Second Chances [On Hold]

Chapter 14

“Kylie! I know you’re there.” I held my breath, making no sudden movements. Maybe if I don’t answer him he’ll go away? I just have to quietly sneak—“Open up!” he hollered, practically punching my front door with his rapid knocking. “Skylar, don’t make me break down this door.”

         My eyes widened when I heard my full name coming out of his mouth. Shit. He really does mean business this time. I haven’t heard my full name coming out of his mouth since I’d first met him, back when we were little.  When he had given me that nickname. 

         “Come on! I need to talk to you about this manuscript.” I shut my eyes, cursing silently under my breath. Great. So he does know. Honestly, I was hoping it was just some weird coincidence. Curse my damn luck. “I already have the outline done,” he spoke again. “I just need to go over it with you.” I bit my lip, staying rooted towards the ground. He could’ve freaking called me if he wanted that done. Crap. That’s probably why he’d called earlier . . .  “Damn it, Skylar! I’m giving you thirty seconds before I kick this door down.”

         I rolled my eyes. Like hell he is. “Thirty. Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight. Twenty-seven—” I drowned out the rest of his counting, humming softly to myself. Once he got to one, I watched as his voice got quiet, before I heard footsteps clicking away. I smirked, knowing he’d given up. What a—My thoughts were interrupted when a loud boom was heard near my front door. Followed by another and another.

         “Fucking bastard!” I shouted, throwing all rational thoughts aside. Marching towards my door, I made sure he heard my loud stomping before I ripped the door open angrily. I cut my eyes at him, giving him the nastiest glare I could mustered up. “Just what in the world are you doing!?”

         He smirked, flipping his stupid brown hair. “Nothing.”

         “Bull,” I snapped, pointing at the door. “You do know I’m going to have to pay for your damages, right!?”

         He shrugged his shoulders, lifting his hands up. “Well, it’s a good thing nothing was damaged right?”

         I puffed my cheeks out, annoyed, ready to punch the idiot in the face. “Whatever,” I spat, slamming the door shut with all my might. Just when I thought I was home-free, the door swung back open. I let out a loud groan when I realized it got caught on his feet. Holding the edge of the door open, he leaned his head in.

         “Nice try.” He laughed, waltzing his way into my apartment, looking like he owned the damn place. “So, how about that outline?”

         “Just leave the outline on my desk, and go,” I ordered, pointing at the door. “If I have any questions, I’ll email you.”

         He paused, scanning my living room. When he deemed my living arrangements decent enough, he eyed me. “Or, we could go over it now and save ourselves the trouble.”

         “Trust me,” I said through gritted teeth, “it's no trouble at all.”

         He gave out a loud sigh before running his hand through his hair, messing his part up even more. When his blueish-green eyes looked down at me, they looked somehow vulnerable—almost like he was begging me to let him stay.

         “Kylie, can’t we talk about this?”

         I ignored the weird feeling in the pit of my gut. “Talk about what?”