Just Between Us Page 10

  “It’s just weird. I mean last time we were drunk.”

  “You want to get drunk?” he teased.

  “No.” He ran his fingers over me again, so gently and yet so purposefully that I craved him. We drove like this at high speed for a while. I moaned; he drove. I became braver and reached over to move my hands over his tented jeans, and he pushed himself into my hands as I rubbed and squeezed. Eventually he took a turning into another country lane that seemed to lead to a wooded area. I had driven past here before, but never turned off. He parked the car further up the road and then jumped out. I was still getting out as he made his way round to get me. He took my hand and led me into the long grass that flanked both sides of the deserted road. He pulled me further and further, deeper and deeper into the grass until we couldn’t see the road or the car anymore. Then he placed his hands on my hips and took me in a kiss that was again deep, urgent, and purposeful. I gave in to him, my body was tingling for him, and the area that he had excited desperately wanted him again.

  We dropped into the grass, his hands roaming my body and mine his. He took his shirt off and then helped ease mine over my head. We kissed again, and I started to unbutton his jeans, reaching in to take him in my hands. We kissed more urgently the more I touched him, and his fingers found the top of my leggings, making their way inside. We were frantically clawing at each other, the foreplay clumsy and urgent as our clothes found their way onto the grass. Before I knew it, he was inside me again, thrusting hard. We let ourselves go, shouting and grabbing at each other like we couldn’t get enough. I gave into him again, shouting his name as I came hard. Kyle continued to pound into me until he found his release.

  He pulled me onto him, in the grass, naked. “Soph?” he asked, breathlessly.

  “Yes.” I exhaled, exhausted.

  “Same time tomorrow?”

  The following couple of weeks allowed stolen moments, he began to consume my every thought, my body craving his touch. He would creep into my room some nights after being out with his friends or catch me unawares in the kitchen, pushing me up against the counter and making me turn to jelly at his very touch. We went to our secluded spot a few more times and even did it one night in the party room on the third floor whilst our parents were eating dinner downstairs. It was dangerous and exciting, he couldn’t get enough of me, and that made me feel special. I was aware that this couldn’t go on forever and that no one could find out, but for now we were living for the moment, and I dared to think that perhaps we weren’t the enemies that I always thought we would be.

  Now

  “You are incapable of packing light,” Kyle moaned as he lifted my suitcase into the small boot of his car. It was late Friday afternoon, and we were setting off to Brighton for two nights.

  “I need to be prepared for any eventuality.”

  “How many eventualities can we have in two nights?”

  “Plenty.” I grinned. He closed the boot and slapped my bum.

  “Let’s roll,” he said, placing his aviators on, and sliding into his car. It was hard not to be intimidated in Kyle’s company; he was so breathtaking no matter what he wore. Today there was a slight chill in the summer air and so he wore jeans, Vans, and a hoody. His hair was spiked slightly but it was always a little too long to be tamed. He squeezed my thigh lightly, a gesture that showed familiarity and the love of two old friends rather than the passion we had once shared. I looked all right I supposed but didn’t fit the description of a Kyle Hanson conquest. Today I wore an old pair of jeans that I had had a few years and couldn’t bring myself to part with, I certainly wasn’t back to my fighting weight, and so they hung off me a bit. I wore a loose fitting white shirt and my Converse. My hair was too hard to tame and keep straight all of the time, so I wore it loose and tangled.

  We set off, and I felt excited to be having a weekend of fun somewhere new and also to be enjoying my life, which for the last week I had finally started to do, thanks to Kyle. We were staying at the Hilton on Brighton Promenade and Kyle had booked us a room each.

  “So,” Kyle said as we neared the motorway, “eye spy or truth and dare?”

  “What?” I crinkled my nose and giggled. “Eye spy.”

  “Spoil sport.” Kyle winked at me over his sunglasses.

  A couple of hours and some pretty horrendous traffic later we arrived in Brighton. I had never visited Brighton before and was quite surprised by its typically British feel. The seaside seemed unspoilt and had a quaint aura, unlike the neon and nightclubs that were prevalent in Blackpool, the seaside town that neighboured our hometown.

