Free Kyle's Return by L.P. Dover Page A

asks you what’s going on, you’ll tell
him? What about Jameson and all your friends back home? You’ll see
them all next weekend.”
    Wrapping my arms around his neck, I held him tight.
“That might be kind of hard since I don’t know what’s going on. We
haven’t exactly talked about it.”
    Holding me around the waist, he pulled me in close.
“You’re right. But I think it’s kind of obvious what I want.”
    “And what is that?” I asked, lifting up on my toes to
meet him face to face.
    He looked into my eyes and brushed his thumb across
my lips. “You. And I don’t want you ashamed of the way you feel
about me.”
    I kissed his thumb and leaned my head in his hand.
“I’m not ashamed, Kyle. I’m just worried my friends will think I’m
a traitor.” He nodded, taking a deep breath and releasing it. “But
that’s where you’re going to remedy that. If you can get their
forgiveness, then it won’t matter anymore.”
    “And what if I can’t? What then?” he countered.
    Before answering, I closed my lips over his and spoke
against them. “That’s not going to happen. I have faith in you. Now
all you have to do is have faith in yourself.”
    Nodding once, he kissed me again and took my hand. We
strolled down the sidewalk toward the parking garage where his bike
was parked. “It’s getting late. Are you ready to go home?” He
looked down at me and I shook my head, biting my lip.
    “I am ready to go, but it’s not to my house.”
    His hand tensed and he stopped mid-step. “If we do
this, it’s only going to make me want you more.”
    “And there’s nothing wrong with that. Let’s go.”
     

     
    My heart pounded faster than the speed he took to get
home. He spoke the truth when he said he lived in the next
neighborhood over. I was nervous and scared to death, but
completely sure that I wanted to spend the night with him. Kyle
Andrews wasn’t your typical guy next door, he was the one your
mother would warn you about. In this case, it would be the whole
world warning me.
    “You weren’t kidding about being neighbors, were
you?” I said as I got off his bike.
    Chuckling, he took off his helmet. “What, did you not
believe me?”
    “No, I believed you. I just didn’t think you’d be
this close.” I looked up at his house and sighed. “And your house
is a lot larger than mine.”
    He helped me with the strap on my helmet and slid it
off my head. “Come on. I’ll show you around.” He pressed a code to
get into his garage and there sat his damaged truck and an old
convertible Ford Mustang that looked brand new.
    “I can see why you chose not to drive that to the
gym,” I said.
    “Exactly. I don’t care what happens to my truck or
bike, but I do care about that one. Pax helped me rebuild it
years ago.”
    I slid my fingers over the pristine white top and
peeked inside. “It’s beautiful. You’ve taken good care of it.”
    “Thanks,” he said, setting our helmets down on one of
his many shelves. He had about five of them, all covered in various
awards and trophies.
    “That’s a lot of trophies you have up there.”
    He shrugged, not even acknowledging them. “Yeah, but
they don’t mean shit to me. That’s why they stay out here.” Turning
on his heel, he started for the door but stopped when I didn’t
follow. He sighed and faced me.
    “Why do you say that?”
    Clenching his jaw, he glanced over at the wall, his
gaze tormented. “Because what you see there isn’t real. I didn’t earn those trophies. The ones I did earn are inside.”
    He turned and waited on me to join him at the door. I
squeezed his arm in passing and he shut the door behind us. With
his hand on the small of my back, he led me into his living room
where a glass case stood, emanating a soft glow into the darkened
room. Inside were three wrestling trophies, all from high
school.
    He stood in front of the case and smiled. “These are
the ones I earned. I fought damn hard for each one of them.”
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