Make Me (7 page)

Kyle hadn’t touched him again after that; he’d transferred to another bunk for the last month of their tour and even switched gunner teams with the major’s blessing.

He’d broken up with Manny, just like that. But best friends don’t break up. That was something lovers did. So what did that make them? Both? Neither now?

Manny turned the music up and prayed for an alien ship to abduct him and perform a mind meld, erasing the last six months from his memory.

“Manny, is that really you?”

Three sharp knocks roused Manny from his thoughts, and his eyes bolted opened to see Olivia Hunter waving at him to come out of the chopper.

Arguing with Kyle’s mother was futile, even Manny knew that. He straightened his shirt as he exited the helicopter, knowing that she’d do it for him if he didn’t. “Hello, Mrs. Hunter.”

“It’s great to see you! If I’d have known you’d flown up with Kyle I would have come out to get you earlier.” She managed to find something wrong with his collar and dusted it flat. “And what’s with this Mrs. Hunter business? Hmm?”

Manny’s gaze cut toward Kyle. Things were different now. The Hunter family circle was a fortress of loyalty, and Manny stood on the other side of the border. It suited him fine. Much safer that way.

Olivia seemed undaunted by his silence. “You haven’t been to visit since you’ve been back.” A perfectly manicured finger pointed at him. “I will have to insist that you come to my garden party next Saturday. You’ll stay for the weekend. I’ve just
got
to have my two most favorite Marines there.” She smiled at Kyle, who shrugged sheepishly at Manny, who smelled a photo op a mile away.

“Oh yes,” one of the important-looking men said. “That would be perfect. Manny, you’ll be there won’t you?”

Kyle looked conflicted. Manny felt sick. Olivia Hunter looked desperate not to be embarrassed.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t make me haunt you,” Olivia said with a lilting chuckle. Everyone present had to know she wasn’t joking.

“Mom, Manny can’t make it.”

Oh, now this was interesting. The moment Kyle tried to speak for Manny, he suddenly wanted to speak for himself. He narrowed his eyes on Kyle before managing to flash Olivia the barest of smiles. “You know what? Sure, why not? Your parties over break were always a blast, Olivia. I’d love to come.”

“Ah, Manny, you’ve made an old woman happy.” Olivia’s eyes twinkled. “Arrive at two. There will be lots of other servicemen there, but it will be extra special to have my son’s wingman in attendance.”

“He was my gunner copilot, Mom.”

“Yes, yes. I know.” She patted Kyle’s cheek, before turning to the two other men next to him. “Well, this was a very productive meeting. I am so glad I can count on you gentlemen to back me once again.”

“You have our support, as always, Olivia. Just keep your eye on the target.”

Her response came in the firm, confident voice that had put her at the doorstep of greatness. “Without fail.”

* * *

Manny completed his flight journal and watched Kyle say his good-byes to the two moneymen. He’d like to have been able to walk past him with the same cordial—if not complacent—manner. A simple good-bye. It had cut him open, deep and wide, the last time those words passed between them. Only Kyle showing back up in Manny’s life felt more like a hello, tearing at the scab that hadn’t yet healed enough to fall away on its own.

They were alone, a risky thing when Manny wasn’t sure whether he wanted to kiss Kyle or deck him. He sighed, edging his way close enough to talk, but not close enough to touch. “So what gives?”

“Listen, I was all kinds of fucked up for telling you we couldn’t see each other anymore.” Kyle had finally dropped the prep school, officer-and-a-gentleman act he’d perfected out of sheer obligation. “I mean ten years—that’s how long we’ve been friends. You don’t just throw that away.”

“I didn’t, remember?”

“I know. I’m sorry man. I freaked. My mom could be running for president next year.” Kyle shrugged as he seemed to search for more words. “I…I…”

“I get it.”

“No, don’t. Don’t let me off the hook.”

Manny felt the lump in his throat get bigger. He watched, stunned, as Kyle closed in.

“I miss you.”

Manny shrugged, his smirk all bravado. “It’s only been two months.”

“Too long,” Kyle said and reached forward, hooking his finger in Manny’s belt loop.

Manny froze where he stood, bracing himself. Against what? There was plenty to be afraid of. Like the gash tearing open in his chest. “Long enough to be pronounced New York’s most eligible bachelor.”

