Khi grunted and punched harder. “No talking.”
“Nah, if I’m taking punches, I think I get to call the shots.” I held the pads firmer and pushed a little against his hits. “I’m sorry about that day.”
Hit. Khi was breathing hard and his jabs were stronger, his rhythm steady.
“I’d wanted to kiss you since the first day I met you, but figured there was no way you’d ever want the same.”
Hit. Khi’s nostrils flared and I caught a glint of anger in his light eyes from my hiding place behind the foam.
“I was a terrible person back then. I absolutely hate the way I acted. Pretending to be against all things gay was meant to protect myself, but I know I ended up hurting others.”
Hit. Khi continued to pummel the pads.
“There’s no way to change it, but from the day you left and every day since, I’ve worked hard at accepting and loving myself and being good to those around me. I never want to be that nasty kid again.”
Hit. Khi’s glare and the strength behind his punches told me he would rather I dropped the pads and let him land a few on me.
“That kiss was like my biggest fear and wildest dream all coming true at once. When my parents walked around the corner, the dream was ripped away and all my deepest fears attacked.”
Hit. That one nearly knocked me on my ass.
“I never should have reacted the way I did. I made you out to be the bad guy, brought my parents’ wrath down on you in order to tuck myself safely back into my closet and I’m so damn sorry.”
With a growl, Khi closed the distance between us, his arms knocking away the pads before pressing against my chest and backing me into the corner. His hot mouth was on mine before my back even hit the wall. The kiss was hard and fiery, anger and frustration pouring from him as his tongue staked its claim in my mouth.
Helpless to do anything but ride the unexpected wave—consequences be damned—I returned the kiss. Teeth clashed, tongues battled for dominance, and lips slid together in a hot mix of angry lust. Khi’s hips pressed close, his hard cock rubbed mine, evidence that the kiss was affecting him the same as me, and I couldn’t help the moan from deep within.
Whether it was the noise I made, the heat blazing between us, or the sound of laughter in the hallway outside of the gym area, something in Khi clicked and he pushed away from me as if I’d electrocuted him.
“Khi,” I started, my hand coming to touch my lips, as if I needed to prove to myself his mouth had truly just been on mine.
“No,” he bit out. “I told you to keep your mouth shut and you didn’t, so I shut you up.” He was breathing hard, from the workout or the kiss or both, I didn’t know. “That was a mistake. One I swore to myself I’d never make again. You’ve said what you wanted to say, don’t bring it up again. That’s in the past. We’re not those people anymore.” Khi’s jaw clenched. “I’m going to shower. I’ll leave a list of the presentations I’m going to.” He turned his back to me and quickly unwrapped his hands, tossing the cloth into the linen basket before stalking out.
Stunned by the turn of events, I bent to pick up the pads and return them to the hook on the wall. In a daze, I walked toward the elevator as I replayed the kiss over and over in my head. This kiss had been nothing like the hidden, tentative one I’d dared to give Khi all those years ago.
This kiss had been fire—fueled by anger and hate, my bruised lips could attest to that. But there had been an undercurrent of something else.
Don’t go reading something into a kiss. He was pissed and he kissed you to shut you up. That’s all.
Part of me knew that was likely exactly what had happened. All that happened.
The other part of me? The romantic side, the guy who—even though he hated to admit it—was still completely hung up on Khi? Well, that part of me wanted to savor and analyze the brief glimpses of whatever else had been present in that kiss. Sure, there’d been a whole lot of lust mixed with the anger, but there’d been more. A pinch of longing, a dash of regret, a smidge of hope, and a sprinkle of something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
Don’t be a fool. Your little recipe of emotions isn’t going to make anything other than a big ol’ mess.
As I entered our room, I studied the closed bathroom door. I could still taste Khi on my lips and I yearned for more. However, I expected Khi to shut down even more now. I’d be lucky to get a single word from him for the rest of the weekend. No way he’d be willing to continue the conversation or take that kiss further; I’d watched his guard come up the second he broke from my lips.
I moved to the desk chair and sagged into it. What was my next move? Let it go? Pretend I didn’t sense more in that kiss? Go on indefinitely with Khi hating me and the awkward tension growing thick?
I shook my head. No. I’d made up my mind to wear him down before he went and stuck his tongue down my throat. I wasn’t going to stop. And if that meant he needed to take his anger out on my mouth until he’d worked through it, then so be it.
Eight
Khi
Fuck.
What in the ever-loving fuck had I done?
Kissing Dre had been a mistake ten years ago and it was an even bigger mistake now. The way he’d tentatively kissed me all those years ago—proving to me I was right that he’d been interested and awakening a tiny flutter of stupid
