Page 12 of Sweet Girl
My head snaps toward her, the guilt probably written all over my face, wondering if she can read the dirty thoughts that have been running through my head the past two hours.
When I notice her curious stare, I realize she’s asking me about how I enjoyed the movie. That makes more sense than her potential mind-reading capabilities. We’re walking out of the theater and over to the food court in the mall, since we both decided the large popcorn she’d purchased didn’t cut it for dinner. Nothing wrong with grabbing a bite to eat with your friend, right? Absolutely not.
“Oh,” I stammer, trying to recall what the movie was even about. “It was good. Action-packed. I liked it.”
Kylah laughs, her giggle doing something to my insides. Twisting my stomach up in knots that feel like the display in the Auntie Annie’s shop we just passed.
“I really like the character Tony Stark,” she admits with a shy grin. “He’s so full of himself, but he has a right to be. The guy’s a genius and engineered this super cool weapon to help protect human kind.”
I give her a thoughtful nod, a smile cropping up at the corners of my mouth. “Sounds awfully familiar, Miss Scientist.” I playfully bump her shoulder with my arm and I’m once again startled by the current that jolts through me from the touch of her skin. I clear my throat. “Isn’t that what you and brother want to do? Find meaningful ways to save lives, either through medical science or mechanically engineered efforts?”
Kylah turns her head away from me, but not before I see the blush that’s creeped up along her neck and cheeks. When she turns her head back to me, she’s chewing on her bottom lip. To my knowledge, it’s not meant to be seductive or coy, but it’s turning me the fuck on. Her lips are nearly as plump and perfect as Scarlett Johansson’s from theAvengers.
In fact, now that I compare the two, she could easily be compared to Scarlett. Kylah has this sweet seductive quality – kind of sex kittenish. Yet she doesn’t know it or flaunt it. It’s just part of who she is. It’s a natural beauty that is sexy as fuck.
She shrugs one shoulder, lifting her bluish-green eyes to me. Her medium-length bob is styled tonight in a wavy-do, and it covers her cheeks. Without thinking it through, my hand brushes the wisps of hair away on one side, pinning it behind her ear. Those innocent eyes grow wide as the ocean and she smiles.
My heart stops. If I was walking, instead of standing at the moment, I would have tripped and fallen on my ass from the detonating power her smile has on me.
It’s then that I realize something different about her tonight.
“Hey, you’re not wearing your glasses.” Yeah, just call me Mr. Observant. Maybe if my eyes hadn’t been glued to her legs or her boobs earlier, I would have noticed sooner.
Kylah’s hands touch the sides of her temples, like she just realized the same thing. Her smile turns shy as she squints up at me, her long lashes fluttering.
“Oh, yeah. I decided to wear my contacts. I usually don’t take the time to put them in, but I didn’t want the glare that can happen when I watch a movie on the big screen.”
I consider this for a second before I respond.
“That makes sense. Well, it’s the first time I’ve actually noticed your eye color. You have really pretty eyes.”
And she does. They look like that beautiful sea green glass of the Caribbean waters. Or a mountain lake reflecting the forest green of the Evergreens around it. Tranquil. Calm.
She blushes. “Thank you.”
“Do you and your sister look identical? Can people tell you apart?”
“Most people can’t tell us apart until they get to know us. Our eye color is different. Hers are deep blue. But as we’ve gotten older, she’s changed her looks and style a lot more than I have.” She shakes her head in amusement.
“What do you mean, her style?”
She lets out a deep breath, as if she’s always trying to explain this to someone. “Kady’s a very colorful person, to say the least. Ever since we were old enough to dress ourselves – maybe three years old? She just liked to make a statement. I can’t say that I blame her. Being a part of a pair is hard and it’s difficult to separate ourselves from people always associating us together. And now that she’s on her own and away in college,” she laughs, reaching for a strand of her hair and looping it around her finger.
“When she left for school, she had long hair dyed pink on the ends. But when we Skyped last week, she’d shaved the sides of her head and the hair is now blue. I wouldn’t be surprised to find her with a Mohawk when I see her over Thanksgiving break.”
I’m a little shocked. I get that crazy-colored hair is all the rage now with both guys and girls, but I don’t get why people mess with it. I kind of like the classic looks. Like on Kylah. She could easily be described as a classic beauty. Her style is simple, yet classy.
“Wow. That is really...unique.”
“What about your family? Didn’t you say you have a brother? Do you look like him?”
I open the door to the Paradise Bakery Café, allowing her to step in front of me, and give myself a second to consider my response, while also doing a quick perusal to admire her ass.
Had Dougie, my older brother, not been born with a debilitating condition, we probably would look a lot more alike. We share the same hair color – deep chocolate – and dark gray eyes. But’s that where our similarities end.
“Um,” I clear my throat. This is the part I always hate when I have to tell someone new about my brother. Not that I mind, but it’s the reaction I get when I do. Pity. My family, and especially Dougie, is not to be pitied. He’s an amazing guy, with the biggest heart of anyone I know.
“In some ways we do. Except in one pretty obvious way.”
