Raging Heart On_ Friends to Lovers Romance(7)

I push away from the table, shoving the table back a good foot and spilling food on Tommy’s parents. I walk away without a second glance. I told Mom and Jansen this was a stupid idea. I should have let Cyan come instead, but I thought I could use it as a way to get through to Kayla. Instead, I probably pushed her further away and into Tommy’s waiting arms.

And son of a bitch, if it doesn’t cut like a motherfucker that she didn’t leave with me tonight. Why does it feel like Mom’s right and I’m already losing her?





CHAPTER 5


KAYLA





“Do you realize it’s seven in the morning?”

I yawn, opening my front door to see White standing there holding a white paper bag and two large cups, which I’m praying contain coffee.

“You always get up early,” he defends, pushing his way inside. I sigh and close the door behind him. It appears I have early morning company.

“It’s Saturday,” I half-grumble and half-yawn. “Besides that, I’m not sure I want to talk to you after last night.”

“Your future in-laws are fuck wads.”

“You still didn’t have to go off like you did. I hope that’s coffee,” I tell him, reaching for one of the cups.

“Two sugars and cream.”

I ignore him, take a drink, and close my eyes as the caffeine begins to infiltrate my veins. If coffee is a drug, I’m a total addict. “Heaven.”

“A man could be jealous of that cup,” White says, and when I open my eyes, he’s looking at me strangely.

“What’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re acting all weird. Then there was the chaos of last night, and now you’re showing up at 7 a.m. with coffee and… oh my God! Are those Bavarian cream-filled doughnuts?”

“Your favorite, if I remember correctly, Buttercup.”

“Am I dying?” I ask as I bite into pure confectionary heaven.

“No one knows you like I do, Kayla. No one ever will,” he says with an odd look on his face.

His words hit this part in my stomach that literally hurts and then leaves it raw. My hand goes there almost in defense as I feel the burning bloom and curl around me, entering my bloodstream. He’s right. No one has ever known me like White does. We’ve been best friends since high school and, as much as it hurt to be in love with my best friend, the terror of not having him at all has kept me from ever telling him how I really felt. White is gorgeous. Women would flock to him regardless. Being a football god just makes it that much worse. He’s way out of my league. Not even in my zip code, honestly. Plus, White doesn’t do relationships. He’s horrible at them. The longest one he ever had lasted two months. Usually by the second week, he becomes so bored that he’s inventing reasons to stay away from them. By week four, he averages seeing them once a week with sporadic phone calls. By the second month, only the really stupid women are still hanging around, and he always sends them flowers with a note that says, in essence: “It’s not you—it’s me.”

The idea of ever becoming one of those women would kill me. I’d rather have my buddy than nothing at all… or I always had. But, now I’m tired of always being on the outside looking in. I don’t want to be the woman who was in love with a man she could never have, and because of that, failed to have kids and a family of her own. I want a home. A real home. A life I never had growing up until Ida Sue steamrolled her way in.

“That’s only because I’ve put up with your bullshit through the years,” I tell him, shaking off my thoughts.

“I’m just trying to make amends for last night. I shouldn’t have lost my cool,” he says.

I grimace. I knew going in what last night would be like. I just really needed someone with me because I hate Tommy’s family. They all treat me like a piece of ancient gum found under the table at a restaurant.

“Cynthia’s a bitch,” I tell him, then privately in my mind, I add: And so are the rest of them.

“I still don’t understand why he had to have her there.”

“He has a name.” I don’t truthfully understand why Tommy is so nice to Cynthia, except maybe in deference to their daughter. Still, even considering that, I didn’t like that she was at my dinner with the family. Tommy and I had words over it, and those words have slowly progressed into not talking much at all because we see things differently. That isn’t good, I know, but I’m not ready to bend just yet, and it’s not looking like Tommy will at all.

“Whatever,” White says, and all I can do is shake my head. “So what’s on the agenda for today?” he asks.