I have to know.
“Are you… sleeping with me?” I choke on the words, my voice cracking like a little boy’s.
Instantly, a cocky smile spreads across his face.
Shit.
“T-That came out wrong.”
“I think it came out perfectly.” He scans my body in such a shameless way that tingles creep up my spine. He’s driving me completely insane. One second I’m certain he’s just as attracted to me as I am to him, and the next, I feel knee-deep into the friend zone.
I lock myself into the bathroom, trading my dress for leggings and a T-shirt—one that doesn’t give Will a first-class view of my nipples—and walk out.
I find Will in the exact same position I left him.
Except that now… he’s shirtless.
On my bed.
“What? Not what you had in mind?” He cocks an eyebrow.
Lord, help me.
“Or did I read that wrong?” he teases, rising off my bed and stalking toward me.
“You know damn well you read it wrong.” I swallow hard. “I just meant that you could… grab some of Kendrick’s clothes to be more comfortable or something. He has a bunch in his room.” I trip over my words.
As soon as Kendrick’s name is uttered, the smirk is slapped off Will’s lips. He tumbles backward, eyes boring into mine like I just smacked him across the face with a wake-up call.
And I’m right there with him.
Kendrick.
My brother.
This is Will.
His best friend.
“I’m not spending the night. I… I think I should go, actually. I have this thing tomorrow.” He rubs at the back of his neck, picking his T-shirt off my bed and dressing himself.
“Oh, okay, I-I’ll see you later.”
Will forces a smile before booking it down the stairs. The front door slams in the distance, and I plop down onto my bed.
I’m not going to lie, I’m mad that he left.
But mostly, I’m eager to find out what would’ve happened…
If he hadn’t.
Kassidy
Two months earlier
Texting Morgan as Blake drives, I roll down my window to catch a breeze of fresh air. Today is Friday and one of the hottest, most humid days we’ve had in ages. Blake and I haven’t said a word to each other since I climbed inside his car. Not that I’m surprised. It’s been like this for weeks now. Weirdest part is, we’re not mad at each other.
We just don’t have much to say.
“How was your day?” I ask, peeling my thighs off Blake’s sticky leather seats. That’s how hot it is outside.
“Okay,” Blake says, neglecting to return the question. Is the spark between us gone? Was it ever there to begin with? I’m not entirely sure. I’ve never had a boyfriend before. All I know is everything feels predictable now.
That’s as far as our conversation goes. A few miles of silence later, he hits the brakes, dropping me off two blocks away from my house in case Kendrick’s home.
“Thanks for the ride.” I climb out of the car.
“Sure” is all he says before speeding away. No I love you or I’ll call you later. He’s not what one would call an expressive boyfriend. Rarely talks about his feelings.
I make my way to my house, flinching under the scorching sun. I only need one look at the cars lined up in the lot to know something’s wrong. My dad’s home. But his Mercedes is still running, its trunk wide open and brimming with stuff. He just came back from a weeklong business trip. He’s probably unpacking—yeah, that must be it.
Approaching the door, I pluck my keys out of my pocket but quickly realize I’m not going to need them when my brother swings the door open and scampers out of the house. He’s mad. No, he’s furious.
But why?
“Don’t,” he spits.
“What’s going on?” I ask, the fear settling in my stomach.
“Kass, trust me. Do yourself a favor and don’t go in there,” he advises, shuddering with rage, and walks around me to get to his car. I watch as he reverses out of the driveway recklessly.
Deciding not to heed his warning, I push the door open to find him standing in the kitchen.
My dad.
Filling up a suitcase he threw on the table. Countless black garbage bags cover the kitchen tiles.
“Dad? What’s going on?”
Sobs cut through the air.
I’d recognize her cries amongst millions.
They’re my mom’s.
“Where’s Mom?” I glance around the room nervously.
Exasperated, my dad points to the bathroom.
“Mom!” I run to the closed door, knocking repeatedly. “Mom, are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“Kass, baby, please…” Sniffle. “Please just go…” Sniffle. “Go to Morgan’s for the night.”
“What? Why? Let me in!” I wrestle with the locked knob.
“Kassidy, do as I say. I’ll come and get you, I promise. I love you, baby, but you have to go, okay?” She can barely finish her sentence from crying too hard.
I blink back my own tears.
Nothing, nothing, is worse than seeing or hearing your mother suffer.
“Mom, stop. You’re scaring me.” I pound against the door
I hear the water running. She’s shutting me up. She can’t deal with me right now. Confused, I run back to the kitchen where my dad is standing in his thousand-dollar suit, prowling around the room and gathering all of his belongings.
“Are you going somewhere?”
“Kassidy, I really can’t do this right now. I’m sorry.” He zips up the suitcase, picks it up along with the last trash bags on the floor, and passes me by without so much as a look.
“What? Dad, please. Why are you leaving?” Panic consumes me. I follow closely behind him, helpless as he dumps the last of the trash bags into his trunk and slams it shut. He reaches for his car door. Desperate, I run to him, grasping at his suit and yanking him back.
“Dad! Please,” I cry out.
He sighs, finally acknowledging my existence and staring me dead in the eyes to say, “Your mom and I are getting a divorce, Kassidy.”
I blink back tears.
“What? No. You… You can’t leave.” I feel so helpless, desperately looking for the right thing to say—if it even exists. “You guys are strong. You’ll figure it out. Don’t do this.” Just like that, I revert back into the five-year-old girl begging her father not to leave her at school.
“I have to. Your mom doesn’t want me here. Plus, I have a job offer in another town.”
I’m not going to pretend I didn’t see it coming, because the truth is, my parents haven’t been fine for a while, always arguing and yelling when they think we can’t hear them. Blame it on the stupid business trips my dad always takes. Still, it’s not like my dad to give up. He worked so hard to get this job as a college dean. Why give it up now?
“What happened? What could be so bad that you have to move out of the house and quit your job?” I shout. I need them to give me something. He turns his back on me, sliding inside his car. The opened window allows for one last false promise.