Little did she realize I hadn’t been with any girls since I’d laid eyes on her this summer. That’s why I didn’t want her to question me. Because I didn’t want her to know that she was the only girl I’d been thinking about. “So let’s go back to the thing you’re really upset about. The lie.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Everything was a lie. I was a lie. They knew I’d had a rough time, but after that one conversation, we never talked about it again. They didn’t know how dark it really was. How dark it still is. I’d hang out with them as the careless, fun one and then go back to my apartment and brood about everything else. I don’t know what the fuck was wrong with me. I just didn’t want to let anyone in.”
“Bet it’s hard, though, keeping up a façade like that.” My eyes flashed to the pained look on her face, and my heart expanded.
“It got old.” She shook her head as if clearing away that other part of herself. “Pretty sure I’m done.”
I wanted to ask if that meant she was done with other guys. If she was done with me. But the idea of that terrified me. Besides, our time together went beyond a hookup, because we had roots. Familiarity. Companionship. Didn’t we?
Even though the lines were all distorted and blurred, I didn’t want it to end.
Not yet. Not ever. But I knew it would, in a just few short weeks. So I’d rather pretend it never would, than to question it now.
“So fix it.” I lifted her chin with my thumb.
She had trouble meeting my eyes; hers were laden with guilt. “How?”
“By coming clean to them this weekend,” I said, kissing her head. “And with Dakota after that. You’ll feel better when you do.”
“And what if they’re done with me?” she said, worrying her lip between her teeth. “I mean, Avery and Ella.” One set of problems at a time.
“Then you didn’t have a basis of friendship after all,” I said, and I felt her shoulders grow rigid. Whether or not she’d admit it, she cared more for these girls than she’d been letting on. “They hung out with you for a reason, right?”
“They might have just thought I was good for a laugh. I was the ‘life of the party,’” she said, using her fingers as air quotes.
Who was this Rachel she was describing? Happy-go-lucky, not a care in the world?
I mean, she was always fun, a blast, even. But she could also be serious, give good advice, and be a great friend. The persona she had adopted at TSU sounded exhausting. And meaningless.
But hadn’t I been doing the same thing? Carefree playboy, troublemaker, ready for a good time. Except she’d been actively participating and I’d been actively avoiding. Using pot as my crutch. Fuck, we were more alike than I’d ever imagined. Both of us needed to get our shit together.
“Maybe,” I said, knowing full well Rachel was charming in so many other ways. “Or maybe your friends see beyond the pretense and are just waiting for you to share more of yourself.”
“I hope so, because they’re really cool.” She settled into my chest again and let out a sigh. I pulled her closer, rubbed circles on her back, and soon enough her head went limp against my shoulder.
“Does this mean you’re not mad?” she said in her groggy voice. “You still care about me, Kai?”
I knew she meant it in a brotherly, best-friend way. But I couldn’t help taking a deep breath and squeezing my eyes shut at just hearing those words fall from her sweet lips.
“Of course I’m not mad.” Her fingers increased their pressure on my forearm. I leaned closer to her ear and whispered, “I’ll always care about you, Turtle.”
Ik houd van jou. Even after you’re gone.
She hummed into my neck, and we both drifted off to sleep soon after.
Thankfully, I woke before dawn. The sky was turning pink, and I nudged Rachel awake so she could return to her bed.
She sat up, wiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands, and then pushed her legs over the side of the bed. I knew I wouldn’t get to see much of her this weekend with our friends around, so I grasped her hand and tugged her back down.
There was no resistance as she cocooned into me again. I gently kissed her neck, and she ground her hips against mine. I had a raging hard-on like I always did when she was curled up next to me, and I tried adjusting myself in my shorts.
My fingers grazed beneath her shirt to touch her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra—she rarely came to my room with one on anymore—and her nipples hardened on contact.
“I don’t think we have time,” she whispered, and then moaned as I covered her gorgeous tits with my hands.