Switched: Flirt New Adult Romance (24 page)

“Oh my gosh, look at his face. It’s totally nipple piercings!” Reagan crawls over to Wesley, whose arms are now folded tight around his chest. “I want to see.”

I may burst into flames. And not from embarrassment. How obvious can her flirting be? So much for us all being friends and normal. Nope, that’s not good enough for Reagan. She has to have the boys pining after her and showing her their nipples.

I’m so heated, I snap the beer from the table and swap it with my Powerade. Talon’s the only one who notices, and he starts rubbing my knee as if that will help. As if he knows how much this is pissing me off. But I’m beyond the point of figuring out what the hell is wrong with my friends.

“They’re not in right now.” Wesley laughs, but it’s not his normal big bark. “I only wear them on open mic nights.” Wesley peels Reagan’s hands from the shirt she’s trying to lift in order to find evidence of those piercings. But she settles for clinging to his hand instead.

There they are, holding hands right in front of us.

“Wesley, it’s your turn,” I snarl. Talon rubs my knee again, and I start counting breaths. Gah, what is wrong with me? There’s no reason to freak out.

I’m
not
freaking out. I’m not! I’m not! I’m not!

“Uh, okay.” He looks at his fingers laced with Reagan’s and takes a gulp. I’m not freaking out about that. No. “I never …”
Please say something I’ve done so I can get some alcohol in me!
“Pissed myself in a haunted house.”

“Damn it.” Talon swigs his drink, and I’m tempted to lie just to get a taste of beer.

Wesley shrugs out of Reagan’s hold, and the tight heat in my neck eases. “Payback’s a bitch, brother.”

“I was five.”

Reagan lets out this hollow laugh, like she’s totally faking her normally cheery persona. Her arm slides back into Wesley’s. “Is that why we never go to haunted houses? Is Talon afraid of the clown room?” She winks, but there’s an edge to her voice that sounds much meaner than the normal bashing we do. Talon’s eyes narrow, zooming in on the closeness between her and Wesley, and he swaps his sports drink for something stronger too.

“Your turn again, Ray,” he grunts.

She shakes her head. “Nope. Rules say if you’re the only one to drink then you have to go.”

“Fine.”

The air in the room has shifted. I thought it was just me, but it’s not. There are flames shooting between Reagan and Talon, and the beginnings of an anxiety attack threaten to take over my body. I look over at Wesley, wishing he was the one sitting next to me. To rub my tense shoulders and help me breathe while these two subtly argue.

Talon leans forward, and I jump when his arm slaps around my shoulder. The open beer in his hand dangles in front of my face, and the smell makes my stomach churn.

Maybe I can’t deal with alcohol tonight.

Talon clears his throat, his mouth awfully close to my ear. “I never stood someone up.”

Inhale for three seconds, exhale for five
.

Before Reagan drinks, she grabs a beer and opens it, then takes a long draft. Almost as if she’s trying to down the whole thing. When she stops, she slowly wipes her lips with her finger, cocking an eyebrow at Talon.

“I never slept with two people at once,” Reagan says without missing a beat. I actually feel the embarrassment and rage course through Talon’s body, and I want to leap away from it, run straight out the front door, and curl in on myself till all the tension has left. But Talon’s grip is suddenly so strong it’s starting to get a little painful. And even though I want to get out of here, I can hardly move without his fingers tightening more.

Inhale through the nose, exhale out the mouth
.

Talon doesn’t drink, but he takes his turn anyway. “I never woke up next to a stranger.”

Reagan stands up, and I slam my eyes shut and count my breaths. Wesley says something. I think he asks them to cool off, but his voice is drowned out by Reagan’s.

“I never had sex!”

Holy shit, shit, shit. I can’t even breathe anymore. Tiny bits of answers I had about the breakup start trickling into my brain. No sex … then what happened that night? Actually, I don’t even care anymore. I don’t want to hash it out or wonder if the lack of sex is why they broke up. I want them to stop fighting in front of me and Wesley like we’re not even here.

My whole body tenses like Talon’s does, his grip not loosening at all. Wesley has apparently lost all ability to say anything, because I don’t hear him move or try to stop the argument. All I hear is Talon take a drink, a long one, and slam his beer on the coffee table.

