but you were too busy whining about your fight with Leighton.”

I tip my head back, resting it on the headboard I’m leaning against. The last thing I want to do is relive what happened between Lenny and me. Even though we both said we’re fine, that we moved on, it lingers silently between us. “Shit. Sorry, sis.”

“Whatever. That’s why Mom wants to hear from you. I told her about your little spat with Lenny Lou, so she wants to know what happened when you grew some balls and went back home.”

Seriously? “You told Mom.”

“Duh.”

I roll my eyes. “I apologized.”

“As you should have,” she chirps.

Releasing a sigh, I shove the notebook off my lap and throw my legs over the side of the bed. Enough writing today. “We’re good now.”

Things were awkward a few days following our argument, but we’ve gone back to our old routine for the most part. At least two meals together. Movie or TV at night. Conversation. She tells me about work, I’ll tell her about my day. We don’t talk about Chase. I can’t help but feel the tension buried under our normalcy. Tension thanks to my prickly ass and the white lies I sprouted.

Scoffing to myself, I pinch the bridge of my nose and think about what I said. There haven’t been any women in my life since coming back here. I’d debated on it, thought maybe it’d release some of the frustration that’s been building, but I didn’t want them around Leighton. And I definitely didn’t want her around them. Not only because I had no clue what they’d say to her, but because I wasn’t sure how she’d see me if she knew the sole pu

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