CHAPTER 23
Jane
“Honestly… I just couldn’t stand one more night of that snuffling noise he made with his nose,” Miranda grumbles as she sips at her coffee across the table from me.
Kyle—who’s seated beside me—lightly knocks his leg against mine in solidarity of amusement, and I have to restrain myself from laughing.
Miranda and I didn’t get home until after one in the morning, and this came after a very messy breakup with her “snuffling” flame. She was extremely drunk, and well… she was extremely honest with him. She did not let him down gently, but her decision was at least ratified somewhat when he said, “I can’t believe you’re that shallow, Miranda, as to let something like that bother you.” Then he snuffled.
Miranda pointed at him and said, “See. You just did it again. I can’t take it.”
It was not a fun night for me, not only because of Miranda’s drama and drunkenness, but mainly because I would have rather spent the time with Kyle.
Tick, tock goes the clock on our relationship.
We’re having breakfast this morning at Tillie’s Shiny Diner and at the invitation of Kyle. He showed up bright and early at my door, waking both of us up—Miranda had passed out on my couch—and offering to buy us breakfast. I was all over that, because even though I’d had only about six hours of sleep, I wanted to spend whatever time I could with Kyle.
He said he was leaving at some point and I believe him, despite the fact we seem to be getting closer.
Tillie’s is a popular hangout and is indeed a shiny diner. The outside is done in bright, reflective silver aluminum, and the inside has red vinyl booths, a black-and-white tiled floor, and a long counter with spinning stools. There’s a vintage jukebox on one end that carries music from the 40s, 50s and 60s. Tillie serves breakfast at all hours, and she makes a killer fried egg.
“Miranda,” I say with a bit of brutal honesty myself. “All bodily noises aside, you need to stop getting charmed by a man’s pretty face and take closer stock of what they bring to the table.”
“You got sidetracked by Kyle’s pretty face,” she retorts at me, and Kyle actually snickers even though his head remains bowed over the newspaper he’s reading. “Actually, if I recall… it was his body. You were going on and on about how hot his abs were while he was pressure washing the lighthouse.”
“Miranda,” I exclaim indignantly at the same time Kyle’s head whips my way. I don’t bother looking at him as I glare at my best friend. She grins right back at me.
“Thought I was hot, huh?” Kyle says, and I turn my head to look at him.
“Oh, shut up,” I snarl to mask my total embarrassment. “You totally know you’re hot.”
Kyle’s eyes crinkle with amusement, and if I’m not mistaken, a little bit of pride. He shakes his head and goes back to reading his newspaper, but his hand slips under the table to rest on the top of my thigh. It’s a bold move, but it’s equally sweet, and there’s nothing but a gentle intimacy to the action. It’s something that Kyle has apparently been getting more comfortable with, as evidenced also by the spontaneous kiss he gave me yesterday during our picnic.
“Anyway,” I say as I turn back to Miranda. “Don’t you think it’s time you started looking at what’s underneath the hood rather than the exterior?”
Miranda snickers, totally reading my words as dirty rather than metaphorical. “I can’t help it, Janey. I love me a hot man, and it’s even better if he’s a bad boy. I personally don’t care about anything past that other than snuffling. I can’t deal with that apparently.”
I sigh. I love Miranda so very much, but I don’t think she’ll ever grow up. I’m pretty confident she’ll never settle down, and I’m outright positive she won’t get involved with a guy seriously. After what her parents went through and the public spectacle it made, she’s about the most anti-commitment person I know.
Well, other than Kyle.
“For example,” Miranda says dramatically and nods her head at something behind me. “That guy right there totally needs to be warming my bed.”
I roll my eyes but turn in the booth to look behind me. There’s a man sitting at the end of the counter, drinking a cup of coffee and looking right back at Miranda. He quirks a pair of sexy lips and nods at her. I can feel Kyle shift in the booth as he looks back as well.
We both turn back, Kyle’s head tipping down again to read the newspaper and me rolling my eyes at Miranda. “Seriously?”
