43. king
CHAPTER 43
KING
YOU CAN'T SPELL MASSACHUSETTS
Willow hurried in, her face tight with embarrassment. Right behind her, Boxer settled at the door frame, scratching his ear.
"King—"
"What are you doing? " I croaked.
"Um—Lawson wanted help picking out the present, and I needed to talk to you anyway. I didn’t mean to crash your party?—"
"Not the party. What are you thinking? " I pushed away from the counter. "You have aunts in Louisiana, and every time you visit, they cook you something different, because you can’t stand to eat anything that comes out of the ocean. You hate seafood."
"What?"
"And you have low circulation! There’s a million blankets on your bed! I bought extra comforters for you! You’re not a cold person, you like the warmth, you said it’s one of your favorite parts about Texas." I yanked out my phone from my back pocket. "Willow, you can’t spell Massachusetts."
Her eyes widened in recognition. "King?—"
"When we were texting, you kept misspelling it, and I never said anything, but you can’t live somewhere you can’t spell?—"
" King. "
"You don’t belong in Massachusetts?—"
"I’m not going to Boston!" She ran up and dropped her voice. "Piper already gave me the whole ‘you belong at Marrs’ speech this morning?—"
"I don’t give a fuck about Marrs. You belong with me. "
Willow stared at me, shocked.
It was true and exactly what I needed to say. It was insane that it took her almost leaving to get it out of me. Because Willow couldn’t go halfway across the country. That was too damn far away.
"You belong with me," I repeated, finally breathing normally. "That’s where you’re supposed to be."
"We’re not talking about this."
"I want to talk about this."
"I’m not going to Boston," she said, so quiet, I had to lean in to hear her. "My mom’s here and everything’s starting to get better with us. My brothers are going to be here. I just transferred. I’m starting to put down roots with music. And—and—" She purposely looked away from me. "My dad’s upset because he thinks I’m staying for you?—"
"Your dad knows about me?"
She winced. "Only the sanitized version but he…wasn’t…thrilled about the situationship thing we had going on?—"
"Be my girlfriend."
The rest of her sentence stuttered as she tried to bypass the three words I wouldn’t let her ignore.
I dipped even closer. "I want to cook you dinner and drive to your shows and see you in my jersey and get tattoos for you and call you before bed and fly you out to my games. I’ve never felt like this about anyone, not even close, and I know you feel the same—" The door pushed open and I recognized the little footsteps. "Jasmine, you have five seconds to leave. "
"Are you done yet?" she whined.
I pointed towards the door. "Out. Now. "
"I knew it! You’re mad at me?—"
"Now I am! You’re not the only one that gets time with Willow. Guess what? It’s my turn."
"You get to hang out with Willow all the time! I have a human right!"
"Jazzy Jazz, we’re having an adult conversation, okay?" Willow stammered. "We need two minutes. You count and we’ll play with your present."
"Why does he get to talk to you? It’s my party?—"
"Every time you complain, I’m adding thirty minutes," I threatened.
"No." Willow stopped me. "Two minutes. That’s it."
With a groan, Jasmine stomped out of the kitchen.
"Be my girlfriend."
Willow shook her head.
"No?" I echoed.
"How are you going to talk to Lawson and?—?"
"You’re right, I need to talk to him."
I strode past her and Willow made a surprised squeak before she hurried around to stop me, a hand to my chest. "What are you doing? "
"I’m going to tell him we’re dating."
"There’s a hot and a cold scale for you. I get that you’re on the hot setting right now, but after you go and tell Lawson and my mom and our friends, in twenty minutes, we’re going to do this weird breakup thing again, and it’s going to be even worse when everyone knows."
The solution was so fucking simple. "We won’t break up."
"Yes, we will."
"No, we won’t?—"
"When we do break up again, it’s going to break my heart again, and it won’t be just my dad hearing about it this time. Lawson’s going to see it happen, know it’s you, and I don’t want him to think that the way to get closer to me is to hurt you! "
Her words vanished as she touched the counter, avoiding my gaze.
I broke her heart.
My stomach twisted into knots. I always focused on how much it hurt me when I stepped away, I’d been too fucking selfish to think how it really impacted her.
"I’m so sorry, Willow," I said quietly.
She shook her head. "I’m sorry about the face paint thing. I didn’t mean for that to happen."
"Willow—"
"That’s not even why I came here—oh my god—where are my panties?"
Oh.
Fuck.
I said nothing.
" King. "
I stayed silent.
Willow took a deep breath. "I need them back."
"That’s not going to happen," I muttered.
"Where are they?"
"I threw them away."
"What? Why? "
"Because I jerked off into them. Came all over them. Bathed them in cum, thinking about you. And then I came on them again. I figured you wouldn’t want them back."
For long seconds, Willow gazed up at me, stunned. Slowly, she shook her head. "King…"
I moved without really thinking about it, pressing up closer to her space, cutting the distance between us. "I want you so badly I’m choking myself every day trying not to say it."
"King…"
"I’m sorry for being an asshole and I’ll apologize for it?—"
"We’ll—we can talk about this after the draft?—"
"I’m not waiting," I insisted. "I can't stay away anymore."
The door opened.
Immediately, she ducked away from me. I didn’t move as she pushed in chairs on her way out, before being stopped by my mom, beaming and waving at her.
"Willow, you’re just adorable, it’s so good to meet you?—"
"Thank you, Ms. King," she managed.
"Don’t even dream of calling me that, it’s Lorelei?—"
"Thank you, Lorelei. You have a lovely home," Willow said quickly and walked outside, Boxer dutifully following after her.
I gazed out the window as she made her way to Jasmine and all our friends around her, while Boxer stayed at her heels, only coming to a stop when she did.
My mom took sugar-free snacks out of the fridge. "Have you ever, and I mean ever, seen Boxer act like that?"
I shook my head.
Willow was showing Jasmine how to use her new birthday present, a brand-new keyboard, while Boxer laid at her sandals. He couldn’t have been more than two inches away from her before he rolled over to expose his belly. When did Boxer ever do that at a packed party? Never. Willow reached down to pet him, and Boxer’s tail thumped against the grass.
"You know what it is? Dogs get chemical readings from their humans," my mom said matter-of-factly. "They can sense how their owners feel about them."
I froze.
"The very second he recognized her as Jasmine’s new favorite, that was it!"
But Jasmine wasn’t anywhere close to Willow when Boxer first ran up to her. I was. My obsession with the coach’s daughter was so obvious, the dog picked up on it.
"You went for a new tattoo?" my mom asked.
I flexed my fingers and nodded, beginning to clean up the kitchen. Now that I knew Willow wasn’t going to Boston, relief flooded through me. It was time to figure out how I was going to apologize and make up for everything.
"What is it?"
I fished out my phone and showed her a screenshot of Hali’a’s book, with the name of the tattoo cropped out.
"What does it mean?" my mom asked, curious.
I shrugged, kneeling to grab some cleaning supplies from the cabinet, but felt something stashed behind them. The relief was gone. I stayed down for a few more seconds before holding up the pack of cigarettes.
"Oh…" My mom cleared her throat. "King…"
"If I quit, you quit. That was the agreement. This isn’t helping the medication." I stashed them in my back pocket. If I threw them away at the house, she’d take them out of the trash. I breathed through my nose. "What if Jasmine found these?"
"Oh my goodness." Her hand flew to her throat.
"You lied to the doctors, you have to be honest with them—" The look on her face made me stop. "What?"
"Why do you have Willow’s name tattooed on your hand?! "