"No." He takes a step back and looks at me for a long moment. "Of course not."
"But you were engaged to her once? You gave her a ring, but not this ring?"
"Yes. We were engaged at one time, but that's not her ring. I couldn't tell you what happened to the ring I gave her because I never asked for it back." He finishes unbuttoning his shirt, tossing it into the hamper, and I'm distracted by the muscles on his back and also by how attractive the proper use of a hamper is.
"Did she insinuate that it was?" he asks, yanking a cotton T-shirt over his head.
"She did, actually. I was fairly certain she was lying but I wanted to ask."
"She was."
"Okay." I move back to my own closet, unsnapping and removing my bra as I walk before digging a T-shirt out of my suitcase to pull over my head. When I turn to face him again he's leaning against the frame of his closet door, staring at me.
"Yours is bigger, by the way."
"My tits? Thank you."
"Your ring," he says with a little shake of his head and a roll of his eyes.
"So what happened? With Margo? And if you say something like 'it's complicated' I'm likely to knee you in the balls."
His brows rise, in surprise I think.
"Oh, sorry," I mumble. "I forgot I'm both cranky and hungry until just now."
We move to the kitchen, Kyle telling me to sit at the island countertop while he makes me a sandwich, which is really nice of him but also I think he might want my knees tucked under the countertop.
"Do I say that a lot? That it's too complicated to explain?"
"You say it all the time."
He's silent for what feels like a really long time, layering turkey and lettuce on slices of bread. "I find it difficult to open up to people," is what he offers when he finally speaks. In reality it's probably been less than a minute, but a minute is a really long time when you're waiting for someone to make you a sandwich. It's like microwave time, it takes forever.
"Because you're rich and everyone wants something from you? Because you're an independent guy conflicted by your need to caretake for others? Because Margo is a cold gnome who broke your heart?"
He looks up, a wry smile on his face. "I thought gnomes were friendly?"
"They probably are, I just felt like it was time to give the trolls a break."
"So what exactly did Margo say to you today?"
"That you recycled her engagement ring and you always go back to her."
He nods, acknowledging my recap as he places one of the sandwiches on a plate and slides it over to me. "She didn't break my heart. We're not together anymore because... I don't like her."
Wow. Way to elaborate, buddy. I take a bite to keep myself busy and give him time to continue. He doesn't, but he's a man so I suspect he thinks that was a suitable explanation.
"Were you together for a long time?"
"On and off."
"My knee is feeling bouncy, Kyle."
He laughs. A big wide smile covers his face and his eyes flash in amusement. Probably because there's at least six feet of countertop separating us.
"Look, I want to be respectful," he says. "To both of you." God, this guy and his honor. "We dated when we were young. High school. It was rocky throughout college. Then I left the country for a number of years. Business school in London followed by some years spent learning the international side of the business. When my parents died and I moved back to Philadelphia to take care of Kerrigan, Margo was just sorta there for me, I guess. I think there was some expectation that we would get back together and we did. For a while."
Oh, God. This is a long-term on-and-off thing. Am I his rebound?
"But it didn't work between us," he continues. "It's been over for a long time."
"Is it really over? I'm not keeping you from her? You wouldn't be going back to her if it wasn't for this baby? Maybe not now, but someday?"
"No. We're through. It's been two years, Daisy. It's over. I knew she still had certain... feelings for me, but I thought she was aware it was irrevocably over."
Okay. But.
"Does she act like this every time you show up with a new woman?"
Kyle looks uncomfortable, as if this is all far too much sharing for his liking. I wonder how he survived raising a teenage girl. I've been a teenage girl and it's nothing but talking about your feelings twenty-four seven.
"There haven't been any new women." He's not looking at me when he says it, putting the sandwich items back into the fridge.
Say what?
"There haven't been any other fiancées, you mean?"
"No, I mean there hasn't been anyone."
Oh. My. God. I cough, making sure I'm not about to choke on my sandwich. Didn't he just say the Margo break-up was two years ago? I am the rebound, but even sloths rebound faster than that.
"Did I seduce you out of some kind of born-again virginity?"
"No." That's it. One word. I bet Kyle has never been accused of too much information once in his entire life.
"Good Lord, no wonder your sperm were so damn eager."
He looks up now and meets my eyes, a smirk on his lips. That fucking smirk. How are women not tripping over themselves to sit on his face?
"So you were on a sex cleanse of some kind? A really, really strict one? You're such an overachiever. I only made it four months on my dick diet before I met you and then poof, diet ruined."
"It wasn't exactly on purpose. Being responsible for Kerrigan made me evaluate the kind of woman I wanted her around. The kind of woman I'd want as the mother of my children. I didn't want to wake up at forty with someone I couldn't stand."
"But now you're stuck with me. All that abstinence and now you're stuck with me."
"I'm not stuck." He meets my eyes when he says it and I swear he's eye-fucking me. My stupid heart leaks like a sieve when he looks at me like that.
"But we're just a fluke," I remind him. "You and me."
"Hmm," he hums softly. "Or maybe the universe sent me exactly who I needed."
Heart. Puddle. Floor.
"Like a reward instead of a consolation prize?"
"Maybe." He says it quietly, his eyes resting on mine for a long, intimate moment.
"Do you like me, Kyle?" I feel like I'm asking a huge question, because I am. Because does he? Does he like me or is this all about image and honor for him? Is it possible that I might have gotten lucky and stumbled into something that could be good for both of us?
"I do."
"You don't really know me though. You might not like me once the novelty wears off."
"I like how little you try to impress me."
"I sound really charming."
"I like the way you stand up for yourself. I like how you want what's best for your sister. I like the way you talk with your hands whenever you're excited or pissed off. I like the way you always hold the door for whoever is behind you."
Okay, wow. He's paying more attention than I thought.
"I like how you charmed my grandmother within five minutes of meeting her. And how happy you made her with your crazy stories."