KJ's POV
I exit the laundry room and head upstairs to the Sinclair's apartment. I pause at the top of the steps, feeling like a teenager going to meet the parents. I remind myself that Layne is grown and ultimately can do what she wants. But still, I want to talk to Dil. If I was going to start over and do better, it was going to have to start with him.
I check my reflection in my phone camera, making sure I don't look like I just spent the last ten minutes sucking face with his sister.
Once I come to the conclusion that I do look like exactly that, I accept it and approach the door. I'd long ago forfeited my key to the place, so I knock. After a couple minutes the door cracks open, Dil's familiar face peeking through, "What?"
"Can I come in?"
"No," he goes to shut the door, but I wedge my boot toe in, keeping it open. "Dillion."
He opens the door and I enter. I'm shocked at how little the apartment seems to have changed, but in awe of what hasn't. Dil gestures for me to have a seat at the kitchen table, and I oblige.
"You've got a lot of nerve," he states, venom in his tone, "So what? You've come to rub it in my face that you're fucking my sister after I specifically told you to stay away from her?"
"No," I don't take the bait, "I'm here because I'm sorry. And I'm here because I'm in love with your sister. And if that's gonna go anywhere we need to get on the same page."
"Is it going anywhere? Cause last I checked you two prefer to run in circles." he smirks, subtly reminding me of Layne and I's dark and twisted past. You aren't eighteen anymore. He can't chase you off. I snap out of it, taking the low blow in stride.
"I've put Layne through a lot, yes," I pause, "But yes. It's going somewhere."
He nods, then shakes his head, "I was afraid this day would come."
"What?" I ask. Is he crying? I was expecting anger. I was expecting attitude. Tears, though?
"I was afraid the day would come when I'd have to forgive you," he elaborates, "I know that you were a kid when everything went down, but I blamed you anyway. I've spent so much time trying to blame you. Trying to keep you two apart. Trying to make sure she never saw you again. But when Dru rented the house to you and his brother, I knew that I'd have to come clean. It was only a matter of time before everything started coming back to her."
I don't follow. "What are you talking about?"
"I'd have to come clean about the fact that I've never forgiven myself," he can no longer seem to hold back and begins to cry, a full cry consuming his whole body. I watch him fall apart, for a minute before the psychologist in me kicks in. I stand and wrap my arms around him, my mind taken back to when we were something akin to friends.
"Dil, you know its not your fault," I console him, "It's okay."
"I fucked up," he sobs, "I wasn't there for her. I saw the signs and I didn't do anything. I just watched her spiral downward!"
"Hey! I was there too," I remind him, "I was there the entire time and I didn't do shit either but make things worse. But that's because there was nothing we could do, alright? Nothing. It's not your fault. Ssshh. It's not."
I let him cry it out, and when he pulls it together he stand and washes his face at the sink. He turns back to me, and we lock eyes, just staring at each other. When I first saw him, I was struck by his handsomeness. Then I was pulled in by his friendship. I fell out with Layne and I saw a villain in him. Now I see a cousin turned brother turned father, who wanted the best for her. I see a man that couldn't handle everything, and is just now coming to that conclusion.
I wonder what he sees when he looks at me.
He clears his throat, breaking the silence, "I think you're a piece of shit at times," he says, as if reading my mind, "But you're one of the most well meaning pieces of shit I've ever met. I think you're one of the best and worst things to ever happen to her. To me, too."
"I don't want to ever hurt her again," I say, "I love Layne with every bone in my body."
He chuckles, "Good. I don't want her to have anything less."
I stand and we embrace, this time on a new understanding. Layne enters, carrying her laundry, "So what? I let you go two seconds and now you're gay for my brother?"
We pull away from each other and I turn to her, "I'm gayer for you."
She rolls her eyes at my comment, "Really?"
I wink and kiss her lightly on the cheek, "See you tonight."
"Wait," she grips my shirt again, kissing me on the lips this time, taking no care to be gentle. I resist the urge to fall into it as Dil is still in the kitchen, most likely watching his sister assault me.
