Imaginary Boyfriend

Chapter 22: Unravelling

-- Sam's POV --

I snapped the phone shut and flung it onto the couch.

            I looked at the groceries I’d picked up and then sunk into the nearest chair. My shoulders sagged and I sighed heavily. I’d planned to make her dinner—to cheer her up—and then I was going to admit my feelings for her.

            It was sudden, but after Sarah, I realised I really couldn’t get over Katrina. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t. Everything about her made me love her, even her flaws.

            But, really, who was I kidding?

            There’s no way she’d be interested in someone like me. The only reason she’d ever agree to go out with me was to get her parents off her back, for God’s sake!

            I ran a hand through my hair. Why did she have to be out, today of all days? Then I sighed. This was entirely my fault. I had overreacted. And now she was angry at me. I shouldn’t have shouted at her. She had a life outside of me. Was I being possessive of her now?

            Sighing, I decided she probably wouldn’t be back for hours. I knew Katrina, and she was stubborn. My mind was reeling. Who was this “friend” of hers that she couldn’t tell me about? A boyfriend?

            Jealousy flooded through me. Why couldn’t she love me? It happened all the time, didn’t it? When two friends who’d known each other for years would eventually hook up. Or was that just in the movies?

            I got up and trudged towards the kitchen to start making dinner. I’d never had a particular interest for cooking, especially since the last time I tried it I set Katrina’s hair on fire, but I’d do it for her. True, it probably wouldn’t taste well, but I just know she’d appreciate it.

            Any girl probably would.

            I was going to cook dinner for her—to say sorry, but I wasn’t going to admit my feelings for her. I just had to find a way to get over her.

            I walked over to the cupboard to find the recipe book. Katrina had hidden it from me ever since that little accident with her hair (which really was just an accident) but she didn’t have a very good hiding place for it.

            The door swung open and something fell out.

            Curious, I picked up the piece of paper and recognised Katrina’s writing.

            Ways to get over Sam.

**

Back to Kat's POV guys

            “Alright, Craig, you’ve got school tomorrow. Time for bed.”

            “Aw, Dad!” Craig whined, folding his arms across his chest and staring pleadingly at Rhys. “One more hour?”

            I grinned. “Your dad’s right, mate. Off you go.” I waved him off dismissively, and snickered when he turned to glare at me.

            After having a hissy fit for ten minutes, Craig was less than pleased to find that his father wasn’t negotiating this, and stomped upstairs to his room and slamming the door shut behind him.

            I glanced at the clock. “I should really go,” I told Rhys, “Sam and I usually have dinner together—” I turned back to Rhys and a gasp escaped my lips when I realised he was closer to me than I thought. His face was mere inches away from mine and I could feel his breath on my cheek. “Erm...”

            “You’ve been a really good friend to me, Katrina,” he breathed, clasping my hand and squeezing my fingers. As soon as his skin made contact with mine, it sent tingles through me. I looked down at our entwined fingers and then averted my gaze to the floor.

            I swallowed nervously, uncomfortable by the proximity but not exactly hating it. “Erm, it’s no problem, really...”

            “You were there when I really needed you,” he continued, his eyes boring into mine.

            I didn’t reply. In my mind, I was having an argument with myself.

            His head moved closer. My pulse quickened.

            You can’t kiss him! He’s not Sam—you love Sam, not him, one part of me argued desperately.

            But Sam doesn’t like you like that... Rhys does. This is the perfect way to get over him, the other part of me insisted.

            His lips brushed mine...

            I found myself lost in his kiss. It was amazing. At first, it was soft and sweet, tender and gentle. But then it got harsher. My lips moved with his in strange, complicated ways as the kiss turned more hungry. All I could feel was him.

            He pressed me gently into the couch and I knotted my fingers in his mess of brown curls. I opened my eyes to find his deep chocolate brown eyes gazing back at me.

            When I closed my eyes again, I realised something was wrong.

            Rhys was blonde, not brunette.

            Rhys didn’t have brown eyes, he had blue eyes.

            I froze. “Wait, stop...”

            He pulled away instantly because that was the kind of guy he was.

            “I can’t do this,” I whispered. In body, I was kissing Rhys. But in mind... I was kissing Sam. It wasn’t Rhys’ kiss that I craved, or Rhys’ touch that sent my heart racing, it was Sam’s.

            “What?” he asked, confused.

            “I’m so sorry,” I mumbled, moving up into a sitting position. I smoothed down my shirt and hastily stood up. “I just... I can’t do this.”

            “Wait!” he called as I stumbled out of the room. “What did I do?”

            I glanced over my shoulder and felt pity well up inside me. I’d used him to get over Sam. He didn’t deserve that. Even though I was kissing Sam, he was kissing me. I couldn’t go on like this.

            “No,” I said, “it’s not you. It’s me.”

            And with that, I ran out of the room and out of the house. I was on the verge of tears by the time I got to my car. Why? Why couldn’t I stop thinking about Sam? Why couldn’t I kiss Rhys?

            I drove back to the apartment, knowing full well that Sam was going to be there. But I didn’t care that I was supposed to be angry at him, or that I was supposed to avoid him at all costs.

            I couldn’t take it anymore.

            I had to tell him.