The Bad Boy Bargain (Suttonville Sentinels #1)(41)
So why do it? Why put a stop to the beginning of a really sweet relationship? Had she done something so wrong to make him give her the old “it’s not you, it’s me”?
He parked at her curb. Like usual, Dad was sitting in the window, reading. She turned to Kyle. “I don’t why you’re doing this, and I don’t believe the rumors about you are true. I think we could be good together. If you change your mind, I’ll listen. But I won’t wait around forever.”
She got out of the car and slammed her door shut. Despite everything, Kyle waited at the curb until she made it inside. Then he was gone in a sweep of headlights.
Dad stood when she came in. “How was your—pumpkin, are you all right?”
She shook her head. “No. I’d like to go to bed, please.”
“Did he hurt you?” Dad growled.
“Not in any way you’d want revenge for.” She climbed the first three stairs slowly. “He doesn’t want to see me anymore, that’s all. I don’t have any idea why.”
Dad nodded. “Sometimes teenage boys are idiots.”
Tears welled in Faith’s eyes, but she laughed. “You’re telling me.”
“Get some sleep. It’ll look better in the morning,” he said, reaching up to catch her hand. “It always does.”
She nodded and climbed the stairs the rest of the way to her room. Her phone had been vibrating nonstop since they left Dolly’s, but she didn’t have the heart to wade through all the texts and Snapchat notifications. She set the phone to “do not disturb” and crawled into bed even though it was only eight thirty. She doubted Dad’s advice was right, but sleeping off the pain couldn’t hurt.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Kyle
Kyle took every turn on the winding road to his house too fast, screeching his tires and barely keeping control of his car. He didn’t care. He was too hurt, too stupid, too mean to worry about something as simple as keeping the Charger on pavement.
He pushed the speedometer up to eighty. If his dad caught him, he’d be grounded a month. That didn’t sound so bad. He’d take a month of house arrest as punishment for what he did to Faith. He hated himself, every last cell, but he had to do it. He had to. He couldn’t hurt her more by letting her believe in him. She’d hate him more if he tried to keep her, rather than doing the right thing and letting her go before she was too caught up.
He swerved into the driveway and screeched to a halt in front of the garage. The light over the stairs at the front door turned on. Cursing under his breath, he pulled into the garage and climbed out of the car. Once there, though, his feet wouldn’t carry him, and he turned to punch the kickboxing bag Dad had given him to work out with. He punched it again. And again, and again.
The automatic lights in the garage shut off, leaving him raging in the dark. He threw himself against the Charger, slamming his back onto the driver’s side door, and covered his face with his hands. He ruined everything. Everything. Was his disguise worth it? After Dolly’s, Cameron and his buddies were going to be on his ass anyway, and they weren’t in eighth grade anymore. Kyle was bigger. Stronger. And now he had his team to back him up. At this point, though, it was three months to graduation. Dropping the act now would screw him over worse. People would look back over the last four years and school would be unbearable. He’d never be able to show his face around town.
Better to forget Faith and finish what he’d started.
The overhead light snapped on. Kyle dropped his hands, worried it was Dad, but Grandpa stood framed in the side door that led to the house. “Kid? What is it?”
Kyle slid down the side of the car and sat on the garage floor. “I blew it, Grandpa.”
Grandpa frowned, hitched up his jeans, and walked over to him. It took a little grunting and groaning, but he took a seat on the floor by Kyle. “Tell me about it.”
The old man was the only person who understood, so he poured out the whole thing, not sparing himself anything. “So I broke it off with her,” he finished, “because I was too goddamned afraid to let go of the fake me. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I do it?”
Grandpa patted his shoulder with a heavy hand. “Listen here. Being concerned about what people think of you isn’t always a weakness, boy. You’ve always been a sensitive person, but that’s a strength. Most teen guys would do just about anything to nail a girl—including taking advantage and letting her believe in a lie. You aren’t like that.”
“And I say it is a weakness,” Kyle snapped. “Being a gentleman is different than being a coward.”
“It’s gonna happen. At some point, you’ll unknot everything that ails you. When the right girl comes along, she’ll understand why you did what you did. Okay? Maybe it wasn’t to be with the ballerina. Maybe she wasn’t the one.”
“That’s the thing,” he muttered. “I think she might’ve been, but I was too scared she’d hate me for lying to her. That she wanted me because she thought I was something I’m not. If I told her the truth, she was going to turn me loose…and she would’ve been hurt more because of it.”
“Then maybe you should apologize, see where that gets you? Tell her you lost your head a little bit after the show at the ice cream place?” Grandpa scratched the side of his head. “But what do I know? I’m a seventy-one-year-old widower with three lady friends. Maybe I’m not the best person to ask for advice.”