Kyland (Sign of Love #7) (14 page)

Tenleigh

"Why are you avoiding me?"

He whipped his head around, a look of surprise on his face. "Tenleigh, Jesus, you scared me." I thought of those first few times he did the same to me, and my heart squeezed. I felt like I was losing him, and he hadn't even gone yet. We'd both been busy lately—and I'd been working at least three times a week, which was good, but as the weeks passed, it had become clear that us not seeing each other as much was purposeful on his part. I looked at him expectantly until he pursed his lips and let out a breath. "I just have so much to do . . . finals coming up, figuring out what to do with my house, all the stuff . . ." he trailed off.

"You're avoiding me."

Something that looked like pain washed over his face for a brief second before he schooled his expression. "Tenleigh," he whispered, "don't you think it'll be easier if we—"

"If we what?" I demanded. We were standing on the trail that led to the main road near the top of the hill, the back way he'd been taking home from school for almost a month now. I looked down at my feet when he didn't answer. "I miss you. We have so little time together. And things are so unclear . . ." I shook my head. "Neither one of us knows what's going to happen, and maybe—"

"I'm leaving. That's what's going to happen. Did you think this thing between you and me, that it would change my mind somehow?"

Hurt speared me and I couldn't help wincing. "No. That's not what I thought. But I never expected . . . I never—"

His eyes flared as he seemed to recognize where I was going with my words. He advanced on me, his body moving into my space until he stood directly in front of me. "Don't," he said, almost pleadingly. "Don't. Please don't."

I lifted my gaze, gathering all my courage, refusing to back down. "I never expected to fall in love with you. And I thought maybe . . ."

. . . you could love me back. Even if you leave. You could leave loving me.

His body was utterly still. Somewhere overhead a hawk called out and the breeze ruffled the trees surrounding us. And still his eyes held mine.

He cursed under his breath and then his lips were on mine, his tongue hot and demanding as it parted my lips and plunged into my mouth. It wasn't exactly the answer I was hoping for, but it was something. Not nearly enough, but something.

Kyland broke away, breathing hard and gripping my head in his large hands. He pressed his forehead to mine and we just breathed together for a minute.

"I'm going camping tonight."

I blinked. "Camping?" I repeated. That hadn't been the response I was expecting.

He pulled away and looked down at me, his face still tense. "Yeah." He ran his hand through his hair, taming it. "My family, we . . . it was something we used to do on my birthday every year. I used to like it—we'd go up to this field filled with lavender and," he ran his hand through his hair again, "anyway, I've kept doing it every year."

I nodded. "I know where you're talking about. It's where I collect the lavender I use to make that tea . . . and those sachets . . ." I trailed off. This felt so awkward and I wanted to cry.
Oh, Kyland, I already miss you desperately and you're not even gone yet.
I stared down at my feet.

I'd told him I loved him and he hadn't said it back.

When I looked back up at him, he was squinting up at the sky. After a moment, he lowered his eyes to mine. There was something wild and raw in his expression, but he just stood there looking at me for a second before he grabbed my hand and started walking toward home. It felt like it'd been so long since he'd touched me. His hand felt warm and solid in mine.

We walked in silence, my heart hurting and Kyland seeming to grow more intense by the moment. He didn't let go of my hand when we passed my trailer and so I continued on with him until we got to his house.

I didn't know whether I wanted to cry or throw something, but the sorrow I'd been feeling for weeks now was suddenly heating inside of me to a bubbling anger.

Kyland let go of my hand and opened the door to his house. I walked inside with him, not even understanding why I was there.

When I got inside, I gasped, the anger flowing out of me to be replaced with shocked pain. There were boxes piled everywhere and the wood stove that had sat in the middle of the living room was gone. "What?" I asked.

Kyland followed my eyes. "I sold it for two hundred fifty dollars to some guy in Evansly. He drove up here and bought it, along with my mama's kitchen table set."

I gaped, misery moving through my body. I nodded, a tear finally escaping my eye. I swiped at it, embarrassed.

This was happening. He was leaving.

