How it was like some crazy, wicked roller coaster. You’re climbing the tracks, hoping for a decent thrill, when suddenly the bottom drops out, and you’re crashing headlong into the most electrifying ride of your life.
But kissing Andrew was like grabbing on to a fizzling sparkler on the Fourth of July. And making out with Kai inspired the awe of the grand fucking finale. Opulent and exhilarating and wholly captivating.
I wasn’t sure if any guy would ever measure up to his charm, his glow, his magnetism. His dirty mouth. And truth be told, I no longer felt like finding out. I was done dealing with my problems this way. It was useless and dumb and only reminded me of what I was missing.
Before I could fully reason my way through my map of emotions, Kai came bursting through the door, shutting it closed behind him.
He stared at me, his breathing broken and heavy in the enclosed space. How someone could be so beautiful and self-possessed was a mystery. His dark hair hanging loose. His tight black pants and gray high-top Vans. It was almost painful to look at him.
“Rachel, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “I only made up my mind to go back to Amsterdam today.”
“No problem,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m not your keeper. You don’t need to run your decisions by me.”
“True. You’re not,” he huffed out. “But you are my friend. My best friend.”
My chest constricted agonizingly. I wanted to reach out to him. To erase this invisible wall between us. Remove my desire to touch him, kiss him, and taste him. I could see it in his eyes, too. Desire, flanked by awkwardness and hurt. Being together had fucked our friendship up royally.
He may have enjoyed our sexual relationship, but we both knew that Kai belonged to no one, least of all to me. So the most I could’ve hoped for was to hear him say those words. His plea for my friendship.
“Yeah, well,” I said finally. “It hasn’t felt that way lately.”
“I know.” He stepped forward, and I held my breath. “It’s been so messed up between us. I’m so sorry. Had I really thought it all through—that I might lose your friendship . . .”
What he wasn’t saying was that he wouldn’t have been intimate with me. And that hurt, even though it did sound mature. Because I’d prayed for him to want me—the whole package—all of me. And now he was leaving again and I wouldn’t be able even to hug him for a long time. Maybe ever. Not like that, anyway.
“I’m not going to apologize for any of it, though. It happened. It is what it is.” His fingers slipped a piece of my hair behind my ear. “But the truth of the matter is that I . . . I miss you, Turtle.”
I shuddered at his touch. His lips moved closer to my ear. “So much.”
I closed my eyes. “Me, too.”
He pulled me into a tight hug, and I reveled in his touch, being tucked inside his warm arms. Smelling his spicy scent, feeling his soft hair against my cheek while his fingers touched my back.
“This summer showed me how much I value your friendship,” he said into my hair. “And I don’t know what’s going to happen when I leave the country and you return to school.”
He tugged me flush against him. “But I don’t want to lose you again, Rachel.”
“We didn’t lose each other,” I said. “I just lost myself. And that’s not going to happen again.”
“It’s not?” He pulled back to look at me. “What about with this new guy, Andy?”
I jabbed him playfully. “You know his name is Andrew. And I don’t know. He’s nice.”
“He seems like a good guy.” He sighed. I wanted him to be angry, possessive, claim me as his own, but that had all been just a pipe dream. “I just want you to be happy.”
I nodded, feeling the sting of tears at the backs of my eyes. If he only knew what would truly make me happy.
“I just want you to promise me, Rachel,” he said.
“Promise you what?”
“That we won’t lose each other . . . ditch each other.”
He was bouncing my words back at me.
“Because no matter how you spin it,” he said, cupping my cheeks. “You left, too.”
He yanked his phone out of his pocket and began typing something. I wondered what in the hell he was doing until I heard my cell buzz with a text.
I pulled it out of my purse and read his message.
Let’s start keeping in touch now. Texts will be the easiest way, Turtle.
I nodded, and then we heard the knob jiggle and backed farther away from each other. As if we’d been caught doing something wrong. When for the first time, the only thing we were doing was being friends.
I lifted up the cheese tray, handed Kai a bottle of wine, and turned toward the door.
Dakota stepped inside the room. “Your mom sent me back here. What the hell is taking you so long?”
“Tone it down, Dakota,” Kai said, strolling around her and out the door.
I just shrugged and handed her another bottle of wine.
Chapter Thirty-four Kai
I was leaving in the morning and my heart—my soul—was heavy. My bones weary, as if I was just going through the motions. Even though I was looking forward to getting back into the studio, I wasn’t as thrilled about returning to the country where I’d felt so unsure of myself, lost about so many things.
But I told myself it was a step in the right direction—that I hadn’t figured things out all summer long and this would at least help keep me focused on my future.
As soon as I made the decision, the days flew by. I made preparations for travel and finished my shifts at the casino. I wanted to show my parents how sincere I’d been about being responsible and finishing my degree. Maybe I’d come back in a year and feel surer, more settled.
Maybe I’d be over her once and for all.
Since our talk at the Pure grand opening, Rachel and I had been better at the friendship thing, both of us trying to be present with each other, even though there was sadness at hand every time we were in each other’s company—as if we’d never see each other again.
So I got in the habit of texting her short status updates every day, even though we lived in the same condo. I figured that would be our form of communication when we were away, and I wanted to make sure to keep in touch this time around. I wanted to hear about her classes and her life. I wanted to be a part of her world as a friend, and maybe that would make leaving less difficult.
Out of earshot of Dakota, I told her that it was good for her to date again. That she deserved to have a healthy relationship with somebody who appreciated her. Who she could be herself around—and she almost burst into tears at my declaration. But we’d been in front of the television and Dakota could’ve walked back in the room at any moment with our popcorn from the microwave.
I’d said my good-byes tonight to my family and friends during a quick dinner at the casino. It had been quiet, my mother and Rachel equally sullen. As soon as I got to my car, I pulled out my phone to text Rachel. She was supposed to be catching a movie with Shane, Dakota, and Andrew—a blockbuster sneak preview that Dakota had gotten tickets to weeks ago.
I had bowed out, saying that I needed to pack a few more things. Instead, I sent her a final good-bye message with a more positive spin.
Have fun at the movie. If I don’t see you, I’ll text you when I land and let you know I arrived safely. Night, Turtle.
It seemed to take her a while to respond as I zipped my final belonging into my bag.
My father had arranged for a driver to take me to the airport in a few short hours. But now I was like a caged tiger, pacing back and forth, practically waffling on my decision.