A Boy Like You (Like Us Book 1)(12)

I'm looking forward to getting to know TK more. Taryn talked him into  coming to Kyle and Connor's tonight. I think the Marley boys like him  too. Conner seems to like all three Stokes brothers, actually. But Kyle  hasn't said the nicest things about Wes since I've gotten to his house  tonight. I think he's just threatened by him. I only know what I've seen  from my side-glances during practice this week, but even from far away I  can tell that Wes is ten times the pitcher Kyle is.

"Why do you like coming to my house so early, Joss? Hmmmm?" Kyle says,  his mouth right over my shoulder as he passes behind me, two cases of  beer in either hand.

"Clearly, it's because I'm secretly hot for you and can't get enough,  Kyle," I say in my bored voice. He laughs hard once, then presses his  lips down on my bare shoulder in a friendly peck before moving all the  way into the kitchen.

Kyle is me. I'm Kyle. As much as Taryn is my best friend, Kyle is the  one I turn to when I need to be destructive, when I'm angry and I want  to vent, when I need to show my ugly parts and talk truth. We grew up  together, and we both played tee-ball for my dad as kids. Kyle was  always my dad's favorite. Though, my dad goes through his favorites like  I do brands of cigarettes. Kyle fell out of favor the first time he got  hauled in for drag racing with me in the car. My dad was too drunk to  pick me up from the police station, so Mr. Marley took me home.

My dad benched Kyle for two weeks, and as bad as I felt for my friend,  it felt nice that my dad was upset over someone putting me at risk. Then  I overheard him having a conversation with Kyle outside his coaching  office. He told him he didn't think I was a good influence on him and  that I would ruin his chances at making it to the next level in  baseball. Kyle told him he would never walk away from me, and then he  called my father pathetic. He's been last in the rotation ever since. He  worked his way up to starting by the end of last season, but only  because he throws hard. Wes throws harder; I don't think he'll have that  luck again this year.

"So what's up with your girl and TK?" Kyle smirks, wiggling an eyebrow  at me while he rips open one of the beer cases and begins loading his  kitchen fridge.

Kyle's dad is a wildland firefighter, and his parents are divorced. His  dad's schedule leaves an empty house most weekends, so as long as we  help him clean up on Sundays, he always hosts.

"I don't know, yo. My girl is pretty smitten with your new shortstop. He  seems like a good guy," I say, tapping my pack of cigarettes in my palm  and offering one to Kyle. He shrugs it off.

"I'm quitting," he says, and I bunch my brow. Kyle's the reason I  smoke-what the hell? "What? I'm allowed to quit. That shit really is bad  for you, and you should quit too."

I flip Kyle off and place my cigarette between my lips, standing up from my seat to feel for the lighter in my back pocket.

"TK, though? Yeah … he's a good guy. He's fitting in with the team," Kyle says, and I know he's leaving something out.

"How about Wes and Levi?" I ask, checking my front pockets as well as the floor beneath me for my lighter.

"Yeah, they're a'right. Wes is a little … I don't know … quiet, I guess," he  says, swallowing in the middle of his speech. That's a jealous swallow,  but I give him this one, pretending I don't notice.

"Dude, have you seen my lighter?" I ask, both hands deep in my back  pockets again as if that four-inch space against my ass cheeks is going  to suddenly produce the Zippo it's been hiding all along. The second I  turn around, I'm face-to-face with Wes. I smile, cigarette still perched  in my lips, and I feel like an asshole.         

     



 

"You probably forgot it. You're always forgetting it," Kyle says behind me.

"Yeah," I say, pulling the cigarette from my lips and sliding it back in the pack I've left on the counter.

"You should quit anyway," Wes says, moving into the seat next to the one I'd just left.

"Probably," I say, refusing to make eye contact with him again. "I've been hearing that a lot lately."

Kyle chuckles, and I hold up my middle finger against the other side of my face, which only makes him laugh harder.

"Joss! I feel like I haven't seen you since you lit my brother up on the  mound," Levi says, reaching around me for a hug. It surprises me; my  hands awkwardly pat at his arms. I catch Kyle's face over his back as  he's laughing at me so hard he's squinting, and I scowl, which only  pushes him into a gut-busting kind of laughter.