"Tenleigh," Kyland said, his voice gravelly. "Please don't cry." He stepped toward me. "Anything but that. Please." He sounded desperate. "This is what I've been trying to avoid.
This
. I don't want either of us to feel this way."

He'd been pulling away from me to make it easier. And yet pulling away only made it hurt more.

"Well, I do! And you don't get to take that from me. I love you, and you don't get to say anything about it. The love I feel for you is mine. And I'll feel it if I want to."

"Tenleigh," he repeated, his voice cracking. "Don't love me. Please don't love me. I can't stay here. Don't love me."

"It's too late." I shook my head back and forth in defiance. "It's too late. I'm not asking you to stay, but it's too late for me not to love you."

The look that passed over his features was tortured. "It can't be," he said, shaking his head.

"It is."

His eyes met mine and he walked slowly to me, the look of intensity in his eyes increasing. He stepped right up to my body and his eyes lingered on my mouth for several moments before he pressed his warm lips to my own. The gentleness of the kiss was in direct contrast to the expression on his face and the energy moving between us. I didn't know what to make of it.

"I love you, Kyland," I whispered when our lips had parted. I put my hand up on his cheek. "And I'll love you whether you're here in Dennville, or whether you're in New York City, or London, or on Jupiter. I love you."

He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a loud whoosh of air. He pushed his fingers into my hair and grabbed hold of it gently. "This is a mistake."

I shook my head back and forth slowly, his hands in my hair causing it to pull against my scalp as I gazed into his troubled eyes. "How can love be a mistake?"

I wrapped my arms around his back, sliding my palms up his shirt to feel his smooth, warm skin. He stepped closer into my embrace.

"I love you, too, Ten," he finally said softly. "That's why this is so hard." He seemed almost defeated, as if the words themselves had stolen something from him.

My heart soared as much as it lay bleeding from hearing the distress in his voice and standing among the proof of his imminent departure. I held him tighter. "Whatever you need, Ky. Whatever that is, I'll give it to you."

He let out a long, shuddery breath, but remained silent.

The problem was I didn't know if us loving each other changed anything. In fact, after everything Kyland had shared with me over the past months, I understood more than anyone why he needed to leave. He deserved to live a life out of this house of loneliness and loss. He had to picture his torment every day—hear his brother's cries in the very walls, hear his father's voice in every room, feel his mother's absence, her abandonment. I wanted him out of here as much as he did, and yet it still hurt so much. I bit my lip. But maybe . . . maybe if he won that scholarship, he wouldn't leave me behind. Maybe sometime,
somehow
, we could even make a life together away from here. Maybe he'd allow that—maybe not everything from Dennville, Kentucky had to hurt. And maybe he'd be willing to take the one thing that didn't—me—with him, in his heart at first, and later . . . later, into his home, his life. Maybe first he needed some time to live without his demons, to begin to believe that love didn't always have to hurt, that sometimes love was enough. I'd wait. I'd wait as long as he needed me to.

We lay down on the couch together and stayed that way for a long time, Kyland lost in his own mind, and me lost in mine. After a while, he asked if I wanted to stay and study a little bit with him—finals were on Monday. We didn't discuss our feelings anymore.

Was love supposed to hurt like this?

We ate vegetable soup at his coffee table for dinner and then I kissed him goodbye. Marlo would be leaving for work soon and I needed to get home and make sure my mama was okay.

"I won't see you this weekend," I said sadly. "Be safe, okay?"

Kyland nodded, some kind of sad longing in his eyes. But he was the one going away. That was his choice. And maybe he needed it. Maybe he needed that time in that place where he had a few happy memories of his family. Maybe that was exactly what he needed. Maybe that was exactly what
I
needed. Maybe I simply had to let him go.

I loved him. I'd give him whatever he needed.

"It's your birthday tomorrow, too," he said, softly. "What are your plans?"

I shrugged. "Oh, Marlo will probably bake me a cake as hard as a brick and I'll do some reading." I smiled and he smiled back, brushing a piece of hair off my forehead.