“That was just something my mom’s campaign cooked up. It means nothing.” Kyle kissed him on the cheek. A simple press of his lips that was more tender, more heart-wrenching than it would have been to have Kyle’s lips wrapped around Manny’s cock. But then Kyle pulled back, searching Manny’s eyes. What would he find there? Hurt? Need?
Desperation?

Vibrations rumbled in his pocket—Manny’s phone announcing a call. He checked the screen. Mystery Girl. And a smile bloomed across his face before he’d even answered.

“Hey.”

“I bought tartar sauce. Oh, and I got your extra key made.”

Manny felt something warm wash over him with the sound of her voice. “Yeah? Good. I’ll be home soon.”

“With trout?”

“Going to try. Just wrapping up with an old friend.” He eyed Kyle. “Shouldn’t be long.”

Rebecca paused. “Wait, I don’t want you to go out of your way. I can…you know…get some Chinese or something.”

Kyle draped his gaze all over him, his blue eyes inquisitive. Manny turned away, keeping his voice light and easy. “No, no. I want to cook. You haven’t lived until you’ve had my mother’s baked trout.”

“Anything I can do?”

“Just be hungry when I get home.”

“No worries. I think I have that covered.” She giggled, and Manny realized he could come to adore that sound. “See you later.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Kyle was still staring at him when he turned around. “Who was that?”

Manny sniffed. “Hmm? Oh, I met someone.” Why not leave it at that and let Kyle fill in the blanks for himself? He didn’t owe him an explanation. Kyle had made it perfectly clear that they didn’t owe each other anything when he shut Manny out of his life. Now here he was, standing in front of him, appraising his every move. He
had
just met Rebecca Sinclair. But the last day and a half had been better than any he could recall in a long while.

Kyle took a step in his direction, and Manny headed for the door before those addictive lips found their way back to him. He trained his voice to sound unaffected. “See you when I see you, I guess.”

Kyle grabbed his arm. “I’m sorry. If I could go back…Can’t we be friends again, at least? Dude, we have too much history.”

It was true. Manny and Kyle had plenty of history; memories of all sorts flooded his mind. His best friend had seen him at his worst, at his best, at his happiest. He’d also seen him through agony and then put him there himself with a few simple words.

“I can’t.” The choke in Manny’s voice was entirely unwelcome. “Gotta go.”

“The fundraiser?” Kyle asked.

Shit, he’d already forgotten about that. “I don’t know.”

“My mom will actually haunt you about it. She’ll probably send over secret service to come and drag you there by force.”

Manny couldn’t help but smile. “She’d probably love it if I showed up in fatigues.”

“You know her as well as I do.” They shared a chuckle. “So?”

Manny scraped his bottom lip with his teeth, still making up his mind.

“Bring the new guy. I want to meet him.”

“Woman. Her name is Rebecca.”

Kyle raised his eyebrows. “Switching sides again, huh?”

Manny shrugged. “I like to keep my options open. Anyway she’s great, and she’s waiting for me.” He made for the door, holding it open for Kyle expectantly.

They walked out together, but Manny took a sharp turn away from Kyle and the driver waiting with the BMW 7-series sedan.

“Remember, two o’clock,” Kyle called after him.

Manny lifted a hand in his direction in half a wave, beginning to jog in the direction of the subway station.

An hour later with an armful of groceries, Manny knocked on his own door. The delicate face that greeted him was a welcome sight. He grinned at her. “Hope you’re ready to have your mind blown.”

Rebecca was definitely ready for something. “Are you always so sure of yourself?”

“No, not always.” Then with a dip of his head and the sexiest twist of his lip, he continued. “But this right here is something I know won’t disappoint.” He pulled a whole fish, head and all, from one of the bags. “Nice, huh?”

She nodded. But he wasn’t looking at the fish. He was looking at her.

“Get much done at your office?” he asked, placing the bags on the counter and then washing his hands.

The interest he took wasn’t lost on her. Surprisingly, the idea of confiding in him didn’t make her shudder. “I’ve been transferred. Not even sure what my job is now.”

He frowned. “Boy, I thought I had a shitty day.”

Rebecca waited for him to share, but the moment passed.

“I bought some beer. Feel like taking the edge off?” He pulled a longneck out of the bag, and she took it gratefully.