"God, Layne," I moan quietly as she lightly kisses my neck, "Stop it."
"You can't leave like that again..." she whispers, her breath hot against my ear, "I'm deprived."
"Layne," I glance at Dil, who's pretending not to watch us from the kitchen. But his red cheeks betray him.
She reluctantly obliges, "So.... Tonight?"
I wink again, "Yes ma'am."
***
Layne's POV
In the time between our date I finish all of my laundry and straighten you my room. I shower and get dress in a short, blue, dress, which leaves my midriff exposed. Even without thinking about it, I find myself putting extra effort into my look. I even go as far as to make-up, giving myself a smoky eye look.
"So you two are going out?" Dil peers in. I nod, "Yep."
"Are you two..." he hesitates, "...coming back?"
My face heats and I bite my lip. "Probably," I glance at him in the mirror, glad that he looks just as uncomfortable as I do.
"I'm make myself scarce then," he laughs awkwardly, "Enjoy yourself."
He leaves the room like it's on fire and I close the door behind him, not giving him the option to come back.
KJ comes to get me around seven, showing up in a plain white shirt, and skinny tie, with black ripped jeans. She looks good, down to the classic black hi-top vans. The look is both simple and sexy, and I resist jumping her on sight. She gives me a sinful look, and I can tell she's thinking the same thing.
"Like what you see?" I tease and she snaps out of it.
"Very much," she offers me her hand, "Come on."
I take her hand and we walk down to her awaiting motorcycle. As soon as I see it, I know that she picked it just because she likes the feeling of me grabbing onto her. Not that I'm complaining.
We get on and she drives us to a Korean restaurant, which I've never been to. She orders everything for us, seeming to already know exactly what she wants. While we wait for our food, she turns back to me.
"Hey," she smiles her iconic smile, which sometimes I loved, but sometimes I wanted to just snatch it off of her.
"What's going on, Kaylie Jane?" I ask directly. She's trying, which automatically makes me suspicious. After she cheated on me, she brought me flowers. It's her nature to do pre-preemptive damage control. She's like a kid cleaning the whole house before her parents see the bad grade on her report card.
The waitress brings by a type of alcohol I've never had, and she pours me a cup, then herself one. She takes a drink, then goes back to me, "I love you. But we have too many secrets. So this is us coming clean. I don't want to be with you if there's anymore secrets between us. It's not healthy."
"Okay," I agree, "What do you want to know?"
"What haven't you told me?"
I inhale and exhale. "You don't have my virginity. My sleazy ex from back home does. But you're definitely the only girl I've ever loved. I don't know why I lied about that when we were kids."
"Alright. I can deal with that," she nods, and I can see that she's really forcing herself to be okay with that information.
"Your turn," I prompt her. She snaps out of whatever thought she was having, and begins, "I loved another girl after you. Her name was Issa and we meant in college because we were roommates. Then we were more than roommates."
"What happened to her?"
"She killed herself," she states it so simply its clear that she's either detached from, or still trying to process that grief.
We sit with each other's baggage for a few minutes before I have an odd thought. "You have a really niche type, huh?"
She frowns and then laughs, both of us cracking up.
"Hey, Layne?"
"KJ."
"I'm allergic shrimp."
"I hate dried fruit."
"I love rom-coms."
"I love mysteries."
"I sold weed back in Colorado."
"I smoked weed last week."
"Vinson is the only man I've ever loved."
"I'm strictly pussy. Yours, of course."
"My favorite color isn't even black. It's blue."
"I didn't like the color black till you."
"Wren Davis wasn't even a good lay."
"Neither was my ex."
"You're the closest thing I have to family."
"You're my favorite person in the world."
We stop talking smiling like crazy people. "I love you."
"Will you marry me?"
"What?" my eyes bulge in shock. Marriage? She wants to marry me?
She kneels next to me, "Alayna Grace Sinclair-- I have tried to forget you. Leave you alone. Push you away. Chase you off. And I've done that since we first met. But last week without you was hell. I realized I don't want you going anywhere. I love you," she reaches in her pocket and produces a ring, "Will you let me make you my wife?"