Hester Prynne

Hester Prynne

We couldn’t very well stay in that tent. Anyone could have walked in. Hell, Ian could have walked in—I didn’t see why he would have, but he could have, and that was a possibility I couldn’t deal with. No matter what was happening here, I didn’t want to hurt him. Sure, maybe he’d made me feel like absolute shit in the past few weeks, and maybe I wasn’t really too happy with him at the moment, but I still loved the guy. Like and love were different and neither mutually exclusive nor inclusive.

Several Facts:
1. Keeley, Dave, Craig and Hank were in town.
2. Kyle and I were alone in the trailer.
3. Together.
4. Together.
5. I was feeling slightly guilty.
6. I had never seen Kyle looking happier in all the time I had known him.

I rested my head against Kyle’s shoulder. The view here was the same as the view from the bunk where I probably should have been. “Damn,” Kyle muttered.

“Shh,” I shushed him. If he was quiet, and I only looked at the features that were the same in every trailer, I could almost pretend this was right.

“What?” he asked.

“Shh,” I shushed again. By God, I wished he would just lie there quietly. That would be better.

“Why?” he asked.

I kissed him to silence him. There was no pretending that this was home. He kissed me back and I felt something large and angry growing in the pit of my stomach—it started climbing up towards my heart. I shoved the feeling away.

“What time is it?” I asked absently when I pulled away. Surely it hadn’t been that long. It was sick that time mattered.

Kyle was still wearing his watch. He hadn’t even taken off his watch. I twisted around uncomfortably so he could see it, his arm pressing against the back of my neck. “Two thirty.” It had been almost three hours—it didn’t seem like three hours. Three hours ago, I hadn’t been with Kyle. Three hours ago, I’d felt miserable. But three hours ago, I hadn’t fought with Ian.

Oh, shit. Ian.

“Shit,” I muttered. If it had been three hours, Ian was probably done practicing. We’d fought—he would probably be coming to look for me soon. I had to get the hell out of here. I started working my way out of Kyle’s arms.

He tightened his grasp. “What’s the matter?” He lifted his head slightly from the pillow to look at me.

Now, I didn’t precisely want to bring up the matter of Ian, now did I? “People are going to be looking for us soon,” I explained, purposely keeping the subject general. “And when are your people coming home? I really don’t think this is the best thing for them to walk in on, do you?”

He didn’t let go immediately and for a moment, I thought he was going to say that he wanted them to know, that he was going to tell them himself—hell, maybe even that he was going to tell Ian himself. The thought made my heart flutter for one horrifying moment. But then Kyle sighed, said, “I guess not,” and let me go slowly. I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. It was perverse and insane for me to put all my eggs in Kyle’s basket, but here I was, placing in him trust that I wasn’t sure he completely deserved. It was stupid, stupid, stupid, but I was doing it anyway.

Slowly, I gathered up my clothes. He watched, unmoving. Even though I’d been fresh out of the shower when I’d gotten dressed, my clothes felt grimy from being on the floor, as if I had worn them a few days too many without washing. I needed another shower. I needed to find a Laundromat. This was disgusting.

Kyle was watching me with hungry eyes. “They wouldn’t mind, you know,” he commented idly as I pulled my shirt over my head. “They all like you, and they even kind of like me a little.” His tone was as dry as could be. “They aren’t the ones with the issue, Sloan, you know.” He arched a single eyebrow.

Ah, so he knew that I was planning on not telling Ian about this. I buttoned my pants. “There’s no possible way the angel twins—Craig and Hank,” I amended, when he offered me a quizzical twist of his mouth, “like me. I can’t even tell them apart. They can definitely tell that I can’t tell.” I was dancing around the issue and Kyle probably knew it, but he wasn’t about to ruin whatever had happened today by arguing. It was an argument that had driven me here. He thought an argument would drive me away. I could see it in his expression, in the way he bit back his retort.

“They like you,” he insisted. “They wouldn’t have a problem with us.” The “us” sounded strange in context—me and Kyle? No, no, that did not make an “us”.

“I should probably learn to tell them apart, then, huh?” I was completely dressed. Kyle was still in bed, so I lounged against the post of Keeley’s bed. This was an uncomfortable exchange. Where were we supposed to go after this, then? Was this a one-time deal? Would I be able to speak to Kyle again after this? Had we damned whatever shades of a friendship had been starting?

He shook his head. I simply refused to pick up on the bait. “Yeah, you should probably learn to tell them apart, especially considering they’re not even identical. They don’t even look that much alike.”

I nodded.

He nodded.

A Short Conversation:
“I should go.”
“Yeah, go.”
He still wasn’t wearing any clothes. He was beautiful. He still wasn’t moving.
“Well, I guess I’ll talk to you later then.”
“Sure, Sloan, sure.”