Kai—the guy who spent hours playing cards and wheeling me back and forth to physical and occupational therapy. Who held my hand when I could barely grasp his back. Who stayed in my room until I fell asleep with tears dried in the corners of my eyes from crying so damn hard over Miles.
Those nights in the hospital changed me. Toughened me up. Even more than the physical accident caused me to get stronger. More than the two surgeries reduced the swelling and pieced the fragments of my skull back together.
Now Kai gripped my shoulder in another show of support. Or maybe it was to hold himself back from pouncing on Miles. He’d already done that once after the accident, and I made him promise to never do it again. Even though Miles had deserved it.
But I wasn’t the same girl who needed Kai’s support back then. I hardened to the point of not needing anyone anymore. At least I didn’t want to need anyone. And I’d proven that I could take care of myself during these last three years.
So when I shrugged Kai off, I felt his hand skate down my back and fall away. Like it was a last-ditch effort to hang on to the girl I had once been.
I felt a warm hand on my arm again and figured Kai was trying to mess with me, but when I looked back it was Dakota instead. Her eyes were widened in surprise. “Shoot, I’d heard he was back in town, but I didn’t think he’d show up here. Let’s have Shane kick him out.”
I steadied my breath. “No, it’s cool. I don’t want him to think I can’t handle being at the same party with him.”
At this point almost everyone’s gaze was shifting back and forth between Miles and me, even though he hadn’t even spotted me yet. Kai had stepped away and now stood across from me, as if to shield me from Miles’s view. I had to look away from him because I knew his gaze would cut deep. He knew how hard it’d been for me those days after the accident. He knew so damn well. My knees practically buckled at the thought.
The crowd parted to let Miles through and as the realization of my presence dawned on him, his jaw became slack and his steps slowed to a halt. He gave me the once-over, like he was seeing a damn ghost or something.
He was all lean muscles from playing ball twenty-four seven for Cleveland State University. I’d forgotten how smooth his tan skin had felt or how long his powerful legs had been. He was so tall, in fact, that I barely reached his chest. But I’d loved that about him—how he could lift me up with one scoop of his arm or raise my mouth to his lips. Rumor had it that he had a good chance of being picked in the NBA draft this summer. I knew that was his dream, so in a strange way, I was glad for him. But that happiness was padded by a thick wall of sorrow, even to this day. Because there were so many things unresolved between us.
I’d thought for sure I was over him. But seeing him standing before me with his close-cropped hair, square jaw, and deep-set brown eyes was nearly my undoing. Regret slammed into my chest and blindsided me. I tasted the stinging of tears in the back of my throat. The truth of the matter was: I’d never been gutted by someone like that before Miles. Anyone who’d experienced such a profound loss would understand the lingering influence that person has over you. Your emotions. Your moods.
My heart had been tucked away in a corner, with the shades pulled down, for the past three years, but now it was as if she were peeking out the window, getting a closer look at the one person who’d obliterated her.
Even as Miles high-fived a bunch of guys, he kept his eyes glued to mine. But I didn’t want him to have that kind of power over me, not anymore. So I commanded my legs to move. I turned and nearly tripped over my own toes, they felt so unstable, like a crumbled and abandoned building. As I walked back over to my perch by the truck, I felt as if I were floating in some kind of fucked-up dream.
An old high school friend named Carrie made room for me on the edge of the truck bed, sympathy dripping from her eyes. “You okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, my voice sounding strained. “First time I’m seeing him, is all.”
Man, I was way off my game since I’d been back home. I didn’t discuss feelings with anybody. Not anymore. Normally I wouldn’t even dignify that kind of lame question with a response. Especially not to these people, who’d never figured out how to treat me and had backed away instead, making me feel even more alone. I mean, fuck, I was only a girl in town who’d had an accident that resulted in a brain injury.
“Rachel.” He was standing in front of me now, and Carrie had the decency to scoot off the truck bed to give us privacy.
My name fell from his lips, and my stomach clenched into a solid brick. I hadn’t heard him say my name in such a long time that the sensation bordered on painful.