Miranda is still staring at the guy and her look is blatantly inviting. Without taking her eyes off him, she addresses me, “Oh, come on, Jane. I get you got your own hottie sitting next to you, but that guy is perfectly delicious. Leather jacket, goatee, tattoos. Total biker badass, and that is right up my alley.”
“He’s no biker,” Kyle says in a low but authoritative voice, never looking up from the paper.
“Excuse me?” Miranda says, her eyes now sliding over to Kyle with curiosity.
He looks up and shrugs. “He’s not a biker. Not like what you’re thinking. All rough and dangerous and slightly criminal. Sure, he might ride recreationally, but he’s not the type of badass you’re looking for, if that’s really what you’re looking for.”
Miranda harrumphs and her eyes go back to the guy, not willing to let Kyle rain on her parade.
But now my curiosity is piqued. “How do you know that?” I ask.
He turns toward me in the booth, his arm going around the back where his fingers brush against my shoulders. He gives a slight, nonchalant shrug. “I’ve hung around my fair share of bikers.”
His smile is open and his words are light, but I see something deep in his eyes that troubles me. I have no doubt he’s hung around his share based on how confident he sounds and I hear the ring of truth, but I get the feeling that his experience was far from good.
“Did you ride with a gang or something?” I ask.
A dark, painful flash in Kyle’s eyes, but before he can answer me, a cell phone ringing pierces the air around us. My eyes immediately drop down as Kyle leans to the side, extends a leg, and fishes a small phone out of his front pocket. It’s not a smartphone, not even a flip phone, but a small, plain black unit with a digital screen big enough to only hold perhaps a phone number.
He brings the phone to his ear as he starts to slide out of the booth. “Talk to me,” is how he answers.
My hand shoots out and I touch his forearm, my head tilted and my gaze questioning. Kyle tells whoever is on the other line, “Hold on just a sec.”
Then he covers the phone with his hand and raises his eyebrows, indicating he’s waiting for me to ask a question.
Sliding my gaze to the cell and then back to him, I say, “I thought you said you didn’t have a cell phone?”
There’s no pause, no stutter, and no guilt in his eyes. He simply says, “Just got it the other day.”
“Oh,” I murmur, accepting it, but wondering why he didn’t tell me or give me his number.
“I gotta take this call,” he says, and then leans over and kisses me on the top of my head. “Be right back.”
Kyle turns and walks out of the diner, the phone back to his ear. I watch as he heads down the sidewalk a bit, one hand tucked in his pocket while he listens to whoever is on the other end.
“Does that bother you?” Miranda asks, ever observant of me. She knows me all too well.
I shrug. “Maybe a little. I wonder why he didn’t tell me.”
“Did you see how basic that thing was?” she says as she comes to his defense. “He’s clearly not a techie type of guy, and I’m betting he prefers to just walk over to your house to talk to you.”
That’s all true. He comes over whenever he wants to be with me, although I haven’t quite had the guts to just meander over to his because I want to see him. Yes, I get that’s contrary to the fact that I regularly showed up on his doorstep back in the day when we were first getting to know each other, but now that sex is involved, I guess I’m just being a little old fashioned. I’m not sure I’m ready to march over there with a “do me, baby” type of come-on, although I’m sure Kyle would definitely take me up on it.
“Hell yeah,” Miranda murmurs in a low, sexy tone of appreciation. She’s looking back over my shoulder. Before I can even turn to see what she’s looking at—presumably the hot-biker-not-actually-biker type guy—he’s at our table and Miranda’s sliding over to let him in.
I try not to let my jaw drop as he turns slightly to face her, completely ignoring me, and says to her, “I’m Steve. And you are too beautiful for me not to come over here and let you know that.”
I roll my eyes, which I can do because neither one of them is looking at me.
Miranda flutters her eyelashes and holds her hand out. “Miranda.”
Steve pulls it to his mouth and kisses her knuckles, and I shake my head. I’ve seen enough Sons of Anarchy and I can tell you for sure that Jax Teller would never do that. He’s totally not a biker like Kyle says, but Miranda eats that shit up and doesn’t see it for what it is… just a way to get into her pants.