"Happy birthday, Tenleigh."

"Happy birthday, Kyland."

We kissed slowly and deeply for several minutes on his couch and I sensed his desire for me. But when I pulled back, he let me. I kissed him one last time on his mouth and then I walked back to my trailer. My heart felt as though it was breaking into so many pieces, and for the life of me, I couldn't figure out how to keep them all together. And I wasn't sure I even wanted to.

Kyland

The place where I had camped with my family for years was always a little more peaceful than I remembered it—which was good because I needed a good dose of peace. Tenleigh had told me she loved me, and I'd said it back. It filled me with joy and fearful desperation. I had nothing to offer her, and now, how would I leave her behind?

I'd almost gone to her trailer and asked her to come with me before I'd left, but I'd resisted. The problem was, I'd been resisting her for over three weeks and I thought it would have gotten easier. Instead, my longing for her had only increased. I
craved
her. It was a hunger deep inside my gut—a burning that only grew fiercer, more demanding without being fed. And I knew I'd loved her for a long time—perhaps even far longer than she'd loved me. When had it happened? When had I let my guard down enough to let her sweetness slip around my heart in a way I'd never untangle myself from? And at this point, what did it even matter?

I looked around. There was a huge, ancient oak that provided the cover we'd always used for our "campground." We hadn't been able to afford camping gear and so we'd used the same blankets and quilts we always slept in, just with a plastic tarp underneath. My dad would make burgoo, a stew that was made from possums and squirrels and any other wild game you could catch in a small trap—venison if you had a gun. It was supposed to be a delicacy, but like so many other "delicacies," it was probably born from starvation and the likelihood that calling something a delicacy made it more palatable. As gross as it sounded, it was good. And I made a batch of it every year for this trip, which just happened to be my birthday. I thought my dad would probably like that.

I looked out to the field of lavender. I liked this spot because when the breeze kicked up, you could smell all those purple flowers—sweet and herbal at the same time. Calming. I sat on a huge fallen branch that had been there since I was a kid and regarded the wood for the campfire I'd laid out on the ground in front of me. I'd light it once the sky became dark and heat up the stew. I'd sleep under the stars in my makeshift sleeping bag in this spot for the very last time. I wouldn't come back here again. Something moved inside me that felt surprisingly like grief, an ache in my guts. I didn't exactly understand it—this place had been so full of pain for me because each time I came, I felt the absence of my family. But at the same time, there had been joy here, too, that I was only now remembering. How did I make sense of that? I couldn't stand these conflicting feelings. I wanted to feel hatred for Dennville, Kentucky—nothing more.

Tenleigh. This was because of Tenleigh. She was here and suddenly, there was beauty. Suddenly Dennville was
her
—the girl who had helped me move through some of the darkness, into the light. I groaned and then sat staring at the grassy ground for several minutes, debating what to do.

How had my life become suddenly so complicated? And so clear?

Tenleigh. Half agony, half hope.

My love for her was everything . . . and all at once.

I caught movement off to my left and lifted my head, startling slightly, and she was there, walking through the field of purple lavender toward me just like a dream. My heart flipped and I stood, everything inside me buzzing with sudden joy.
Shit.

She reached me and offered a tentative smile, her hands clasped in front of her. She had her hair loosely braided and falling over one shoulder and she was wearing a white sweater that fell off her shoulder, her creamy skin exposed. And I knew I'd never see a more beautiful vision than Tenleigh Falyn standing in a field of lavender.

She stood taller, seeming to gather some courage. When her eyes met mine, she said, "I've been thinking about it since yesterday, and I hoped you might be okay with some company. And I didn't figure you'd turn me away today of all days." Her smile was filled with innocent hope and it made my stomach clench.

I smiled back at her. "You wanted to go camping with me for your birthday?"

She pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth and nodded. "More than anything."

