Club Merge (Merge #1-3) by Kylie Kent

Author:Kylie Kent [Kent, Kylie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: McCartney Industries Pty Ltd.
Published: 2022-01-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

REILLY

SITTING in the passenger side of Bray’s car is unnerving. I can smell him everywhere. He’s so close I could easily reach over and touch him. Boy, do I want to touch him, all over. I want to slide my hands, my tongue, all over the grooves of his body.

As much as I want to touch him, kiss him and do much more dirtier things to him and with him, I can’t. At least not right now. I need to figure out how I am going to get to the cemetery to visit with Dylan. I could get an Uber after I get Bray to drop me home, but that will not leave me with any time to get ready for that stupid double date tonight.

Bray reaches over and grabs hold of my hand. Momentarily, I consider shaking his hold off and removing my hand from his. As I’m staring down at our joined hands, contemplating the mixed feelings I am fighting at the moment, Bray’s voice breaks through my fog.

“Babe, I can hear you thinking. What’s wrong?” he questions. How is he so intuitive to my mind? I’m leaning more and more towards some kind of witchery shit going on. I’ve never met a guy who can read me so well, other than my dad.

I debate what to tell him. Can I ask him to drop me at the cemetery? Then I will have to answer all the usual questions and tell him about Dylan. I’m not sure I’m ready for that conversation. The other option is pulling out of this double date with Holly and letting her down, which I just can’t do. She hardly ever dates so it’s a big deal for her to put herself out there, even if I think the guy is a douchebag. I don’t have to like him.

“Do you think you can drop me at the cemetery? I have to do something there. I’ll get Holly to come and pick me up from there.” I ask him so fast that I don’t even know if it’s possible to understand the gibberish that just came out of my mouth.

He squeezes my hand; it’s so comforting and reassuring and foreign. I should not be comforted by him. I should not want to be comforted by him, yet I do.

“Sure, which cemetery do you need to go to?” he asks. “Uh, the Rockwood one?” Why that came out as a

question, I have no freaking idea. “Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yep, I’m sure. The Rockwood. Thank you.” “No problem.” He leaves it at that.

I don’t get it. Where is the barrage of questions? The why do you want to go there? And the who died? Or the usual awkward silences and the I’m sorry when people find out I had a brother who died way too young.

But Bray didn’t even show any kind of emotion or questioning when I asked about going to the cemetery. It’s as if I asked him to drive through McDonald’s for a Big Mac.

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