Sparks Reignited

15 | The Revelation

Kyle stands at the entrance, his face stoic and rigid. His hair is slightly wet at its ends, which I assume it's because he took a shower at the gym. As always, he's effortlessly good-looking. Even though he's dressed in just a simple black shirt and jeans, they're enough to flaunt his muscles—the results of his training.

When he spots me, he stares at me for several seconds, taking in my shocked expression and the obvious fear in my eyes.

Why is he here?

Didn't he refuse to come?

We stare at each other and I notice how clenched his jaw is, his eyes swirling with conflicting emotions. The next moment, he rushes towards me and I take a step backwards reflexively, bracing myself for whatever harsh words he's about to hurl at me.

But it soon turns out that I'm wrong.

His arms come around me suddenly and protectively, enveloping me in his towering frame. The fresh scent from his after shower invades my nose with a strong sense of familiarity and momentarily causing me to forget the place we are at. With one hand on my back and the other cradling my head, my pulse races madly.

I think I'm about to get another meltdown for a completely different reason.

"Love," he rasps, using the gentlest tone I've ever heard him use on me. "Are you alright?"

I glance up at him, blink once, then do a double take.

Wait, what did he just call me?

I'm stunned by his change in behavior. I'm trying to collect my thoughts, but his scent is intoxicating and wreaking havoc in my mind.

"Kyle, what are you–"

He cuts me off by pressing me closer to his body, my cheek against the hard planes of his chest. The warmth from his skin seeps through my clothes and into my bones, driving the cold out of my system.

From behind, the cashier lady calls out to us, shooting me a sympathetic look.

"Get her home and make sure she rests, young lad. She looks pretty sick to me. It must be the time of the month or something."

Kyle offers her a nod of appreciation. "I will, thanks."

Without taking his hands off me, he leads me out of the store. Once we're outside, my body stiffens and I lower my head. I know that my stalker is watching our every move closely, but Kyle holds me closer to him and shields me from his view. He glares murderously at the man over my head.

"What're you looking at?"

The man freezes. Realizing that I'm no longer alone, he turns and scampers away for good, disappearing down the street. Once he's gone, Kyle drops his act. He jumps away from me, scowling at his hands as if my touch has burned him.

I break the silence. "Kyle, why are you here—"

"Don't," he cuts me off curtly. He refuses to look at me and glares at the floor instead. Clearly, he's angry with himself for coming here. "Don't say a word, Riley."

I bite my bottom lip, my eyes burning at his revulsion of me. I don't know what I'm expecting. Every time I'm convinced that there's an underlying kindness to his ruthless self, he ruins it all with his brutal words and leaves me doused in cold water.

"Do you really hate me that much?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

I swallow hard, keeping my voice flat and devoid of emotions. His mood swings are driving me up the wall. Nothing that I say or do will assuage his wrath.