I suddenly felt full of some form of happiness I'd never experienced before. Maybe it was the sudden appearance of the very person I'd been missing. Maybe it was the loneliness I'd just been feeling floating away as soon as Tenleigh appeared in my line of sight. Maybe it was just
gratefulness
, and God knew I'd had very little to be grateful for in the course of my life. I offered her a bigger smile and said, "This could be dangerous. What if sleeping outside turns me into a caveman and I try to drag you by your hair into my sleeping bag?" I lifted one side of my mouth to let her know I was teasing. We hadn't been lighthearted in what seemed like such a long time, and it felt so good.

"The ones who lived thousands of years ago?" she asked, amusement in her eyes as she teased me back. She tilted her head, her expression growing serious. "I wouldn't resist," she whispered, biting her full bottom lip.

I felt my eyes widen and my chest fill with tenderness. "Tenleigh," I breathed. Her lips were so beautiful. I wanted them on my skin. Everywhere. She didn't break eye contact with me. I stepped closer to her and her scent washed over me, distant wildflowers on a summer breeze. Suddenly, I felt like this was the most natural thing in the whole world. Standing outside under the shade of a giant oak tree, the endless sky stretching out around us, not a building in sight, I couldn't remember why I'd ever resisted her. I couldn't for the life of me think why we wouldn't act on the feelings that were swirling through the air around us, feelings only God himself could have invented. It was like there was some kind of magic in the breeze that reduced the world down to just the two of us, standing there. I closed my eyes and inhaled, growing dizzy with the feeling of need coursing through my system, and let my instincts take over. I leaned in and she tilted her head back, lifting her lips to mine, parting them to permit me access. I groaned and pressed my lips to hers, any fleeting thoughts of why this shouldn't happen lost in the mingled sound of our moans and the wet sound of our tongues dancing.

I ran my hands down the sides of her body, moving slowly over her feminine curves, marveling at how differently she was made from me, how perfectly we fit together. "I want to feel your skin, Tenleigh," I choked out as I broke away from her lips and gazed down into her eyes—eyes filled with lust . . . and love.

The sun was just setting, twilight moving quickly across the mountains.

Tenleigh glanced quickly at the makeshift bed I'd set up on the ground under the far-reaching branches of the tree. She took my hand and led me to stand beside it.

"Tenleigh, I—" She reached up and put two fingers on my lips to stop my words. I went silent. Truthfully, I didn't know what I'd been about to say anyway. Another warning about how this wouldn't change anything? Another reminder I was still leaving? Surely she'd heard those words from me enough anyway—she probably didn't want to hear them in this moment. And I didn't really want to say them anyway. I was starting to wonder if I even meant them. I was starting to wonder a lot of things.

We kissed and kissed and kissed. We kissed for what seemed a lifetime. Tenleigh was the only girl I had ever kissed like that. Always before, I had quickly tried to move things to the next level. But with her, I let myself melt into the pleasure of her mouth, my body heating slowly. I memorized the feel of her soft body pressing into mine, the sweet taste of her lips, her tongue, her breath.

After a while she pulled back, her cheeks flushed and her lips wet and red, dark hair falling loose from her braid to frame her face. Sometimes her beauty was almost shocking. As I looked at her, it was as if the vision sunk through my skin, into my blood, my soul. My body pulsed with need.

"I'm going to try to be gentle," I said. Her eyes flared, but she only nodded. Visions were assaulting my brain—visions I'd pushed away before, but now I let swirl inside my mind—pictures of Tenleigh's head thrown back in passion, her legs wrapped around my hips as I drove into her.

I let myself imagine it. I let myself anticipate it, because it was about to happen.

Slowly, we stripped off our clothes as the other watched. Up until that point, I'd never experienced anything more erotic than watching Tenleigh bare herself to me, knowing that very soon I was going to be inside her. When she was completely nude, I let my eyes do a slow perusal of her body, although I'd seen her naked before. But that had always been in the dim walls of my room. This, this was under the setting sun, the golden light shining on her skin, the cool air pebbling her rose-colored nipples.

"You're stunning," I whispered.

Her own eyes ran over me, and my erection pulsed when her eyes landed on it. She raised her eyes to mine and said, "You're stunning, too. And I don't want you to be gentle with me. I want to feel
you
. I want all you have to give me."

