Frigid

His long fingers slipped over the chords with a skilled ease I was envious of. The way he played was captivating, the lifting tune enthralling. As he played, a lock of brown hair fell over his forehead and those thick, impossibly long lashes fa

When he stopped, he lifted his chin and his eyes met mine. My throat felt too thick to speak, but I couldn’t look away. So much stretched out before us in the silence—words better left unsaid and truths that should’ve never been spoken.

Kyler put the guitar aside and reached over, picking up the bottle he had placed beside him. Only then did he look away, as he took a drink. Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly. I wasn’t sleepy. Actually, the exact opposite, but I wished I were. I sipped the beer, hoping it would knock me out. And that was the strangest damn thing. As much as I wanted to just go to sleep to avoid saying or doing something stupid, I didn’t want to miss any time with him.

And then he spoke. “I shouldn’t have given in.”

Kyler

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I didn’t regret it, though, because it needed to be said. I shouldn’t have done what I did in the sunroom, treating her no better than some random chick getting a quickie against the wall.

Syd was better than that and she deserved more. And even though quick hookups were all I’d ever been capable of, I would’ve given her more if she had wanted that.

I would’ve given her everything if she had asked.

It would probably never be enough, and I knew I couldn’t undo everything I had done in my past. I couldn’t go back and change the fact that I’d been with all those girls, that Syd had seen me take home one girl after another, but damn, if she had asked, I would’ve told her that my feelings for her ran deep.

But I couldn’t change any of that and now Syd looked at me in the same way every single one of those girls in my classes and the ones I met at the bars did. She expected what they expected—a night of sex and nothing else. And I felt like a total shitbag for that.

Syd coughed on her beer and blinked rapidly. “Excuse me?”

I ran a hand through my hair. “Earlier in the sunroom—I shouldn’t have given in to what you were asking for.”

Her hands balled into tiny fists, and I had enough experience to be thankful she wasn’t still holding onto the beer bottle, because there was a good chance she would’ve thrown it at my head. “I was trying to avoid talking about this, since you made yourself painfully clear earlier.”

“We need to talk about this,” I said. “We need to clear the air between us. You—”

“I don’t want to, Kyler.” She stood swiftly. “I don’t see the point. I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough over the last couple of days to last a lifetime.”

I shook my head. “I’m not trying to embarrass you. That’s the last thing I want.”

“Then we don’t need to talk about it. You don’t want me. I get it.” She stared at me a moment, her lower lip trembling in a way that was a sucker punch straight to my chest, and then she turned to the curtained window. “There’s nothing else to say.”

“There’s a hell of a lot to say, Syd.” My voice hardened, and I swore to God, if she got closer to that window after what’d happened earlier, I was going to tackle her. “Why didn’t you say something before? Or did you just wake up a few days ago and decide you wanted that from me?”

She let out a strangled laugh. “Yeah, that’s how it works. I just woke up one morning and was like, ‘gee, I want to screw Kyler.’ Seriously, you have no clue.”

“Then tell me.” I sprang to my feet and crossed the room. She backed away, putting the recliner between us. “I need to know why you wanted me to do that. Why you thought that would be okay.”

She gripped the back of the recliner. Her throat worked. “You make it sound like it would be such a chore for you.”

My eyes narrowed. What in the hell? “That’s not what I said, or am saying.”

“Okay. You want to talk about this. Why are you so against it?” The words seemed to burst from her like a dam overflowing. “I’ve been your best friend since I can remember. I watched you start paying attention to girls and I watched you start dating them and I don’t think you’ve ever turned down an offer from any girl before.”

I jerked back. “I’m not a fucking prostitute, Syd.”

Her eyes widened. “But you will fuck anything that walks and smiles at you, but not me!”

“Yes! That’s what I’m saying.” I took a step forward. Her eyes were as dark as tumultuous waves in the soft glow of the candlelight. “I don’t want to fuck you, Syd. That’s not what you and I are about.”

She took a shaky breath. “You wanted me. I could feel that you did.”

I looked away, grinding my teeth together so hard I was surprised my molars didn’t break. “You don’t get it.”

Wrapping her arms around herself, she backed away from the recliner and started toward the door leading to the rest of the house. Oh hell to the no, where did she think she was going? We were so not done with this conversation.

“I do get it,” she continued, her eyes taking on a sheen that made my entire body lock up. “I’m not good enough—or whatever enough—for you. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been in love with you—” Blood drained from her face. “Oh, my God…”

The fucking world stopped. People say that shit happens when you hear something completely unexpected and shocking, and I thought it was just people being melodramatic, but hell if it wasn’t true. The fucking world really did stop for me right then.

Syd was in love with me? She’d been in love with me?

“Oh my God,” she whispered again.

I was in front of her so fast I didn’t remember moving. Clasping her cheeks, I tipped her head back so she had to look me in the eyes. “What did you just say?”

She looked like she was about to be sick. “Nothing—I said nothing.”

“Bullshit.” My eyes were wide. “You’re in love with me?”

“Of course I am.” She laughed, but it sounded like it was forced. “We’ve been best friends since forever and I would be in—”

“That’s not what you meant.” My voice dropped low and my heart thundered in my chest. That couldn’t be what she meant. “Come on, Syd. That’s not it.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t—”

“You. Don’t. Get. It.” I wanted to shake her. She wasn’t good enough? Was she insane? I was begi

Her eyes flared wide again. As close as I was, I saw the tiny tears well up and spill down her cheek. Getting punched in the nuts would’ve felt better than seeing her cry and knowing I was the reason.

And it struck me then that this wasn’t the first time I’d made her cry. There were other times. Little dots on the map of us that didn’t seem like big deals then, but looking back now, they’d meant everything to her. Each memory felt like getting cut with a rusty butter knife.

I was a bigger asshole than I could’ve ever imagined.

In the ninth grade, when I’d ditched movie night with Syd for the junior varsity cheerleader who’d had an extremely talented mouth. Syd’s eyes had been red and swollen the next day in class and she’d told me it was allergies, except…Syd didn’t have allergies. Then during the summer of our sophomore year, I’d constantly broken plans with her to spend time with girls. Our senior year, I promised her a dance at the prom, but I’d left early. Had a hotel room with a girl whose last name I couldn’t even remember. She would always smile and say it was okay, but later…later she’d have something in her eyes—or have just read a sad book, or watched a depressing movie. The same thing in college, even when she was with someone. Even recently—I remembered the look on her face when she’d seen Mindy coming out of the bathroom the morning we’d left for Snowshoe. I’d been wrong and I’d been right. It wasn’t disgust, but it had been crushing disappointment. All those times I’d broken her heart, and she was still here.