Page 44 of The Pursuit of Happiness

He meets my eyes as he drops the streak of hair and tucks it behind my ear, showcasing my most likely very puffy face. “How could your father have left such an amazing human behind? And how could your mother not want to be close to you? You have this gravitational pull that just sucks people into your orbit, Kane. I can’t see how anyone wouldn’t want to be in it.”

I feel my cheeks turn red. This man has the ability to make me feel things I’ve never imagined possible. He’s so caring andgenuine and protective. He quite literally nearly killed someone for speaking poorly of me today. He must see the adoration and affection for him in my eyes because he lowers his face, claiming my lips with his.

He kisses me slowly, passionately as if he’s waiting for me to pull away and break the kiss like I have every other time we’ve crossed that line. I fist the fabric of his t-shirt in my hands and know what we’re doing is wrong. We’re wandering into that dangerous territory again.

Every moment I share with Sly is perfect, but what comes with it isn’t. The constant scrutiny, the hate, the allegations, all of it. It’s like gaining something only to have ten things taken from you in return. I want Sly. I want him so badly and I know he wants me too, but he can’t possibly begin to understand what this means for me if we go there. He saw a small glimpse of it today and he hated it. I’m sure if we ventured further it would only make things worse.

As his tongue finds mine, I groan into his mouth and break the kiss, pushing away from him. He gives me a disbelieving look and shakes his head in blatant disappointment.

“We can’t go there, Sly,” I lament.

He shakes his head, an apathetic laugh escaping his lips, “You always say that, but you never say why.”

I wave my arms around to dramatize my point, “Are you forgetting what happened earlier tonight?”

“The pap? He got what was coming to him. What does that have to do with this? Withus?” He asks, the pain in his voice clear.

I groan, throwing my head back, “Everything, Sly. It has everything to do with us, with why we can’t be together.”

He takes a step towards me and I take a step back in return, “Stop.” I hold a hand up to stop him and he obeys, “Sly, if our business relationship is gonna work, we can’t keep slipping.” Myvoice splits on the sentence. “I love being your friend. Why can’t we just stay friends?”

Sly rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms, “I can’t just turn my feelings off.”

I can’t either. I want to say that, but I don’t. Instead I say, “You have to try.”

He pauses before reluctantly nodding. “If you don’t feel the same, then fine. We can stay friends.”

I do feel the same. That’s what makes being his friend so hard. But what’s harder is what comes with giving in to my desires. If I give in, the floodgates open and the world can say and do whatever it wants to me. I’m not willing to endure that. Not even for Sly.

I nod, “Friends.” I want to vomit, that’s how much the words taste bitter and sour in my mouth, but I don’t. “I should go home. I don’t want to make this any more uncomfortable than it already is.”

He shakes his head, an exhausted look on his face. “You can stay the night. It’s late.”

I feel that swarm of butterflies going crazy again. Sly just asked me to sleepover. “It’s okay, I-”

“Aria, shut up and sleepover. I promise nothing is going to happen,” he refers to our previous slip up and new set of boundaries outlined in thick red lines.

I cross my arms over my chest, “I don’t know if a sleepover is the best idea after that.”

“I have guest rooms. I don’t want you on the road this late at night,” he nods towards the stairs with his chin and starts walking, a silent command for me to follow.

I hesitate as I watch him ascend the staircase and feel a tug of war within myself. It is late to go home. Besides, if I go home now, I most likely won’t sleep. I’m still anxious over what occurred outside the club. I throw caution to the wind at thatmoment and start following him up the stairs.

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I SMOOTH THE WRINKLESout of the white t-shirt I borrowed from Sly. He lent me a pair of his boxers which were huge on me, but I made it work. He set me up in a guest room and left me to it. I walk over to the bed and pull back the comforter, climbing under the sheets and laying my head down on the perfectly cushioned pillow.

The door cracks open a moment later and Sly’s head peeks in to check on me. “Everything okay? Do you need anything?”

You. I think to myself. “No, I’m okay. Thank you.”

He nods and gives me a small smile, “Goodnight, Kane.”

“Goodnight, Sly,” I smile back.

He moves to leave, but I suddenly jolt, “Sly? Wait.”

He comes back into view, a worried look on his face, “What’s wrong?”

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