I let out a groan and moved in close to her, my cock aching, my blood boiling under my skin.

I laid her down on the ground, feeling the first twinge of regret. She was beautiful and desirable. She deserved to be laid down on something better than old musty blankets under a tree. "Kyland," she whispered, taking my face in her hands and looking into my eyes as if she knew what I was thinking. "This is the best birthday of my life."

I smoothed her hair back. "Mine, too."

She arched her back as my mouth found her nipple. She moaned and pressed her body up into mine, her skin warm, her body soft. Her responsiveness, her wonder, her sweet innocence, was something I had no experience with and it changed me inside in some essential way I couldn't focus on figuring out right then. I simply absorbed it, enjoyed it.

Before long, we were both moaning and writhing and I was so turned on, I was praying I'd last long enough to make the experience at least somewhat noteworthy for her.

I reached down between her legs and felt her slippery liquid, running it up to her clit and circling gently. She gasped out and pressed herself up into my hand. I lowered my head back to her breast and suckled gently. She moaned out my name and after a minute, I felt her pulse and shudder under my hand.

I looked into her lust-fogged eyes and took myself in my hand and gently used my erection to open her. In response she parted her legs.
Oh Tenleigh, you're so perfect.
I grunted, trying to go as slowly as I could while my body was screaming at me to plunge inside her and rut like an animal. I wanted her so badly.

Tenleigh's hands came to my shoulders and she closed her eyes as I moved more deeply inside, her warmth surrounding the head of me and making me lose another portion of the control I was trying to hold to so tightly.

"Open your eyes, Ten," I gritted out. "Look at me." Look at me what? When I claim you? When I make you mine?
Yes
, my heart screamed. But I shut it down. No. We were each other's for tonight. But this didn't change anything. It couldn't.

Her eyes opened, gazing into mine as I plunged inside her in one smooth thrust. Her face flinched in pain and I felt my own flesh tear through hers, but she didn't cry out. And it was done. I had been so resistant to taking Tenleigh's virginity, but now I wasn't sorry. Whatever else happened, this part of her would always be mine. It would
never
belong to another man. Never. I watched her face closely as I began to move inside her, the bliss swirling through my balls, my abdomen, but she didn't flinch again. She ran her hands down my back, over my ass as I stroked inside of her, slowly at first and then with more desperation. She felt so good, so good. "I'm gonna come," I breathed out, taking one last blissful thrust into her as I erupted in pleasure, collapsing, and moaning my orgasm into her neck. I rolled slightly to the side so I wouldn't crush her. We lay like that for several minutes, Tenleigh running her nails up and down my back and me getting control of my breathing. When I rolled off her and looked down to see her virgin's blood on my half-hard cock, pride blasted through me. I tried my best to tamp it down, but the effort was in vain.

I fell back on the blankets in awe.

"That was amazing," I breathed. "God, Tenleigh, that was so amazing."

She smiled sweetly at me and nodded. "Yes." She sighed. "Yes, it was."

We didn't sleep much that night. She was a drug and I couldn't get enough of her. I wanted to live forever planted deep inside her. She must have been sore, but she never said anything. That night was made of damp skin and cries of pleasure that echoed through the hills. And I knew for the rest of my life, wherever I was, whoever I was with, when I thought of Tenleigh, I'd think of warmth and lavender and the wide open sky.

Sometime later when a luminous crescent moon hung suspended above us, I finally untangled myself from her and built a fire. We sat on the fallen tree trunk wrapped in quilts and I fed her burgoo heated over the open flame. An owl hooted incessantly in the background and Tenleigh's laughter rang out over the meadow as I told her story after story of some of the trouble Silas and I had gotten into as kids—stories that up until then, no one knew except my brother and me. And somehow it felt like I had brought another piece of him back to life.

We danced briefly under the starlight, Tenleigh laughing as I dipped her. "I'd take you to the prom if I could," I said softly, regretfully, bringing her back up so her body pressed against mine. "I'd do so many things if I could."