Chapter Fifty-One
Fifty-one
Scarlett
When I walk into the hockey house after my exam, I’m not surprised to hear noise coming from the living room, but I am surprised to find everyone screaming.
Dylan’s got Sierra caged to his chest, his arms cinched tight around her while she squirms and glares up at him. They’re both balanced on the arms of the couch like the floor is lava. Across the room, Summer’s on the coffee table with my boyfriend crouched behind her, peeking out through her hair.
Summer elbows him. “Stop hiding behind me! Go catch it.”
“I’m allergic to spiders.”
She twists to glare at him. “How would you even know that if you’ve never gone near one?”
“Yeah, take one for the team, Ishida,” Dylan calls. “Or else we’re gonna have to burn this house down. Aiden and Eli won’t be happy.”
“This is why I hate long distance,” Summer mutters.
“Because your boyfriend isn’t here to catch spiders?” Kian says, peeking out again.
She elbows him harder. He pouts, and I can’t help the grin stretching across my face.
“If you would just let go of me, I could do it,” Sierra grumbles into Dylan’s chest.
“No way, baby. As your boyfriend, I can’t let you kill a spider.” He presses a kiss to her temple.
She glares. “Then you do it!”
“Hell no. Did you see its legs?” Dylan shudders, setting off a chain reaction of shivers around the room.
That’s when I see it, the world’s tiniest black spider skittering across the floor. I spot the cup and piece of paper by the archway. I step forward, and the whole room gasps.
“Scar! Baby, don’t—” Kian beckons frantically, suddenly brave enough to move out from behind Summer.
I crouch, cup in hand, and just as the spider crawls onto the paper and I trap it under the cup, Kian swoops in. He sprints outside and flings the spider into the grass like it’s radioactive.
Then he comes straight to me, leaning in until he’s just inches away. “How was your exam, baby?”
The whole room is staring, but for once, I don’t care. He’s all I see. “I think I did really well.”
“Mmm, I know you did.” His kiss starts soft, then deepens until I’m on my tiptoes, breathless when he finally pulls away. “Look at us, we’re a power couple.”
“Oh yeah? Do you think you did well on your exam?” I was worried about his exam more than my own.
He nods, clearly pleased with himself.
Kian’s busy playing with my hair when I look at him again. “I didn’t know you were allergic to spiders.”
“You heard all that?” He almost squeaks.
“Oh yeah. Including your squeal while you were hiding behind Summer.”
He scratches the back of his head. “I figured the spider wouldn’t go near her. She’s terrifying.”
“Hey!” Summer shouts, already on a video call with Aiden, who looks half asleep in bed on the screen.
“Watch it, Ishida,” Aiden rumbles half-heartedly through the phone.
“Don’t pretend she’s not,” Kian mutters, and I wince as Summer stomps toward him, but Kian uses me as a human shield.
Summer softens when she looks at me. “Thanks for saving us, Scarlett.”
When she’s gone he lets out a breath, and leads us toward the kitchen. “I know you probably haven’t eaten yet. So I got you breakfast.”
There are boxes and boxes of takeout, all the breakfast food from Lola’s, milkshakes, and sides of fries. It’s way too much food, but I’ve seen Kian eat before. The man is like a vacuum.
“Are you sure this isn’t for you?” I glance over my shoulder to look at him.
“Hey, you love Lola’s too. I saw the way you cleaned those croffles off your plate last time.”
“I’m kidding. Let’s eat, and you better be giving some to your friends because there’s no way this much diner food is good for you.”
“Of course, but we get first dibs.” He pulls out some plates and sets them on the table.
If he was going for an intimate breakfast for the two of us, it doesn’t last very long because his roommates barrel into the kitchen, grabbing plates and pulling out chairs to sit at the table.
Kian checks in with me, as if he thinks I’d be annoyed, but I love it.
I love the chaos in this house. It’s not something I’ve ever had before.
When we’re done, Kian refuses to let me help him with the dishes.
Instead, he pulls the dish towel out of my hand and replaces it with one of those caramel hard candies grandmothers carry in their purse.
I blink in surprise at the golden wrapper, and when I look up to meet those pretty earthy eyes, Kian’s already back to the dishes, a smile playing on his lips.
