Whisper to Me(75)

“Proud of you, Kai.” Rachel held up her hand to give me a high five and my palm met hers in midair. She grabbed on to my hand and pulled me in for a hug.

In my ear, she whispered, “That’s the song you’ve been playing every night.”

“Yeah,” I said, surprised that she recognized it. It had been so long since we’d been this physically close; I just wanted to stay wrapped up in her—smell her skin and kiss her neck—but I pulled away instead. “What did you think?”

“It was amazing,” she said. “I like how you sang a bit of it, too. I never knew you had such a cool voice.”

I reveled in her compliments. I’d sing for her every night if she asked me to. “Thanks.”

Mom gave me a strange look as I left Rachel’s side. Then she blew me a kiss as I inched past her to the bar to order myself a drink.

Sam was seated on a stool next to my father and a few other off-duty casino employees.

“Nice job, son,” my father said, grabbing my shoulder. I knew our set probably sounded decent, but hearing my father say it had been exactly what I needed. “You’ve got us a good crowd tonight.”

When my father turned to talk to the bar manager, Sam said, “Yeah, you play a mean bass.”

“Thanks, Sam,” I said. “How’s Micah?”

Rachel had come to visit Micah with me the day she’d been discharged. Even though we had to wear masks, she sat and talked to him in the visitor’s lounge for a while about his interests, school, and friends. I could tell she’d felt as emotional about his condition as I had. He was a young kid and already had so much to deal with in his life. I could see the stress of his mounting medical bills on his family member’s faces.

“He’s having a good week,” Sam said.

“Glad to hear it,” I said, spotting a familiar face in my peripheral vision. It was Meadow from Housekeeping. She looked different in street clothes. Gorgeous, in fact, with her long hair, dark eyes, and sweet figure. Still, I craved Rachel’s scent and lips and eyes—which tonight were a leafy green, vivid and clear and pure.

As Meadow and I chatted, I couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder at Rachel, who had returned to her conversation with Andrew. I tried not to pay them any attention, but the heaviness of her presence was in this bar. The tension pricked at my spine and settled in my bones.

And maybe this was exactly how it was meant to be. Me, permitting Rachel the space and freedom to discover relationships with new guys. Just what Dakota had said she needed.

I’d allow Rachel that. She probably deserved it. So I’d play along and act interested in whatever Meadow had to say.





Chapter Thirty-two


Kai





Walking into the Pure grand opening, I could tell from the window display alone that this was all Rachel’s doing. Rachel’s shop. It might have been her mother’s business but Rachel’s style was written all over it. The front windows were warm browns and bright pinks—strong and feminine, just like her.

I pulled open the glass door as the bell above it jangled, but the sound could barely be heard over the din of the crowd. The place was crammed with family and friends and more than a few new faces. So packed, in fact that the windows were steaming up.

I was greeted at the door by Rachel’s mom, who was passing out lip balm samples. She pulled me into a hug. “You’re looking just as handsome as always. Thanks for coming.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” I said, staring into the attractive face of Mrs. Mattson. Rachel was definitely her likeness with her dark hair and bright green eyes. “The place looks great.”

“Rachel sure knows how to decorate a space. And pack a room, for that matter,” she said, looking over the crowd. “I couldn’t have done it without her. I’m sure going to miss her when she returns to TSU in a couple of weeks.”

I spotted Rachel across the room in a girly, yellow sundress and my breath caught in the back of my throat. She was laughing with Dakota, a wash of color splashed across her cheeks. She looked relaxed, carefree and stunning.

“It’ll all work out,” I said, when I noticed the worry line between Mrs. Mattson’s brow. “I know you’re nervous, but she’s tough and independent. She’s been through way worse and the university isn’t that far away.”

“You’re a good friend,” she said, patting my arm. I definitely was trying to be again.

A few high school friends were there, including Julia, who’d texted me a couple more times since I’d been home. I’d met friends up at the bar a few nights, and each time she’d been there, I’d turned her down, but she was sure to try again. And maybe tonight I’d play along.