Finding Kyle(42)

I hate this conversation, but I ask for clarification, “So we’ll have a sexual relationship with an expiration date? I think what you’re saying is that you’re afraid my heart will get tied up in this, so you want to prepare me right off the bat that you’ve got nothing to give in that department, right?”

“Pretty much,” he says bluntly, but then tempers it with, “But we’re friends, Jane. That hasn’t changed.”

“Oh, you mean the type of friends who won’t stay in contact once you leave, right?” My sarcasm is unmistakable.

Kyle doesn’t respond, just stares at me guardedly. Yes, the blush of pleasure is gone and Kyle is down to business. Which means I need to pull my heart out of the equation right now. I have to give him some small measure of credit… at least he is trying to prevent me from getting hurt.

And I know Kyle could totally hurt me down the road.

For that reason, I need to use caution and careful, reasoned thought.

“Let me think about it,” I tell him with truthful candor. “This is a lot for me to consider.”

He blinks slowly as he takes in my words, and I can tell he didn’t expect that. In fact, I can tell he fully expected me to open my arms to him and tell him I’m fine with him having sex with me for the next few months, then we’d both sort of ignore the fact I was falling hard for him. We both know that’s probably how he thought it would go down because, let’s face it… I’m the one who has pursued him from the start.

But I’m really not sure I can handle the limits he’s put in place. While I’ve acted quite impulsively when it has come to Kyle, I need to heed his warning and think very hard about what it would mean to be involved with him and the boundaries he’s laying down. It’s not going to be an easy decision to make, and I’m going to carefully guard my heart throughout all of this.





CHAPTER 18




Kyle


I walk into The Lobster Cage, and my eyes take a few moments to adjust to the dimness. There aren’t any windows in this place; half the lights are burned out and the ones that are lit are on their last leg. The best illumination comes from the handful of neon beer signs hanging on the walls around the joint, casting glowing patches of red and blue depending on the brand of beer they advertise.

It’s starting to get crowded as The Lobster Cage actually serves decent bar food. The single fisherman will eat here while pounding a few beers after a hard day’s work.

That’s why I’m here actually.

To get a semi-decent meal and pound a few beers.

Or forty.

It’s been three days since I walked out of Jane’s house and she said she’d think about what type of relationship she could handle with me. In hindsight, I’m probably a stupid motherfucker for even saying anything. What we had that night… what we did together… it was some amazing shit unlike anything I’ve had before. I’m pretty sure it was the same for her. If I’d have kept my mouth shut, I’d probably be with her right now instead of in this dingy bar with twenty men who smell like salt and fish.

I take an empty barstool, and Gus meanders over to me.

“Haven’t seen you around in a while,” he says conversationally.

I don’t respond to his observation because I’m not feeling conversational. “I’ll take a draft beer and some nachos.”

He grunts in acknowledgment, not in the slightest put out by my brush-off. He’s used to dealing with all types of people, including the surly, anti-social types. He quietly pours my beer and sets it in front of me, then heads off to put my order into the back kitchen where I think his wife works the grill.

I watch the muted TV above the bar while I wait for my food. It’s a baseball game, which isn’t really my sport, but I watch it in silence and sip at my beer.

The nachos come and they’re not bad. Much better than the plain ham sandwiches I’d been having. I have a second beer with my meal.

Then I have a third. And a fourth. And a fifth.

By the sixth, Gus takes my keys and I know I’m walking home, but that’s fine by me. It just means I can add shots of bourbon with my beers. I’m feeling lose, relaxed, and completely not on edge when I think about Jane. In fact, one could say that the alcohol is sort of numbing the feelings of desperation that have been slowly mounting the past three days of not hearing from or seeing her. I mean, forget about the sex. I’m a little put out that I just haven’t seen her, and that’s been pissing me off.

I mean, really… what more does she want? I purposely did outside work the last three days around the cottage and lighthouse, giving her ample opportunity to see me and come talk. Yet not a peep out of her. Tonight, I realized I probably had my answer from her.

She wasn’t going to accept my conditions on a relationship, and frankly, I can’t blame her.

I hold my hand up to get Gus’s attention. When he looks at me, I say, “Just keep them coming all night.”

Gus gives a wry smile and nods, then turns his attention back to the customer he’d been talking to.

I stare at my beer, taking periodic sips and wondering when in the hell I’ll be able to get out of Misty Harbor. Not for a few months as the trial wouldn’t start until then, and I consider perhaps asking Joe to move me earlier.