  “It’s cute,” I said as we drove along the promenade.

  “Cute?” Kyle nodded. “Suppose so.”

  We found our hotel and checked in. “Hanson, two rooms,” Kyle said politely, and it hit me how old and mature we were now. We were no longer the silly teenagers who would probably have loved to come to a hotel like this together and giggle as we checked in.

  We found our rooms. “Right, quick change, and then we’ll go and get dinner,” Kyle said.

  “Are we dressing up?” I asked.

  “Just casual,” he said, “we’ll go out properly tomorrow night.”

  “Okay.” I nodded and retreated to my room.

  I took my shirt and baggy jeans off, putting on some new skinny jeans and a nice casual patterned vest top. I replaced my Converse with some sandals with a slight heel. Then I added more make up and ran some serum through my tangled hair. I was ready in ten minutes and unpacked a little so that I wouldn’t have to rifle through my bag later for my pyjamas. Just then, there was a knock at the door, I answered to find Kyle looking anything but casual. He had replaced his earlier jeans for a darker pair, brown leather shoes, and a fitted brown and blue checked shirt. I could see the shape of his toned torso underneath the shirt, and I almost gasped.

  Kyle grinned as my eyes met his, but I looked away quickly, leaving to grab my bag. “You look good, too,” he said, following me into the room, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

  “Thanks,” I said turning to where he stood. “You don’t look casual.”

  “Well I knew you’d look this good, so I had to try my best.” He shrugged. A smile tugged at the side of my mouth, and I rolled my eyes.

  “Still a flirt.” I shook my head.

  “Still pretending that you hate it, I see.” He placed his hand on the small of my back and led me out of the room. “Now let’s eat.”

  We stepped out onto the promenade, there was a slight chill in the air, but we walked briskly to ward it off and reach the nearest bar. We found somewhere not far away and ordered some wine. Kyle asked the bartender where there was a good steak and seafood restaurant, and he directed us to a place that was another ten-minute walk.

  After a couple of drinks, my appetite had disappeared, but we definitely needed to eat as the night was still young. We laughed about some of the people we went to school with and the idiosyncrasies of our parents. Kyle told me that he rarely saw his mum or spoke to her, which made me a little sad for him. I laid my hand on his arm, but he shrugged it off. “I don’t need my mum, I’ve got Mags.” He grinned.

  “Do you and my mum speak often?” I asked curious, my mum didn’t mention Kyle. She must have assumed that I wouldn’t be interested and so had never kept me up to date.

  “Once a week or so.” He smiled, “She texts me, checks up on me. My dad … not so much.” I felt for him, as my parents were almost stifling when I was young and just as interested in my every move these days, too. My dad was now remarried, but he still commented on everything I did. One of those comments was about me leaving Simon in our house. He felt it was a bad idea, but the last thing I wanted was all those memories, even if it left me penniless. I always felt like they were too overprotective, but I appreciated their concern, and over the years I learnt to embrace it. It must be awful to have uninterested parents.

  “That’s nice,” I sighed, “I never knew that.”

&nbs
p; “She doesn’t talk about me?” He looked perplexed.

  “I suppose it never came up.” I wondered why but changed the subject, “Anyway, do you still speak to Vinnie? He and Ashley have a baby due in a few weeks.”

  “Shit, really?” He shook his head. “I’ve not seen my school friends for years. We were never really tight after school. I never thought he’d end up with Ashley, Jesus. That’s nice though. I take it you, Ashley, and Kathryn are still close?”

  “Ashley and me, yes, but Kathryn lives in New Zealand now, we’re in contact on Facebook. She’s engaged to a doctor out there. She’s a doctor, too like her parents.”

  “Cool. So Ash know you’re here … with me?”

  “Yeah.” I looked down to my glass.

  “She thinking it’s a bad idea?”

  “Suppose, but she doesn’t know how it is now.” I squirmed.

  “How is it now?” He glared at me until I looked up into his eyes.

  “Well we’re friends, siblings, like we always should have been. Aren’t we?”

