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As soon as we get inside and Brawler locks the door behind us, he says, “What happened?” His voice is dark. Just another guy pulling an alpha male. His fists clench and unclench at his sides.
“Nothing.”
I try to escape to my room, but he gets in front of me. “Don’t do that. What happened?”
For a moment, a glimmer of hope rises inside of me. Maybe I can trust Brawler. Truly. Look at him. He’s concerned. He’s asking. He’s fucking asking because he really wants to know.
But that’s ridiculous. I shake my head and try to move around him, but he grabs my arm. “Don’t do that.” He sucks in a breath. “Fuck. You know I’m the most real thing in your life right now. Talk to me.”
My jaw locks. I turn toward him. His eyes are practically begging me, and it’s too much to try to keep inside anymore. “Johnny kissed me.”
Brawler blinks, unable to keep the surprise from his face. Then, he cocks his head. “Hasn’t he kissed you already?”
Internally, I scream in frustration. Of course everyone just assumes we’re fucking because I’m his girl, right? Because that’s what I would do. “Forget it.”
“No,” Brawler says. “Make me understand.”
I yank my hand out of his grip. My skin crawls with agitation. “He. Kissed. Me. He did it in front of that asshole waiter so he could show him he controls me. So he could prove I’m his, that he fucking owns me. He forced his tongue down my throat to show someone he mattered and the other guy didn’t, and neither of them asked what I wanted.” I shake my head. “One of them wanted to claim me as his prize for winning a fight, the other thinks I’m already his.”
Brawler’s eyes are like roaring thunder. “No one owns you if you don’t want to be owned,” he says.
“It’s too late. You said that already. You said that from the very beginning.”
“I was wrong,” Brawler bites out. “Look at you. Christ. You’re…unbelievable. Beautiful. Strong.” He says it in awe, like he’s never seen anything like me. I think back on the message he left me on my bathroom mirror. He’s been trying to tell me these things all along.
He goes to turn away, but I catch his arm, making him stop. “Don’t. Please. I want to hear it.”
“You’re a fighter, Kyla,” he says eventually, emotion flickering in his sapphire eyes. “You’re strong. I can already see that no matter how much he pushes, he won’t have you. Not all of you. I don’t get why you want to stay. I don’t need to. We’ve all done shit because we felt we had to. I get it. That doesn’t mean you’re weak. That means you’re fucking unbelievably strong.”
The tension between us crackles with electricity. I want to jump him. I want to tell him to kiss me, not to wash away the memories of Johnny’s kiss, but because Iwantto kiss Brawler.
Damn being “Kyla” right now. Damn the plan. I want what I want. I need him.
19
The moment we both give in is like a hiccup in time and space, where he’s just waiting for me to say the words.
They’re threatening to spill out, but I don’t know what it’ll do to me. What it’ll do to us going forward. I can’t tell Brawler why I’m here. I can’t. If I care about him as much as I think I do, it’ll only put him in danger.
“It’s okay,” he says, understanding the conflict I’m having.
I drop my head to his chest and breathe in deep. The collar of the dress cuts into me. The sequins make my neck burn with agitation. “Can you help me take this dress off?”
For a moment, he stops breathing. “I see. You want to torture us both.”
“I just don’t want to be in Johnny’s dress anymore. Not when you’re here.”
He lifts my chin. “It’s not Johnny’s dress. Trust me. You own that. You owned the whole warehouse tonight. It’s not what you want to hear, but I’m not surprised he beat the piss out of that waiter. I wanted to lay everyone out who looked at you tonight.”
“No one looked at me.”
“You’re blind.” His hands move around me, trailing up my spine. “But I’ll take it off if you want. If it means something different to you.”
His fingers fondle the zipper. I bend my head so he can get a better purchase. The sound of the zipper lowering fills the room. It’s like when a video buffers. Time stills, just waiting for what we’ll do next.
“I want to be me,” I say. He’ll never know this, but I want to beme, not Kyla. Not the name I made up to come here, but I want to be the girl all grown up in the life she was supposed to have. Someone who’s in charge of her own destiny. Someone who would’ve seen Brawler in a gym and would’ve been interested right away. Someone who would’ve had the choice to go up to him.
I pull at the cropped sleeves of my dress until I can maneuver my arms out without agitating the scrape on my shoulder. Then, I drop the front, wiggling out of it until it’s around my ankles. Brawler’s gaze never leaves my eyes. Even though I’m standing here in my bra and panties, he never peeks. I want him to, but I can’t come up with the words. Saying the words will mean I’m giving in to the temptation of leaving all this behind. Don’t get me wrong, I want Big Daddy K to pay. But not getting my revenge? That would have been much easier. So much easier.