Don't call me another man's name
1090 Words
KYLE
She stepped closer, barged into my space, and rested her head against my chest.
“Tessa?” I whispered.
“Take me to the bedroom. Now.” Her hands slowly crawled up to my chest and wrapped around my neck.
“Okay,” I lifted her in my arms, our eyes locked for a second, before I carried her straight to her bed. The second I put her down, the mattress squeezing beneath her soft weight, she grabbed my jacket and pulled me on top of her.
My fingers on either hand tightly fist on the mattress as I watched her underneath me, her chest rising and falling. There was only an inch between our lips.
“What are you doing, glasses?”
She kept her gaze on me, testing the sleeping beast inside me.
Her lips didn't say a word. Instead, her fingers reached for my face, tracing my cheek. I swallowed, positioning myself between our legs. She was only in her lingerie, her cleavage, her belly button, and even the size of her full breasts, was completely exposed.
Her thighs lifted, brushing against mine, and her fingers were still on my cheek. Suddenly, tears rolled down her eyes, sliding to her cheeks. “How could you do this to me?”
“How?” Her voice broke.
“After everything… How could you choose her? Did I mean nothing to you?”
My chest tightened. Her drunk eyes were seeing someone else in me. A man who had abandoned her.
*Could it be that ex-boyfriend?*
“I hate you, Wyatt.”
“I hate you so much!” The softness in her eyes disappeared, replaced by a fiery rage. Without warning, she started punching and scratching my chest aggressively.
“You asshole!”
“How did you get in here!?”
“Glasses, it's me.”
She wouldn't listen. She cursed louder. “Go f**k my so-called best friend. Go away!”
I clutched her wrists above her head with my single hand into a tight grip. “Look at me…” I said, my eyes asking for her submission.
She stopped throwing hands and paused.
“Tessa Vance, I'm not Wyatt.”
“You're not Wyatt…”
As she came to the realization, I slowly freed her hands from my grip. “Now, sleep, okay?”
Just when I moved to the other side, she got out of bed, pulled a chair against the glass window, and perched on it, watching the shimmering moon with lifeless eyes.
I watched her, lying in bed.
She was quiet and glowing in the moonlight like the stars in the dark sky. Her golden hair was tousled down to her waist.
Something about her was different.
She looked broken.
I got out of bed, closing the distance between us again, and sat on the floor below her, leaning my back against the wall.
She didn't sleep a wink.
By the time the stars disappeared from the sky, she had finally drifted off to sleep. Dawn had already broken, and it was nearly six in the morning. I stood, carefully lifted her into my arms, and carried her back to the bed before tucking a blanket around her.
Every inch of me was exhausted. I didn't even realize when I slept beside her.
***
TESSA
I slowly opened my eyes, my head heavy, and sat upright. “Ah! I'm not drinking again.” I literally pulled my hair to ease the pain.
“How did I come back?” My gaze, surprised and confused, roamed around the room, and finally landed on the man next to me, his biceps hiding his face.
“Oh my God!” I was terrified.
“Who is he?”
Then I noticed my body. My clothes were gone, only the lingerie clinging to my body.
“What the heck!? What have you done?”
“Excuse me?” I touched his back with my trembling fingers.
No response.
“Don't tell me he's a male escort or something…” My heart was pounding faster than ever, sounding like a drumbeat to my ears.
He was sleeping so peacefully as if he owned my bed and my bedroom. I touched him again. “Whoever you are, wake up. Please.”
He moved, stretching his arms, and looked into my eyes. My heart dropped.
The pair of striking blue eyes.
“Kyle?” I clutched the sheet tightly.
He sat upright, his eyes looking into mine. “Glasses, you slept at six,” he glanced at the clock on the wall before finding my eyes again. “Now it's eight. Who sleeps for two hours?”
“Why is it you?”
Panic stirred within my chest.
“W-What happened last night?”
The corner of his lips curled. “Do you really wanna know what happened?”
I instantly pulled the white blanket around myself, heat rushing to my face.
“Kyle Maxwell, I was drunk. But you? There’s no way you were drunk enough not to know exactly what you were doing.”
“And what exactly do you think we did?” He was playing with me.
“Get out,” I pointed my finger at the door.
He let out a soft chuckle. “Stop running your head wild, glasses. Nothing happened. And nothing will ever happen.”
A breath slipped free of my lips. “Then why am I like this? Why are you in my bed? Most importantly, why are you even in my house?”
He told me about the embarrassment I caused myself last night. I just wanted to vanish into thin air and never appear before him again.
“S-Sorry. Also, thank you.”
“Oh! You can say thank you?”
“Will you please leave now?”
He got out of bed, approaching the door, and a sense of relief rushed down my veins.
But he didn’t leave. Instead, Kyle turned and walked back toward me.
My breath caught as he stopped beside the bed and leaned down, bracing both palms against the mattress on either side of me. The movement caged me in without touching me.
“I forgot to tell you…” He slightly tilted his head. “You kept calling me Wyatt the whole night.”
The words hung between us like a storm waiting to break. I swallowed but Kyle’s gaze never wavered. Not for a second.
“Don't ever mistake me for a jerk who f***s your so-called best friend.”
- Writer
