Kyland (Sign of Love #7) by Mia Sheridan Read Free Book Online

my head, his fingers weaving into my hair.
    "No," I whispered, my body swaying toward him. No, but I wanted to be. Oh God, I wanted to be. I felt practically drunk with expectation. Would he touch me while he kissed me? Would his hands move over my body, under my clothes? A jolt of electricity raced up my thighs and ended between my legs.
    I liked him so much. He was a boy who was sweet, but would take charge. My blood was buzzing, racing through my veins.
    His eyes gazed into mine for several frozen seconds until he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled away from me. I let out a huge breath as I tipped toward him and caught myself, pulling back suddenly, too.
    Kyland stood up and spun away from me, breathing hard. "You shouldn't give your first kiss to me."
    What the . . .?
    I blinked, feeling stunned, almost as if he'd just slapped my face. Humiliation engulfed me. I made a chuffing sound in the back of my throat and wrapped my arms around myself.
    He narrowed his eyes at me. "Why haven't you ever kissed anyone?"
    I shrugged, feeling hot, my skin prickly. I lifted my chin. "Never found anyone I wanted to kiss before," I said, going for nonchalance. But in actuality, it was pretty true.
    "And you want to kiss me?"
    I snorted.
    Conceited asshole.
    So not only was Kyland not going to kiss me—he was going to make me feel embarrassed and inexperienced? This was the exact reason I had sworn off men. "Not anymore." I stood up, grabbing my grocery bags and moving past him. But I was caught up short when he grabbed my hand and tugged. I whirled back around. "Let go of me," I hissed. "You're right. I don't want to kiss you. I'm going to go away to college, and I'm going to let a real man kiss me, not some stupid hillbilly who thinks his lips are God's gift to Kentucky girls."
    Kyland let go of my hand, looking truly insulted. "That's not what I think."
    I made a sound of disgust and kept walking. I felt flushed all over and I was shaking, trying in vain to dismiss my deep sense of hurt and disappointment. "Well good, you shouldn't. You don't have anything every other man doesn't have, too, Kyland Barrett," I called, and raced back toward the road and fast-walked all the way home. I had no idea if Kyland followed me or not and I told myself I didn't care.

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    Tenleigh
     
    The following week, on a blustery Sunday, I walked with Marlo down the hill. She was headed to work and I was headed to the Dennville Library.
    "Don't stay long, okay?" Marlo said as we prepared to part ways.
    "I won't. I just need a few new books." We tried our very best not to ever leave our mama alone for long in the trailer. Not that she would do something rash if she were taking her medication properly. But it was difficult to know if she was—we couldn't exactly force it down her throat, and counting pills hadn't worked. She knew well enough to hide the ones she wasn't taking if she decided to go off her medication. But either way, our mama was what I guess you would call delicate . If she wasn’t sleeping, she didn't care for being alone. Frankly, it was exhausting, but it was the hand we'd been dealt, and we did what we had to because we had no other choice.
    I often wondered what it was like to have parents that cared for you , rather than the other way around.
    As we stepped onto Main Street sidewalk, a man looking down at the phone in his hands was walking toward us. "Oh God, turn away!" Marlo hissed.
    "Huh?"
    Suddenly the man looked up. "I'm so sorry," he said, brushing my shoulder and taking a big step to the left. "Oh, hey. Tenleigh, right?"
    I swore I heard Marlo let out a small exasperated groan. "Yeah. Hi, Dr. Nolan?" I glanced at Marlo and she had a small, phony smile on her face. I hadn't met Dr. Nolan before, but I had seen him and I knew he was a dentist who had set up a practice in Evansly. Apparently, he was here to save the Mountain Dew mouths of Appalachia—a valiant intention, maybe he could brighten a few smiles. I couldn't