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.
I played a couple of tunes on my upright bass, before placing it back in its hard-shell case. Dakota had agreed to keep some of my belongings that were harder to ship at the condo. I would used Johan’s spare bass in the studio, one I’d grown most fond of.
When I still hadn’t heard back from Rachel twenty minutes later, I chucked my phone on the bed and plugged in my headphones. If I was going to get any sleep tonight, no matter how minimal, I need to calm the fuck down.
A few moments later, I was startled by a hard knock at my bedroom door. Who in the hell was in the condo?
When I swung open the door Rachel stood there biting her lip, unsteady on her feet. “What . . . why aren’t you at the movie?”
She looked down at her toes. “Dakota and Shane went, but I asked Andrew to drive me home.”
My heart was lodged painfully in my throat. “Why?”
“I just . . . couldn’t . . .” Fat tears began rolling down her cheeks.
“Hey, come here.” My hand at her hip, I pulled her into me. “I’m going to miss you, too.”
She tucked her head into my chest, her fingers grasping at my shoulders.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I said, kicking the door shut behind her.
“No. I just . . .” Her voice was soft and breathy. “I need you to hold me.”
When her emerald eyes met my midnight blues, a spark flared in my chest so forceful, scorching, overwhelming—that I nearly doubled over from the intensity.
It was as if all the molecules in the room were rearranging themselves to be in our airspace—forcing our fiery energy together.
It was so primal, there was no way anyone would have been able to tear us apart.
In one second flat, I had her wedged against the door. I ran my nose along her jawline as her breaths became ragged.
“Kai.”
My lips skimmed her ear. “What the hell are we doing, Rachel?”
“I don’t know.” She whimpered as my fingers braced the back of her neck beneath her hairline. “It’s already fucked up. I’d rather you left with this kind of memory, wouldn’t you?”
I growled as I lifted her off the floor, and she wrapped her legs around my waist.
My hands traveled beneath her denim skirt to her nearly-bare ass, and my hard-on ground against her stomach.
Dakota was at a movie, we were alone in the apartment, and Rachel was mine—all fucking mine, for these final stolen minutes. I wished that I could freeze this moment and stare into her eyes for all of eternity. I had no idea what the fuck we were doing—just that I needed this, too, even though I’d pay for it later.