  He shrugged. “I would have said it’s complicated, but that covers it as well.” He laughed, taking a swig of his wine. “Come on drink up, let’s go and get food.”

  “Is it complicated?” I asked, putting my glass to my lips and taking the last mouthful quickly.

  “Always with you.” He sighed. My stomach fluttered, and I scolded myself. A few wines and we were flirting again. I needed to rein that in as this summer wasn’t about Kyle and me, but I was stupid to deny that there was chemistry. He was making me forget Simon and not just because he took me out of the situation, but mostly because he put himself into the situation.

  We walked slowly to the restaurant breathing in the sea air, and even in the silence there wasn’t any awkwardness. I had meant what I said, Kyle and I were truly friends now, but maybe the sibling part could never be true. Subconsciously, I had said it to close any doubt that things could be rekindled between us, but he had brushed over it. We both knew that siblings was far from the truth and after a few drinks, I wondered how good Kyle looked naked as a twenty-eight year old man because he had kicked ass as an eighteen year old.

  “Soph?” I was broken out of my fantasy. “We’re here.”

  “More wine?” he asked as were seated. I nodded and began looking at the menu. I needed something substantial to feel less tipsy and more focused without my mind roaming over Kyle.

  I ordered a medium steak with salad and potato wedges. Kyle ordered lobster therimdor. “We can share,” he said, snapping the menu shut, “if you want to?”

  “Sure.” I smiled. The wine arrived and Kyle poured me a generous glass.

  “So, first time in Brighton?” he sighed, “this place is pretty cool in season. Did Simon like to party?”

  I choked mid-sip of my wine. “Wow.” I laughed. “Are we talking about this already?”

  He grinned, “What?”

  “I thought it’d be a couple of weeks before you interrogated me about Simon and then ripped him to shreds.”

  “What’s to rip? It’s obvious the guy doesn’t know a good thing when he sees it. I just want to know what you’ve been missing out on these past few years.”

  “Well, no, he wasn’t a party animal, or much of a drinker or a socialiser really.”

  “Then what was he?” He tipped his head to the side, his eyes staring, intently awaiting my answer.

  “Safe.” I shrugged. “Dependable, normal, easy and …”

  “Boring.” Kyle grinned.

  “Maybe.” I shook my head. “I didn’t see it that way though. I wanted a sure thing and someone who I knew would always be there.”

  “But he dumped you,” he said incredulously.

  “I know,” I said quietly, “that’s the irony, I chose a man who bored me to tears because I thought he’d never leave me, and he left me anyway. Hopeless.” I laughed to hide the pain.

  “If you ask me, he didn’t set you on fire, and he knew it. It was damage control because you could never have stuck that out.”

  “You don’t know that,” I snapped.

  “I know you better than you think,” he said wryly. “I know that some boring twat wouldn’t make you happy forever. He’s done you a favour.”

  “Oh yeah,” I said boldly. “So what makes me happy?” I asked dryly.

  “Me,” he said matter-of-factly just as our food arrived.

  The following morning I woke with a slight hangover, I was slowly getting used to the alcohol intake that came hand-in-hand with Kyle. We missed the hotel breakfast but were ready to explore at around eleven am. We wandered along the promenade and got some brunch from a café on the way. I had eggs Benedict and Kyle ordered a full English breakfast. His appetite was enormous for someone who had such a great body. He must go to the gym a lot to keep it up. We planned our day, looking through a tourist leaflet that Kyle had picked up at the hotel.

  “I thought you’d been here before?” I said, looking for places of interest.

  “I never saw the daylight.” He laughed. “I’m new to the tourist thing.”

  “Oh.” I nodded, taking the leaflet in hand and wondering exactly who he didn’t see the daylight with last time he was here.

  “How about we hit the pier, have a look round there, and then the shops?”

  “I quite want to see the Pavilion,” I added, “is that sad? I love stately homes and castles.”

  “Well, technically it’s a palace,” he teased.

  “Same difference.”

  “Okay.” He grinned. “Pier, palace, and then shops if we have time?”