“I never kissed my ex’s best friend,” he spits. And that’s what does it. What makes my eyes pop open. They go straight to Wesley, who’s looking like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. Reagan tips her beer back, chugging every last drop.

I’m blinking like mad to stop all my tears from coming out. I shove Talon off me so hard, he smacks his elbow on the entertainment system. I don’t give a shit either. I want to get out of this room. Away from all of them.

Like my shoes have rockets installed on them, I bolt out of the apartment and slam the door behind me. I need to breathe. I need to calm down before I drive anywhere, and the crisp February air pinches my throat as I suck it in. It feels good to be alone. To take a beat. I breathe out and grab my neck, forcing my eyes to focus on the stars above me. I stare at them and breathe until I slowly come down from my anxiety attack.

But as the anxiety ebbs, anger and hurt replace it. Anger
because
I’m hurt. Wesley and Reagan kissed? Why didn’t either of them tell me? Is that why Wesley’s been avoiding me? Why does it hurt so much? Why does that hurt more than anything she ever did with Talon? It’s like she’s suddenly stealing something of mine, something I never had and was too stupid to realize I wanted till it was too late. Again, I fell for someone who wants my best friend. Who has my best
friend.

And judging by the way things went down in there, it looks like she’s totally using him. That makes it hurt even more. That he’s in love with someone who’s not loving him back.

“Kayla?”

I let go of my neck and blow out the last of my counted breaths. I glance over my shoulder to a pair of eyes I used to beg to look my way. To someone I wanted for the past eight years. To someone I haven’t thought about once since I stepped outside.

Talon inches forward, sliding his hands in his front pockets.

“I’m sorry.”

(Even though you never thought you’d want it.)

I turn around to face him, crossing my arms. “For what exactly? For arguing in there, or for lying to me about being over her?”

His eyes dart to the ground. “Both.”

I wish I could say that’s what hurts the most. The fact that they split and he still wants her. But it isn’t. Actually, it doesn’t sting at all. I give him a tiny smile and tell him something I’ve been holding back from him for forever.

“I was the one who filled your locker.”

He looks at me, lips slightly parting. “What?”

“In high school. All the anonymous spirit goodies were from me.”

He doesn’t say anything, not that I expect him to. So I kick the gravel at my feet and tug down my sleeves to play with the fabric of my baby blue sweater, as if that’ll give me the courage to tell him out loud everything I’ve written in my journal.

“You have no idea how much I thought about you. How much I wished that football that smacked Reagan in the back of the head had hit me instead. How even though she was my best friend, I watched you and wanted more with you. I liked you, Talon. I liked the way you threw a football, the way you treated your family, the way you treated
me
. I even liked you while you dated Reagan because you were always thinking of her and what she needed. I wanted that to be me. I wanted you to ask me out, hold my hand, be
my
boyfriend. And when you broke up and asked me out, I thought I’d finally gotten what I wanted. But …”

I take a breath, and it’s a long enough pause for Talon to close the distance between us. We’re not touching, but I can whisper the rest of my sentence and he’ll hear it, even if it comes out at his feet.

“I don’t want it this way.”

His hands twitch in his pockets, and I know he’s debating whether to hug me or something, but I don’t want him to. I’m glad he doesn’t give in to the impulse.

“I’m sorry. Kayla, I wish I could tell you … I want to tell you …” He lets the thought drop, and my forehead crinkles as I look at him. His blue eyes connect with mine, and I have no
idea what he wants to tell me. I don’t think I’ll find out either. At least not tonight.

He shifts his weight, taking a hand out of his pocket to scratch his elbow. “I think you’re beautiful. I think you’re fun and smart and an amazing friend. I think you are a great girl, Kayla.” He puts his hand back in his pocket. “You’re just … not mine.”

I wait for it to hurt. And it does a little, but it’s not heartbreaking. It’s more like a small crack that tears down that little girl who discovered her crush will never be anything more than that. I actually feel a large wave roll over me, making my shoulders relax and my mind clear.

Relief
.

That’s when it smacks me in the face. I’m in love, but not with Talon. Never was with Talon. If I had been, I’d have felt the storming rage I felt inside when Reagan placed her hand in Wesley’s. When I found out they kissed. How much that hurt. How much that crushed my heart, squishing it into oblivion, while Talon’s confession only left me with a tiny scratch.

Talon was a fantasy. I thought it was the best kind of fantasy. But it fails in comparison with the real thing.