To my surprise, Steve releases her hand and reaches across the table toward me in an invitation to shake his hand. He holds it out palm sideways and says in a more businesslike tone, “And you must be the wary best friend. I’m Steve.”
I shake his hand, a little mollified that he wants to impress Miranda by seeking my approval. “Jane.”
Steve gives me a quick shake and lets me go as he asks, “Hope your boyfriend isn’t going to be pissed I came over here like this,” he says as he nods out the window to where Kyle is still talking on the phone. “Not going to kick my ass, is he?”
This guy Steve has a decent build. Might even be an inch or so taller than Kyle. But if he was truly a badass biker, he would not be worried about anyone kicking his ass. Seems Kyle totally called that one correctly.
I give Steve a reassuring smile. “No ass kicking. He’s cool.”
Although I know without a doubt that Kyle would not be cool if Steve’s attentions were directed my way. Kyle may not be a long-haul type of man—a thought which saddens me with each passing day—but I do know he’s proprietary. He’s given the evil eye to a few guys who have looked at me a little too appreciatively when we’ve been out and about.
Steve turns back to Miranda. “I’m in a bit of a rush to get to work, but I was wondering if I could call you sometime?”
Miranda’s eyes, which are surprisingly clear despite her drunkenness last night and thanks to Visine, sparkle with interest. “Only if you promise to use it to call immediately. I am on the prowl for my next boy-toy after all.”
“Good grief,” I mutter under my breath, but both of them ignore me.
I sip at my coffee, my gaze wandering to look out the window at Kyle. His back is to me, but his posture seems stiff and defensive. My imagination runs wild as to who it could be, since while we’ve been very intimate with each other, about the only real thing I’ve seemed to glean from him is that he has no real family and no close friends. This should make me happy because I am what I believe to be a friend to him, but I not only find it sad, I find it to be disconcerting as well. I know no one who is that much alone in life.
Miranda and Steve exchange contact information, and after Steve promises to call Miranda that very night after he gets off work, he makes his exit. Five seconds later, Kyle is sliding back in the booth beside me.
“What did that guy want?” he asks as he looks at Miranda, and I’m surprised how keenly aware he must have been of what was going on inside the diner while he was on the phone.
“My body,” she says pertly and gives him a wicked grin over the edge of her coffee cup. “And he just might get lucky tonight.”
I actually expect Kyle to say something at this point in the way of a warning, because she’s my friend and I assume he’d be a little protective of her. I’ll, of course, read her the riot act later, but it will fall on deaf ears as it always does.
But Kyle doesn’t say a word. Instead, he reaches into his back pocket for his wallet as he asks me, “You about ready to go?”
“Um, yeah,” I say guardedly as I sneak a quick glance at Miranda.
She shoots me a small shrug, and then looks over at Kyle. “What’s your rush, big guy?”
Kyle slides from the booth, grabs the check the waitress had left about fifteen minutes ago after we’d eaten and were enjoying more coffee, and then holds his hand out to me. I take it, and he pulls me from the booth as he grins down at Miranda. “Appreciate you letting me in on that little secret that Jane was lusting after my body,” he tells her with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “She’s been a little shy with me so far in bed, and I think now is the perfect opportunity to let her explore a bit.”
“You… you…” I sputter with embarrassment as I yank my hand away from his. “You did not just say that to her.”
Miranda, at this point, is laughing, clearly enjoying my torment. I’m not anywhere as sexually liberated as Miranda is, and I tend to let my partner lead. Now, granted, a flush of excitement went through me when he said I was going to get to explore, but I didn’t want him to make a billboard announcement about it.
“Come on, Jane,” Kyle says huskily as he takes my hand again and brings it up to his lips. He grazes the back of my knuckles, and I realize my perception may be wrong about bikers. I can totally imagine Kyle in a biker gang, but that soft kiss on my knuckles was not in the slightest bit out of place.
I kept my swooning sigh internalized, and I gladly let him lead me out of Tillie’s Shiny Diner and back to his house.