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Whisper to Me(84)

By:Christina Lee


“Isn’t that because your brother didn’t approve?” It felt better not saying his name out loud.

“Probably,” she said. “But Kai said something to Shane before he left for Amsterdam.”

“What in the hell did he say?”

“His exact words were: ‘Go for it, dude.’”

My jaw hung open incredulously. “As in, you and Shane?”

“Yeah,” she said, her eyes wide. “Shane said he seemed different. More open to the idea. Said he didn’t want to hold anybody back from finding happiness.”

“Holy crap.” What in the hell had made Kai change his mind about that? Was it because of what had happened between us?

“And you may not think I’m so perfect after all,” Dakota said, twirling a coffee-stained napkin in front of her.

I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Shane and me. We’ve . . . kissed. We’ve . . . made out a couple of times this summer.”

“You dirty little slut.” I laughed, actually relieved that Dakota had faults—vulnerabilities—just like the rest of humanity. “And?”

“It was amazing,” she said, with a dreamy glint in her eyes.

Then her eyes darted away. “But now he’s leaving.”

I squeezed her hand. Gosh, if she only knew how wrecked I was over someone leaving, as well. “It’s not like you can’t date long-distance. You both have a year left. You’ll figure it out.”

“That’s exactly what Shane said.” She, however, didn’t look entirely convinced.

“See?” I said. “Think positive.”

“God, I feel so much better now that I told you,” she said. “I suppose I should thank my brother. Or not. That little shit.”

I grinned and shook my head. Siblings. “Why do you think Kai gave his blessing?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “He’s been different, more mature. Maybe I was wrong to get on his case all summer.”

“Please, you’re always on his case. This summer was no different.”

She chuckled. “True.”

“Dakota . . .” It was on the tip of my tongue and I needed to just come out with it. “You know how close I feel to Kai, right? I consider him one of my best friends.”

She nodded. “You guys have a close friendship. He respects you a lot.”

“I . . . think”—my neck and cheeks and ears heated up—“I’ve developed a little crush on him this summer.”

Dakota stayed silent, and I had no idea what she was thinking.

Shit, had I ruined everything by telling her?

She folded her arms across her chest. “So you finally admit it?”

My head snapped up. “Huh?”

“In my opinion, you’ve had a crush on my brother since high school. Along with every other girl,” she said. “I don’t know what it is about girls swooning over bad boys. We’ve got to do something to save ourselves.”

I laughed, but it wasn’t genuine. Dakota lumping me in with every other girl made my stomach turn over. Brought me back to reality. Gave me the good thump on the head I needed.

“I’m sorry, Rachel,” she said, biting her lip. “I don’t know if my brother will ever settle down.”

“No, it’s cool—I’ll totally get over it,” I said, shaking my head vigorously. Suddenly I wanted to take it all back and suffer silently again. “I won’t see him for a long time, anyway.”

And that’s what kept me grounded as I got through my first month of classes.

Remembering how unconvinced Dakota had sounded about her own brother.





Chapter Thirty-seven


Kai





The first thing I did when I arrived in Amsterdam—besides taking a lengthy shower and a nap—was to tell Johan that I needed more shifts in order to learn everything I could about the business.

I’d had a long plane ride to think it all through. Returning to Amsterdam didn’t exactly sit well in my gut. So I needed to use my time here wisely and force myself to figure out what the hell I was doing with my life.

I worked long hours at the studio and absorbed as much information as I could about equipment, instruments, and relationships in the music biz. An idea was beginning to take shape, and when I told Johan about it, he was cool with it. He even said it didn’t surprise him.

What had kept me going was the adrenaline rush of finally having a goal and doing the work to achieve it. I didn’t even bother with weed, even though it was more readily available over there. I also pretty much hung on Rachel’s daily texts.

I couldn’t shake our last night together. The way she’d looked at me, how it felt to be buried so deep inside her. When her white lace underwear fell out of my suitcase my first night back in the Netherlands, I almost texted her a picture of it. To remind her of the incredible connection we’d had.