  “Sounds great.” I grinned. I felt excited for our day together and couldn’t wait to start exploring. It reminded me of how Kyle used to make me feel back in the day. Every touch, every stolen kiss set me on fire, and just the promise of five minutes together would keep me going all day. A smile from him would ease any worries I ever had, and it was only when we were apart that my mind wandered about the enormity of what we were doing.

  We walked to the pier, got some candy floss, and laughed. We played a few slot machines and mused how similar it was to Blackpool. We finally made our way to the rides, buying tickets, and tackling the roller coaster that seemed to hang out over the water. I was a dare devil for rides, but somehow these felt more dangerous as they were squeezed onto the pier. We laughed manically on the waltzers, and the ride supervisor spun us so fast that I couldn’t lift my head up.

  From there we walked to the pavilion. It took us half an hour, and I was glad that I wore my Converse. Kyle made a spectacle of himself, following the tour guide leaflet that we had brought, pointing other areas of interest out to me in an informative voice. I tried to ignore him at first, but he insisted on reading loudly and getting in my face until I cracked a smile. When we found the Royal Pavilion, I was immediately blown away by its beauty, and could not wait to get inside. We made our way through the luscious gardens until we were inside, and I was in awe of the magnificence of the place, the décor was out of this world. Kyle seemed impressed, but not as enthusiastic as me. Later we found the tea room and shared tea from an old fashioned English teapot, and a scone.

  The afternoon was starting to draw in as we left the palace. I was grinning from ear to ear. Kyle pulled me to him, his arm around my shoulder.

  “The bitch is back,” he said, giving me a squeeze.

  “I hope so.” I sighed as he let me go. I turned to him and the grin just wouldn’t fade.

  “Happy suits you so much better, Soph,” he said.

  “You soppy bastard.” I laughed.

  “I got you this,” he said, handing me a brown paper bag that said “Royal Pavilion” on it in royal blue writing. “I got it when you went to the toilet.”

  “What is it?” I asked as my hand gripped the bag.

  “Open it,” he said, looking forward absently.

  We slowed our walk, and I reached inside the bag, and there was an eraser that was every colour of the rainbow, and
on it was printed “Royal Pavilion”. “Oh my God,” I said, “it’s just like the one …”

  “Your nana got you from Sandringham House,” he finished.

  “That I lost when we moved house,” I said quietly. “You remembered that?”

  “Of course.” He shrugged. “I paid attention.”

  I was lost for words, choked with emotion that I refused to show. “I … how did you know it was like this?”

  “No big deal.” He laughed, a little embarrassed. “I just saw it and remembered the story. That’s all.”

  “Thanks Kyle.” I pulled him to me and hugged him tightly.

  “It’s only an eraser, nothing really.”

  I smiled to him, looking up into his chiselled face. “Thanks,” I said simply, tearing my eyes away. I had forgotten that I ever told him that story, that it was the last thing my Nana had bought me before she died of cancer and how much it meant to me. It was stupid, worthless really, but it had meant everything to me, and the day she gave it to me I was in awe of an eraser that looked like a rainbow. I decided that day that it was far too good to ever be used, and so it became priceless to me after she died. He threw his arm over my shoulder again. “We can marker pen Sandringham over the “Royal Pavilion” bit.” He laughed.

  Later that night we dressed up for a big night out. I wore a strapless, deep pink dress that was fitted and cut in at the waist by a black belt. I piled my hair on top of my head into a bun and wore long gold earrings that made my neck look longer. I even applied false eyelashes and wore eyeliner to provide an Audrey Hepburn feel to the outfit. Kyle came for me around seven, and when he saw me he wolf whistled.

  “Looking damn fine, Miss King.” He grinned.

  “You too,” I said. “Let’s go.” He wore dark jeans, a tight black top, and a grey suit jacket. He looked irresistible as usual, and I wondered if Kyle could ever look any other way. People turned to look at him as we left the hotel, and I felt a surge of pride that he was mine for the night.

  We grabbed some dinner at a small Italian restaurant before having drinks at some trendy local bars. Kyle ordered champagne, and I was tipsy after my third glass.