15. Korine
15
KORINE
“Let’s check out some more of the market. Remember those bratwursts you used to love? The vendor’s still around.” Blake grabs hold of my hand and leads me deeper into the crowds.
I don’t know what I’m more thrown by, his warm hand engulfing my own, or the fact that he’s remembered such a small quirk of mine. The last time we attended this market we were seniors in high school fucking around on a bored Saturday.
The memories flicker in and out before my eyes. As we explore the many booths and displays set up on Main Street, I’m caught between the past and present. We’d pissed people off messing up the winter wonderland display by chucking snow at each other and had nicked extra free samples from food booths when the vendors weren’t looking. On a dare, I distracted Mrs. Igerson as Blake rearranged the snowman at her booth, swapping his carrot nose for a different kind of carrot down below. She’d screamed in outrage as he grabbed my hand and we took off running with sides aching from laughter.
It fades for the present where we’re adults, more mature than dressing up snowmen with carrots for penises, but still playful in our own way.
Blake shoves a beanie over my head at a booth selling knitted goods while I hold up an ugly Christmas sweater against his broad chest.
“Puke green,” I tease. “It looks good on you.”
“You and that mouth of yours. Always getting you into trouble.” He yanks the beanie down ’til it’s covering my eyes and I can’t see. Then he’s whisking me off after tossing a twenty at the booth owner.
A confused laugh bursts out of me. “Where are you taking—Blake!”
I’ve barely managed to pull the beanie off when I’m finding myself in front of a game stall. He’s situated me in one lane and himself in the other. The game operator’s already accepted cash in exchange for our turn.
I read the sign.
Shoot Santa’s Reindeer.
A game where we aim fake rifles at the moving reindeer targets and shoot as many of them as possible in under two minutes. A game we’ve played many times in the past.
“How festive,” I say with a disbelieving smile and shake of my head.
Blake winks at me. “We used to love this game. Still think you’re any good?”
“We? You mean you—it was one of the few games you beat me at.”
“There it is,” he says, the slightest twang in his voice. His eyes look over at me, shining a shade of blue more vivid than a sapphire. “There’s that cockiness Korine McKibbens is known for.”
“Cockiness? Me? You must be talking about yourself.”
“You climbed that tree all wrong,” he mimics, making me laugh and roll my eyes. “I can climb it better than you.”
“Well, I did, didn’t I?” I step up to my side of the counter and pick up the rifle that’s not really a rifle but a water gun. “And you did climb that tree all wrong.”
Blake says nothing, focusing on his own lane. He props his rifle up against his sturdy shoulder and takes aim. But even at a quick glance I can tell he’s eating this up; he’s loving how he’s gotten a reaction out of me, making me play along.
An old fire ignites inside me. My competitive edge that normally had us trying our hardest to beat each other. It had been a common thread throughout our childhood. While we became the best of friends, that didn’t mean we didn’t want bragging rights whenever facing off.
As the only girl in our friend group, I always had something to prove. Blake always treated me as an equal, never letting me win, always putting his best game forward like he would any of the boys.
It’s what I wanted—I didn’t want his pity, or for him to let me win. I wanted to earn it myself.
Still do.
Blake welcomes the challenge. He accepts when he loses. He admits when I’ve bested him. Almost like he’s proud I have. It’s not a threat to his masculinity because he’s secure in it, appreciating when I show that spark he says he loves so much.
Ken would be the opposite. If he were here right now, I’d have to lose. Any other result and he’d be pissed. He’d recede into stanch silence for the rest of the day ’til he exploded at night. He’d tell me I was trying to humiliate him like he did that time at a bank where I corrected him about something as small as a miscalculation he’d made. He hadn’t even waited ’til we got home that time—my mouth was throbbing in pain in the front seat of his Escalade after the wallop he’d given me…
When the game operator announces we’re about to begin, I’m still deep in these bad memories. I snap to attention right as the buzzer goes off, and Blake launches into his first round of shots.
Crap, I’m behind!
My competitive spirit pushes me. I focus on the reindeers sliding in and out of my line of vision and squeeze the trigger.
A small crowd gathers behind us. I know because, as I fire away, I can hear their entertained chatter. They cheer at any targets hit whether it’s me or Blake. Luckily, I manage to tune them out as I fire away at the reindeers.
The time’s up before I’m ready for it to be. We lower our rifles with fast-beating hearts and look to the operator for the verdict. He counts up the results and then gestures to Blake’s lane.
“Lane one wins!”
Blake beats a fist in the air in celebration. The audience we’ve acquired applauds him. I feel the sting of loss but a part of me also looks forward to the shit-talking that’s about to happen.
Sure enough, as Blake collects the voucher that’s his prize, he heads straight to me with a triumphant expression on his frustratingly handsome face.
I roll my eyes. “Talk your smack, Blake. You won.”
“Love hearing those two magic words from those pouty lips.”
