Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

DANI

D arkness surrounds us as we fly over winding country streets with nothing more than the headlight illuminating our way. Lights come into view as Kyle hits the highway, speeding faster and faster.

I don't know how long we ride for, hours for sure, and probably close to two tanks of gas because Kyle stops once to silently refuel. In the harsh, artificial whiteness of the gas station lights, I can see the streaky trails of tears on his face that have nothing to do with the wind making his eyes water behind his sunglasses. So when he pulls away again, I keep my arms wrapped around him and hold on, feeling the war raging inside him and wishing there were something I could do to help him.

He said earlier that a ride helps him clear his head, so maybe this is exactly what I can do… just be with him while he processes the bomb he detonated tonight. I don't think he went in planning to have that conversation, but it's understandably been weighing heavily on his mind, and at the slightest trigger, he went off. It was hard for me to watch, and I imagine even worse for Kyle to go through, so if this what he needs right now, we can ride forever as far as I'm concerned.

It kinda feels like we do because it's late… or well, early in the morning, when he eventually turns into my driveway. I climb off, removing my helmet, but he doesn't shut the bike off. "Come inside."

His jaw set, he shakes his head. If I had a lick of sense, I'd leave him be. But nobody's ever called me smart, so I shut Lucille off myself, taking his key. "It wasn't a question. Come. Inside."

His sigh is heavy with the weight of the world, but he cooperates, setting the kickstand and climbing from the bike to follow me to the front door with his head hanging low. Inside, I take his hand, pulling him to the bedroom, and start undressing him. He lets me take his shirt off, but when I reach for his belt, his stomach tightens and he puts his hand on mine, stopping me. "Dani?—"

"Let's take a shower. Wash it all away," I tell him.

He relents, his hand going lax, and I undo his belt, button, and then zipper. He toes his boots off and pushes his jeans and underwear down his legs, stepping out of them and his socks while I undress myself. Naked, I lead him to the bathroom, where he stands with his eyes on the floor while I turn the water to lava-level heat. I think that's what it's going to take to bring him back to life.

Once it's warm, I guide him to step in, and he instantly stands beneath the spray, putting his hands on the wall to let the water pelt over his head. I get in behind him and plaster myself to his back, wrapping my arms around him. I can feel the thud of his heart pounding against my palm and I pray that my presence is enough because there's nothing else I can do but let him absorb my support and strength through our skin.

He's quiet for a long time, though I feel the occasional hitch of his breathing like he's crying again. "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay," I whisper over and over, mostly because I don't know what else to say.

"It made sense," he mutters some time later. "Right? I'm not crazy for thinking it made sense, am I?"

"No, you're not crazy. You've been hurt and you're trying to understand why the people who are supposed to love you unconditionally haven't," I assure him. "Or haven't shown you they do, at least."

He spins, his hands coming to cup my face and his nose mere inches from mine. "I fuck everything up. Please tell me I didn't fuck this up too." His voice is rough, laced with pain and fear.

I put my hands on his, holding him to my face as I shake my head. "No, we're fine. Nothing's changed. I choose you." He lets out a shaky breath, sending water droplets onto my lips, and I lick them, needing to show my acceptance of him, no matter what. "Who you are to me and who you are to them isn't the same thing. Maybe one day, they'll see the man you've become, but it doesn't have to be tonight."

I lift my chin, slowly moving my mouth toward his. Just a kiss, that's all he has the mental space for, but I want him to know, without a doubt, that I'm not abandoning him. I see him, I want him, I think… I'm falling in love with him.

I press my lips to his, gently at first, but Kyle takes over, turning it into something much more desperate. He tilts his head, consuming me like I'm his lifeline, and truthfully, I might be. I told him I didn't need anyone to save me because I've been doing it myself my whole life. I think maybe Kyle's been saving everyone else, putting them in the lifeboat while he drowns and never giving himself a true chance to live.

But if he won't save himself, then I will.

I pull away, bringing his forehead to mine and meeting his sad eyes with flames growing high in my own. Kayla was wrong. Kyle doesn't need me to burn his ego to the ground. He did that a long time ago, only putting it back in place like protective armor when he's around his family. What Kyle needs is someone to stand at his side while he burns his past self down and stands proudly in the ashes as the man he's become. And I can do that. Hell, I can hand him a match and shield him from the flames.

"Kyle, wake up," I tell him. He's sprawled across my bed, naked and softly snoring. He slept fitfully all night, mumbling in his sleep and tossing and turning, so I'd let him sleep longer if I could, but Wayne, Zeus, and Frogger are already next door and I saw them grinning at Kyle's bike being in my driveway before another morning's work begins.

