His shoulders rolled in a lazy shrug. “It’s just not you, and don’t take offense to that. I like that you’re not like that. You’re not a party girl, and that’s okay.”

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. He liked that I wasn’t a party girl? But every girl he dated—and the word “dated” was used loosely—was a total party girl. My brain started to obsessively break down his words. What could he mean by that? It didn’t make sense.

I was already annoyed with myself within a minute of him saying that.

Holding the bottle to my chest, I watched him pull out the guitar. Several candles had been lit throughout the room, casting soft shadows as soon as night had fallen. Pushing the air-dried hair back from my face, I averted my gaze when his eyes found mine, his fingers messing with the tuning pegs. I went over to our bed and sat, wishing I’d had the forethought to bring along some good old-fashioned paperbacks.

But a few moments later Kyler started to play the guitar, and I wasn’t thinking about books anymore. Twisting toward him, I was lulled into fixated silence. This wasn’t a song I recognized, possibly something unique and original.

His long fingers slipped over the chords with a skilled ease I was envious of. The way he played was captivating, the lifting tune enthralling. As he played, a lock of brown hair fell over his forehead and those thick, impossibly long lashes fanned the tips of his cheekbones.

When he stopped, he lifted his chin and his eyes met mine. My throat felt too thick to speak, but I couldn’t look away. So much stretched out before us in the silence—words better left unsaid and truths that should’ve never been spoken.

Kyler put the guitar aside and reached over, picking up the bottle he had placed beside him. Only then did he look away, as he took a drink. Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly. I wasn’t sleepy. Actually, the exact opposite, but I wished I were. I sipped the beer, hoping it would knock me out. And that was the strangest damn thing. As much as I wanted to just go to sleep to avoid saying or doing something stupid, I didn’t want to miss any time with him.

And then he spoke. “I shouldn’t have given in.”

Kyler

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I didn’t regret it, though, because it needed to be said. I shouldn’t have done what I did in the sunroom, treating her no better than some random chick getting a quickie against the wall.

Syd was better than that and she deserved more. And even though quick hookups were all I’d ever been capable of, I would’ve given her more if she had wanted that.