“I want to help.”

“No need. Just sit right there and look pretty.”

Boy, he was laying it on thick, but she’d be lying to say she wasn’t happy to soak it all in. He chopped parsley and garlic along with onions and red peppers. Rebecca watched in awe of his effortless skill.

“Music?” she asked, rising from her chair and grabbing her iPod from her purse. He nodded and used the knife to point at the docking station by the TV. What suited the mood? Nothing too slow or romantic; that was just too damn obvious. Nothing too fast or too hard; not the time for the club mix she used to push out the last two miles on the treadmill. She settled on a song that spelled out her mind-set perfectly.
Don’t know why I didn’t come…

Manny looked at her quizzically, intrigue played out in his expression. “Interesting selection.”

She scrolled through her playlist. “I could find something else if you want.”

“No, it’s kind of perfect.” He shook his head at some internal humor. “Got to love a song about not doing the things you know you should for the person you claim to love.”

She smiled at his perceptiveness. “Regret is something most people know about.”

“You?”

Rebecca kind of regretted that he still had on his shirt. Norah Jones kept on singing.
Don’t know why…
“No more than anyone else, I suppose.” No less either.

There were plenty of things Rebecca wished she’d been brave enough to try. Moving to New York on her own was supposed to be a new adventure, and it had been, professionally at least. The rest of her hopes and dreams sat at the bottom of her underwear drawer.

Manny put the dish in the oven and came around to the futon, kicking up his feet, looking intrigued.

Rebecca sat down next to him, with a surprising urge to share. “I’ve been trying to live more in the moment, though. Things can change suddenly, the things you enjoy. Opportunities…they can vanish at any moment. I think I’ve had a lesson in that firsthand these last twenty-four hours.”

Manny’s voice was soft, low. “Remember, you can stay here…”

“I know, ‘as long as I need.’ Thank y—”

He connected with her lightning fast, but his lips then lingered with a slow, steady caress that turned her blood into a gaseous state. It was as if she’d floated away, that kiss taking her to a place where her heart knew it belonged.

Manny nibbled her bottom lip, and his warm breath tickled her. “I told you, no more ‘thank-yous.’”

She grabbed him then, two big fistfuls of his shirt. No regrets. Soon she’d find a place of her own, and she knew that if she didn’t take this opportunity there wasn’t a chance in hell she’d forgive herself. She had to find out where the sparks between them might lead. Had anything ever made her feel so alive? The answer was suddenly very simple: no.

She curled her toes in her newly retrieved ballet flats. This
meant
something. You don’t walk away from anything that feels so perfect.

Manny took her lead and ran with it, all the way to the top of the Veritage building it seemed, because Rebecca could have sworn that kiss was giving her an out-of-body experience. Then he pushed back, breathing hard, looking…looking…she wasn’t sure.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

He didn’t look sorry, nor did he feel sorry in the way his hand stroked at her hip, his fingers burning hot over the waistband of her washed-linen shorts and under the peasant blouse she’d thought right for a cozy fish dinner at home.

His home.

“Oh fuck. This complicates things, doesn’t it?”

He sighed. “Complicated doesn’t even start to describe it.”

Rebecca felt her blood rush to her face. “I can’t believe I grabbed you. Guess you’re wondering just how red my face can get.” She laughed nervously, trying desperately not to sound torn apart.

Manny didn’t laugh, not with her, not at her, not at all. He gave her a solemn shake of his head. “No, I’m thinking that you’re too special and I’m just getting over my last…I don’t even know what you call it. Anyway, you don’t deserve to get tangled in my fucked-up relationship issues.” He swallowed hard and stood up. “I’m really sorry I kissed you.”

Rebecca felt her heart hit the floor. Whereas she’d been floating moments ago, now she might as well dig a hole and stick her head inside. She stared at the beige, nondescript rug without a clue as to the best comeback to that bit of crushing news.

Then there he was again, next to her on the futon and raising her chin toward him, his thumb brushing softly at her jaw. “No, that’s wrong. I’m not sorry I kissed you. Not at all.”

His touch was a fucking neurological phenomenon. The tortured look in his almond-shaped eyes, a mind-scrambling beacon. All Rebecca wanted to do was be with this man. If he made her into mush just by looking at her then…my God.