"Wha…?" he murmurs and then slowly, his eyes peel open. He squints against the brightness, throwing his arm over his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Almost eight. The guys pulled up about five minutes ago. Coffee's ready for you," I tell him.

He groans, and I move away from the edge of the bed, but he unexpectedly shoots up, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me with him as he lies back down. I land askew, half on top of him and half on the bed with a leg hanging over the edge. I let out a cry of surprise, smiling at the sudden position change, but when I meet Kyle's eyes, his are serious, not playful.

"Thank you," he says. His thumb is tracing circles on my shoulder, and his gaze follows like he's afraid I'm going to have changed my mind by the light of day. Or maybe he's just realizing how big the implications of last night are with his family.

I think that's the bigger weight on his mind, but just in case, I lay a smacking kiss on his lips. "Anything, anytime, pendejo ." I'm going back to his playbook, guessing he needs some levity this morning. But I also add, "It's fixable. With your family, I mean… it's fixable if you want it to be."

He ducks his chin, nodding, and lets me go.

I don't think he believes me, but I truly mean it. While he was replaying everything over and over on our ride, I was too. All the ugly, painful moments, but also the teasing, lighter ones. There's some dysfunction, for sure, but what family is perfect? None that I know of. And what's wrong with Kyle and his family can be improved with work. And if there's one thing I know Kyle's good at, it's working his ass off.

I head back to the kitchen and pour him a to-go cup of coffee, leaving it on the table as I head out back. But I stop and stare at the steaming cup of coffee and think about how I'm serving him the way Mama does with Papa. I wait for the anger and resentment to come, but it doesn't. In fact, it doesn't feel subservient at all. It feels like I care about Kyle, which I do.

Maybe that's the case for Mama too? It's something to think about because I've never considered the way she acts in that framework. Could that be why she does so much for Papa? Could it be as simple as that, she loves him and wants the best for him?

Still thinking that over, I open the grill, setting my big foil pan of corn on the cob on the barely warm surface. It'll cook slower this way as the grill heats and be ready for the early lunch crews and the noontime ones too.

"Hey, Dani, you keeping the bossman extra late this morning?" Frogger calls out from Kathy's back yard, humping and smacking the air in front of him. I'm instantly sorry for his girlfriend or whoever he fucks because the faces he's making are an immediate ick, enough to turn anyone off. Maybe that's why he goes at it from behind?

"He'll be there when he gets there," I answer shortly.

"We've got work to do, ya know." Zeus is getting involved now, his face nearly taken up by a huge, teasing grin.

I throw a hand on my hip. "You two can't do it yourselves?" When they shake their heads, I add, "I swear, I could order a truckful of dumbasses, get just one of you, and I would've gotten my money's worth." I know I sound bitchy, but if Kyle needs a minute, these two aren't gonna stop him from taking it. Not on my watch.

"True story," Wayne interjects, nodding solemnly. But he seems to catch on that something's up—maybe with my mood, maybe with Kyle—but either way, he needs to get the guys out of the line of my fire. "Come on, dipshits. We know what needs to get done so let the lady do her own work too."

Wayne throws a hand up at me, herding the two younger guys toward the back section of the yard and telling them, "Hardscape pavers will lay out here, offset in a diamond pattern."

The guys groan but get to work, measuring out whatever they're doing to Kathy's yard.

I go back inside just in time to see Kyle helping Nessa bring my groceries in the front door. I expect her to be all ‘Sugarbear this' and ‘Sugarbear that', and teasing me about showing up to find me with company again. Instead, she shoots me a worried look and mouths, "What's wrong?"

I mouth back, "Family stuff."

If there's one thing Nessa understands, it's that family can be complex, so she instantly drops it, along with two more bags on my living room floor before she hurries back outside to get more.

Kyle picks them up, sets them in the kitchen for me, and then grabs the coffee. "Thank you. For everything."

I wrap my arms around his waist. "You're welcome. For everything. Go boss the guys around, dig a hole with your bare hands, or something else physical to get some of the stress out, and then I'll bring lunch over later. Sound good?"

He presses a kiss to my forehead. "Yeah, but once I check on the guys, I need to pick up Peanut Butter at Maggie's and take him home, so I might not be back by lunch. The guys will appreciate it, though."

"Fuck that. I was willing to feed you. They were getting fringe benefits. If you won't be back, they can eat their sandwiches after giving me shit this morning." I smile, trying to lighten things for him, and he puts effort into returning it, but it's half-hearted and weak at best. More seriously, I say, "I didn't realize Peanut Butter was at Maggie's." I feel bad that I didn't think about the dog even though we were gone all afternoon, evening, and night, but I'm not surprised Kyle did. He's good like that, always thinking of everyone else.