I unwrap it and pop it into my mouth, watching the suds drip down the dark tattoos on his veiny hands.
It might be the radio in the kitchen humming, or the stream of water accompanied by the low hum of the refrigerator, but it all feels so peaceful.
Kian doesn’t ask anything of me. Not for my help, not for my words, nothing. He just lets me be without taking. It makes my heart hum along with the radio.
But I like his attention on me, and I used to think that was a problem, but not anymore.
I can crave the way his soft brown eyes caress my skin, how that smile lifts his lips when he sees something he likes, when he sees me.
The way his tattoos almost blend in with the art on my skin, like we’re one canvas and two artists.
It must be the heady desperation of wanting his sunlit attention on my face that makes me run my hand under the faucet and flick a handful of water at him.
He jerks back, his Carhartt T-shirt sporting a splash of water on the front that darkens the gray fabric.
A few drops drip from his inky hair onto the bridge of his nose before he lifts his eyes to me.
Finally.
“You don’t want to start this.”
I free my lip from between my teeth. “Why not?”
Kian smiles, and my chest cracks open to spill out sunlight. “You can start the game, Scarlett, but I’ll always finish it. Every time.”
A shiver runs up my spine, but I try not to let it show or bring any attention to the goose bumps on my skin. Before I can answer with another splash of water, Kian grabs the hose on the side of the sink and sprays my face with cold water. My white shirt is soaked, and my hair starts to curl.
He tilts his head, letting go of the hose so it retracts. “I think I won.”
I take a deep breath and step closer, my body heating and my heart hammering against my ribs as he watches me. “Was that your goal? To get me all wet?”
His Adam’s apple bobs, and I notice his breathing changes. “That’s not—”
I pull out the hose, pressing the button so the hiss of pressure releases the spray straight at Kian’s face. I don’t stop, not even when he tries to snatch it out of my hand, and not even when he covers my hand with his and pulls me right against his chest so we’re both getting soaked.
“Okay, okay, I’m—I’m…sorry,” I shriek through gasps of air.
He doesn’t stop. Not until I’m begging, clutching onto his shirt, and shivering. Only then does the onslaught of this dumb game I started end. Because Kian finishes every game.
“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”
I look up at him through wet lashes, my teeth chattering. “I said I’m sorry.”
“Louder, sweetheart.”
But then even in this moment, when my whole body is freezing and I can barely feel any sensation, there’s still one that makes my heart beat faster.
I realize that the reason is right in front of me.
Someone who makes me laugh like there’s nothing more important in this moment, like there’s an invisible force around us, always finding pockets of good.
“I love you,” I say instead.
The onslaught of water stops immediately, and he’s blinking through wet lashes, trying to figure out if he’s heard me right, so just for good measure I say it again.
“I love you, Kian. It kind of makes me sick to think I haven’t said it earlier.
But I hope you know that I’ve felt it for so long.
I love how much you care about your friends, and how much you love the people in your life.
I love how even after giving a piece of yourself to so many people, you still have some to give me.
You only ever gave me all of you, and I want to give you all of me. For as long as you’ll let me.”
He drops the sink hose, using his fingers to brush the water away from my face, like he’s memorizing the moment.
Kian doesn’t speak, but his mouth finds mine, reverent, unhurried, speaking everything he hasn’t.
His hand slides down until his fingers press into the curve of my back, holding me to him.
Then he squeezes lightly, like he’s making sure it’s me, forcing me to sink deeper into him, threading my fingers through his wet hair, tugging until we’re chest to chest. My body fizzes with something so complete, so above wanting and needing that I know this is it, this is enough for me.
When he pulls back, I see Kian-shaped stars. He’s so gentle with me, I nearly start to cry. How could he make me feel so much without saying a word?
“I know,” he finally says. “And not because you love everyone, but because you give everyone a chance to show you why you should love them. You gave me that chance, and I don’t intend on wasting it.
You don’t love me because I love you; you love me because you think I deserve it.
So yeah, I know, Scarlett. And I love you, too, baby. ”
There’s a calm that settles over his face, a look I’ve never seen on his face before—maybe only when he listens to “Over the Rainbow,” but there’s something so pure about it that I wish I could capture it in a bottle.
“You know?” I ask again.
“I know.”