His tease warms my skin. He catches himself a split second later, clearing his throat and grabbing my hand to lead me to our next stop. The voucher he won buys us brats and Cokes to snack on.
We find seats in a clearing near the park that’s been designated for marketgoers. Blake plunks down on the wooden picnic table and pats the space next to him.
I’m still flushed from not only losing but his teasing. He’d called my lips pouty . He’s spent all afternoon reaching for my hand and being as funny and charming as ever. How am I supposed to fight off the emerging feelings and temptations making their way to the surface?
I haven’t had a real sex drive in years. The result of Ken’s increasing abuse and my decreasing self-esteem. Yet my dream earlier and my thoughts now have me keenly aware of how my body’s awakening in response to his.
“The brats as good as you remember ’em?” he asks after a moment of silence.
My mouth full of the smoked sausage and pretzeled bun, a nod is all I’m capable of.
He washes down his next bite with a drink from his Coke. “I’m glad. That the brat’s still good and that you came out today. You needed something like this.”
Inhaling the fresh, crisp air and reaching for a napkin, I know he’s right. Today was something I needed.
“Thanks for making me come,” I say, tossing my napkin on the plate of my mostly eaten bratwurst. The thing’s huge and I’ll never finish it.
Blake seems to forget about his food and drink too. He angles his body to face me on the bench, lips tugging into something of a smile. The stare he gives me is the kind of stare he’s been giving me since we were clueless teens running through the Christmas market— certainty .
Certainty that sends a shiver coursing down my spine, like he knows some big secret I don’t. He sees something so damn obvious I’m in the dark on.
The thing is, I’ve never been in the dark about him. Not then and not now.
I only wished he’d done more to make me stay…
“It’s crazy how things can feel like old times,” he muses, proving he’s a mind reader. “Every part of town has a memory with you in it, Kori. I can look at that tree over there and remember the time we cut class and crashed on the grass.”
I blink and feel welled up emotion making itself known. “I did my homework anyway.”
“And I took a nap.”
A small gasp of a laugh leaves me. “That sounds about right.”
“But I see you here today too. At my side as we make new memories. I’ve always wanted that for us.”
“Me… too.” My throat works to swallow. I drop my gaze from his and study our hands only inches apart on the picnic table. His inching closer to mine. Mine palm side up as if instinctually waiting to be grabbed. “I wish,” I try, and then I sigh at the ache inside. “I wish it could’ve been different, Blake.”
“It still can be. It’s not too late.”
When his words are met with my silence, he lifts a hand to cup my chin and guide my gaze back up to his.
“You’re my girl, Kori,” he rasps, drawing my mouth closer to his. “You’ve been my girl since the first moment I saw you moving in next door. You’ve been my girl even when you were somebody else’s wife. You’re always gonna be my girl… ’til I’m fucking dead and gone and buried six feet under. Even then you’ll still be. Stop fucking fighting it and accept you’re mine.”
Our faces are so close they’re almost touching. The space of a breath away from each other. It’s like teetering on the edge as I peer into the boundless blue ocean that makes up his gaze. I’m a second away from falling into deep water that I’ll never be able to swim out of. Over twenty years of feelings that have only grown more intense with age.
It’s in the chemistry that circles us. The heat that caramelizes around us. So visceral and overpowering I feel it in the very core of who I am.
I’m the one that makes the move—something instinctually I know has to happen. Blake needs to know I’m in too. I want this. I want him.
My lips press to his almost shyly. It’s all he needs to lose restraint and seize the rare opportunity. For his rough hand to grip the side of my slender throat and deepen the kiss to sweltering levels. He kisses me as if stopping would mean I’m gone forever. I’ll fade from existence.
His lips warm, his tongue caressing, his kisses set fire to my brown skin. I lean into him as my mind empties and my heart races. A pulse of need thrums through me that’s long gone unsated.
It’s been so long since I’ve been touched like this. Since I’ve been kissed like this.
We lose ourselves to a blur of sweeping touches and hot kisses. Everything else is forgotten—who we are and where we are and what’s happening around us.
In this moment, I feel more alive than I have in years. The wall I’ve erected around my heart collapses. The hole that Blake left so long ago feels as if it’ll finally be filled. I’ll be whole again so long as I give into him. I become the Korine I was always supposed to be but got sidetracked along the way.
Blake’s kiss is nourishing. An epiphany that has me both dizzy and seeing clearly the second we draw apart and stare heavily lidded at each other.
He thumbs my bottom lip as if tempted to go in for more kisses but resisting by a thin thread. “Don’t run and hide, Kori. We’re in this together.”
I nod before leaning into him again, resting my head on the solidness of his shoulder. His arms come up around me, holding me, making me feel so unspeakably secure.
…until my gaze lands on the many trees and shrubs surrounding us in the park area and I swear I see leaves rustling. I hear the hurried pad of footsteps rushing away.
And I’m certain someone was watching us.