"Yeah, I went back out there to check on the puppies and took him with me. He didn't want to leave and I wasn't sure what I was gonna do with dinner, so Maggie said he could stay. She's fine with him being there as long as I need him to be, especially since he keeps the other dogs in check for her. But even at home, he's got a dog door to access the yard, automatic water and food dispensers, and free reign of the house. Hell, he already thinks I'm his guest-slash-servant, so a night getting to sleep in the middle of the bed would be a sweet deal to him. But he probably had a blast at Maggie's even if he had to sleep on a dog bed on the floor."

"How're the puppies doing?" I ask, trying to keep things on the positive tip.

"Whiskey took them all. They're nursing alongside her own pups," he says, and I know he's happy about that, but his face is blank as he reports on Peanut Butter, Whiskey, and the puppies.

"Good." I'm about to say more, though I don't know what to say, but Nessa kicks at the front screen.

"Oh, don't worry, I've got the rest of them. I don't need no help," she grunts, her arms loaded down with about half her bodyweight in bags.

Kyle instantly moves to the door, opening it and taking the load from her.

"Just set them down. I know you need to get going," I tell him, and he sends me a grateful look. He waves and steps outside.

Nessa turns demanding eyes my way. "What is going on, girl?"

I sigh, grabbing the bags at her feet and gesturing toward the kitchen with a jerk of my head. "Come on, I'll give you the long story short version."

As I unpack the groceries, I tell her about my blow-up at Costco, Kyle chasing me to my car, and then going to the dog rescue where he volunteers. I swear hearts are popping out of her eyes. "He rescues dogs?"

"Well, he works with the lady who rescues them, doing odd jobs for her."

"Same thing," Nessa declares.

Then, I tell her about Kyle showing up unexpectedly, taking me for a ride, and inviting me to his family dinner. I don't share about his family's financial situation because it doesn't matter to me. Kyle is who he is, and that's I care about. When I tell her about Kyle going off on his Dad—leaving out why because that's his story to share or not—she gasps.

"If I talked to my Daddy some sort of way like that, he would've taught me a thing or two about a thing or two, and that's for sure," Nessa says before her face sours. "May he rest in pieces."

She looks up at the ceiling like she's praying, but the truth is, Nessa doesn't know if her father is alive or dead. He walked out when her mom's dementia got bad enough to require constant care, and she hasn't heard from him since. She has a lot of feelings about that, because he was a good father for her when she was younger, but walking out on your sick wife, leaving your daughter to care for her, doesn't exactly win you Father of the Year awards in anybody's book, least of all, Nessa's.

"Yeah, I don't really know all of it. But you've met Kyle? Big, loud, confident to the point of cocky, right?" She nods, her expression one of ‘duh'. "With his family, he amps that up to the extreme, they roll their eyes like ‘that's Kyle', and then they kinda ignore him. And he goes invisible."

Nessa balks, pointing toward the front door where Kyle left. "That man? Goes invisible?"

I hold my arms out wide, as confused as she is. "Right?"

"What's he gonna do?"

"I don't know," I sigh. "I told him it's fixable, but that's up to him."

Nessa leans toward me, pinning me with a serious look. "More importantly, what're you doing with him? I told you to get some dick, but long rides, deep conversations, meeting the family? Girl, that man is gone for you. G-O-N-E, gone."

It's admittedly been a huge couple of days—for Kyle, for me, and for us.

I lick my lips, knowing that once I say it, I can't take it back. "I'm falling in love with him," I admit.

I wait for the chains to wrap around me, tying me down and linking me to a man who will always put himself and his pride first. But they don't come. Instead of feeling trapped, I feel free. Because Kyle isn't that type of man. He puts everyone else first to his own detriment, which is something he's got to work on.

But where I fought against any relationship because I didn't think being myself inside one was possible, Kyle makes me feel like who I am and what I have to offer are more than enough.

I just want him to know I feel the same way about him—he's enough, he's worthy, and he's very much loveable.

Nessa claps her hands and stomps her feet happily. "I knew it! I mean, who could blame you? Sugarbear's a sexy man."

"Hey," I snap, arching a brow at her, but she laughs, not serious enough to warrant any real jealousy on my part. "It's not about that. It's about how he lets me be me."

She cocks her head, looking dubious.

"Fine, and he's sexy."

She snaps her fingers and points at me triumphantly. "Knew it."

But as she leaves and I get back to cooking for the day, it's not Kyle's sexiness that's on my mind. It's how hurt he was last night, and if I could, I would take that pain away from him in an instant.