Wesley.

Wesley is real. What I feel for him is stronger than anything I’ve ever felt with Talon. I can be myself. I can be an idiot and not feel like one. I can talk to him about anything, and I know he won’t judge me for it. He knows how to calm me down. How to piss me off and make me laugh in the same heartbeat.

No more rationalizing. No excuses. This is real.

I. Want. Wesley.

And of course, I’m too late. I had the chance to tell Reagan and I didn’t. I screwed it all up.

I give Talon a faint smile, and even though it’s a little awkward, I want him to know it’s okay. That I don’t blame him for anything that’s happened. I pull his arms free from his pockets and wrap up in him. And by the way the air lightens around us, I know it’s a completely platonic hug. That at least we’ve fixed things between the two of us.

He leans his cheek against the top of my head. “I can’t tell you what I want to,” he says, and I shrug because it’s okay. I’m not sure if anything he has to tell me will make things between me and Wesley better. “But I will say that I know you are someone’s everything. You’re too special not to be.”

I hear footsteps behind Talon before I can respond. We both whip around to see Wesley, whose eyes are jumping between the two of us and whose cheeks are turning red. His shirt looks rumpled and twisted, and just the sight of that makes my gut fill with rocks. Looks like he and Reagan took advantage of being alone, even though it’s oh so obvious she’s not over Talon either.

“Um … everything okay?” he says hesitantly.

Talon’s eyes go back to mine, and he says, “I don’t know. Is it okay?”

I nod, and shrug from his hold. The corner of Wesley’s mouth twitches, and he says, “You ready to come back inside, then? Reagan promised no more ‘I Never.’ ”

Talon nods, taking a step away from me. But I’m not ready. I don’t think I will be anytime soon either.

“Actually, I’m going to head home,” I say.

“You sure?” Talon asks, pausing in midstep. Wesley opens his mouth, but no sound comes out.

“Yeah. I’m fine. But I have a paper to work on and I’m stressed and, you know, want to have some time alone. Can one of you give Ray a ride home?”

“Sure.” Talon gives me a shy smile, then flicks his eyes to Wesley. “I better go apologize. Sorry for stirring up shit, man.”

Wesley shrugs, his rumpled shirt inching up enough for me to see the top of his jeans. He’s wearing that belt he undid at my house at Christmas. I have to force myself to move from the spot.

“Hey Kayla, hang on a minute.”

I hear one set of footsteps get closer, while another set starts up the metal stairs into the apartment. I wait for Wesley to turn me around or step in front of me, but he doesn’t. He stands behind me, who knows how close, but close enough that I feel electricity in the air.

It’s silent too. He stopped me from going, so I know he has something to say, but he’s not saying it. And I’m losing patience.

“Did you need something?” I’m not going to look at him. My eyes will totally give me away, so he can have the back of my head.

“I didn’t kiss Reagan.”

Never mind. I have to see if he’s joking, so I flick my eyes over my shoulder. His face is dead set on mine. No dimple, no smirk … just a panicked look like he’s begging me to hear him out.

“Um … okay,” I squeak. Then I turn back around and take a step toward my car.

His fingers snatch at my sleeve, and that electric charge goes up my arm and gives me instant chills. He must think I’m shaking him off because he snaps his hand back.

“I promise, Kayla. I don’t know why she took that drink. I don’t know what she told Talon or what Talon assumed, but I didn’t kiss her. I haven’t even really seen her since … that night.”

I take another breath, slap on the best smile I can, which honestly isn’t much, and turn to face him.

“It’s fine, Wesley. You don’t have to explain to me.”

“Oh,” he says, eyebrows going up near his front cowlick. “You … seemed upset, and I didn’t want you thinking I’d lied or anything.”

I’m a little pissed, because he’s caring about me when I know he wants my best friend. When he was up there alone with her doing who knows what to get that shirt rumpled.

My eyes start to water again, so I blink, blink, blink. I have to make this short and sweet so I can get out of here and cry into my pillow.

“I’m not upset about that.” Add that to all the lies I’ve handed out over the past few months. “You know I hate arguing, and it was getting pretty bad in there. Besides, what does it matter? Kissing Reagan is what you want, right? That’s what we’ve been aiming at all this time. So even if you did kiss her, you shouldn’t have to explain that to me.”