"Joss lit you up?" Kyle finally asks, leaning over the other side of the  counter, handing a beer to Wes. He takes it in his hand and pulls back  the tab, which surprises me. I didn't expect Rule Follower to drink. I  also didn't expect Kyle to be so hospitable to him. It's a night full of  surprises it seems.

"She did," Wes says, nodding before taking a long chug, which I swear  he's doing just to prove to me that he does, in fact, break rules. I  watch his lips leave the can and the movement feels like it happens in  slow motion. I look down after one side of his mouth lifts into a smile  again. He's grinning because he caught me watching him. I wince knowing  everyone saw me looking at him, and I bet I looked all doe-eyed.

"It's because you don't know how to hide your grip," I shrug, daring to  glance up at him as if looking at him is no big deal to me. His eyes  meet mine instantly, and I inelegantly attempt to look away.

"We've been working on that," he says through a soft laugh that comes  from his chest. It makes me turn my head to the side and glare at his  chest, and the way his dark gray shirt hugs his muscles, and the thin  chain that peeks out from under the collar of his T-shirt, and his neck,  and the golden color of his skin. I get up and move to the other side  of the counter next to Kyle so I stop looking at him, so others don't  make assumptions, and to check myself.

"I knew my dad would like you," I say softly, my eyes trained on the  beer now cuddled between my hands on the counter. Kyle's foot rests next  to mine, and I know he's telling me it's okay, that Wes replaced him  too.

"Who wants to play I Never, bitches?" Taryn busts into the kitchen with  TK's arm around her, more beer in his other arm. He slides it on the  counter and slaps hands with Kyle, pulling him in for a hug. He's  hugging me seconds later, and I can't help but laugh out loud through  the grin pressing into my cheeks. It's as if TK has been in our circle  since it was formed.

I let go of him, letting him return his arm to Taryn, who snuggles in  quickly. She's fallen hard, but somehow, this time feels different. I  notice Wes stand up nearby, crinkling his can and moving around the  counter toward Kyle, holding it and asking where to recycle. His can  isn't even empty yet. He looks anxious, and I see the subtleties in his  eyes. He's looking for some place to go, something to do. He's hiding,  even though it's out in the open, and I realize-as much as Levi and TK  are at home-Wes is an alien.

I notice Conner, Kyle's brother, in the living room, so I nod over my  shoulder for Wes to follow me into the other room. I'm not sure he's  come with me until I feel his weight sink in next to me on the worn  leather sofa.

Conner is lining cups around the coffee table, and Wes tilts his head  with a strange look. I recognize it, so I fill in the blanks for him.

"They're twins," I say.

"Ahhh, yeah. They're like … identical," Wes says, his eyes still stuck on  Conner with the same amazement as he would have watching baby chicks  hatch.

"Yep, identical. That's a thing," I smile. He shakes his head slightly  and looks to me with a lopsided grin. "They must not have any weird  oddities like that in Nevada?"

"Ha, yeah … they do. I just … I didn't know there were two of them," he  says, gesturing to the kitchen where Kyle is still talking with Wes's  brothers.

"We're totally different, though," Conner finally speaks, stepping  around the table to shake Wes's hand. He rarely speaks. Not that he  can't, he's just not the social butterfly his brother is. Two  carbon-copy blond hotties-though only Kyle has the surfer body-and green  eyes, the Marley twins are meant to walk two diverging paths in life.  Conner will probably be our class valedictorian, whereas Kyle will  scrape by with a 2.0. However, Kyle can take a punch and throw an  eighty-five-mile-per-hour fastball. Conner couldn't break a window with a  rock.         

     



 

After another minute or two, the others join us in the living room. Kyle  brings in a dozen cold beers ready to fill the cups, and I tap the one  in front of me. He quirks a lip, and I tell him to shut up and fill it.

"Always so eager to get right to the buzz, Joss. I don't think you even  taste half the shit you drink," Kyle says, filling my plastic cup to the  top, knowing I'll drink most of it down before we even begin to play.