Skyler #2
Before that moment, Kip had no idea why I wasn’t on my game tonight.
It could have been anything — a sorority event, my family, school.
But no, I just lit up a bright neon sign that said he is the one on my mind, the reason I’m so off, the reason I couldn’t keep my shit together and win the tournament.
I’m supposed to be into Adam — that was the role I agreed to play. That’s what Kip is supposed to think. And if that was the case, then there is absolutely no reason I should be upset about him being with Erin.
I’m not supposed to care about him.
I told him I didn’t care.
And now, I’ve fucked everything up.
“Skyler,” Kip says my name again, out of breath as he jogs up the last of the steps after me.
I cross my arms over my chest defiantly. “Just open the damn door.”
He huffs, shoving the key in the lock and swinging the door open. “What the fuck, Skyler?” he yells when we’re inside, tossing his keys on the table by the door. His hands run through his hair next, pulling a little like I’m driving him mad. “Why are you mad at me?”
My eyes skirt to the bedroom, to the bed where Kip put his hands on me.
The same one he fucked Erin in.
Ugh.
“You wanted this, didn’t you?” he presses when I don’t answer. “We’re friends. You have Adam, and I’ve moved on. I haven’t made this weird. I didn’t hold what happened against you and I didn’t make shit awkward. I moved on and you got what you wanted, because clearly Adam wants you.”
His voice cracks a little at that.
“I see him texting you every fucking day, and he’s always talking about you. This is it.” He tosses his hands up, letting them slap against his thighs when they land again. “You asked for this. So, why does it matter who I’m fucking?”
And there it is.
I assumed before, and after his admission in the car, I may have been reaching. But with those words, I know with absolute certainty.
I’m not allowed to care that he’s fucked Erin. That was the plan, that was what I signed up for.
I’m not allowed to care.
But that doesn’t change the fact that I do.
“Let’s just drop it, okay, Kip?” I beg, crossing my arms over my middle to try to suffocate my urge to vomit.
One quick glance at Kip has me wishing I could sink into the floor and disappear. He’s just standing there across the room, arms outstretched, chest heaving as he watches me under bent brows. He’s sporting a light green t-shirt, one that sets his icy eyes ablaze in the low light of his apartment.
He’s absolutely beautiful.
And absolutely off-limits.
“Let’s just talk about the tournament,” I try. “And then we can both go to sleep and clear our heads.”
“No.” The word is more of a growl, his jaw tense when it leaves his lips. “Fuck that.”
He takes a few steps toward me and I instinctively back up, finding the wall with my back and then my palms.
“I don’t know what fucking game you’re playing,” he spits. “But I’m calling it tonight. Why do you care about me and Erin?”
“Kip, please…”
“You broke me that night, Skyler.”
My chest tightens at the rasp in his voice, the earnest honesty. He moves closer, and I pin my bottom lip between my teeth, willing it not to quiver. I roll my eyes up toward the ceiling, fighting against the urge to cry, to break and tell him everything.
Kip taps his fist on his chest. “Everything I felt between us,” he says, voice thick with emotion.
“Everything I know is here, you told me it didn’t exist. And you know what?
I knew it was bullshit. I knew it. The words were coming from your lips, and it was your eyes I was looking into as each one slammed into me, but it wasn’t you I was hearing.
So,” he says. One step closer. “Now’s your chance to tell me — why do you care? ”
I shake my head as tears blur my vision. Kip takes another step, the warmth from his chest warming my own.
“Was it Erin?”
All I can do is focus on each breath. In and out, inhale and exhale.
Do not cry.
Do. Not. Break.
But one tear breaks loose, scarring my cheek with its wet betrayal.
It might be an invisible scar, but I’ll feel this tear forever.
And that’s the thing about scars. They’re like skid marks on the highway.
No one slows down enough to see the painful proof that something happened.
But the road? The road will always remember.
The road can’t forget, no matter how many times it’s repaved.
“Was it?” Kip repeats. “Or was it that you were starting to feel something, too?”
I swallow, my eyes on his, trying and failing to meet his challenging stare with my own.
“I know you, Skyler,” he whispers. “I know who you pretend to be in front of all these people.” He sweeps his hand behind him, toward campus. “And I know who you really are.”
His eyes soften a little then, and he leans forward, the electricity sparking between us. I focus on his eyes, willing myself not to notice the thick bulge of his neck, the tightness in his biceps, the heaving of his chest.
“I know the you who doesn’t fit in because you were never meant to.
You were born to stand out. You want to pretend like you’re untouchable and nothing can phase you with those people?
Play around with a few frat boys, dress up in frilly dresses and keep your reputation?
Fine,” he says. “But don’t sit here and feed me that bullshit. I see you, Skyler. I. See. You.”
His hands find my arms, tenderly, but I jump anyway. His cool palms slide up, slowly, covering me with goosebumps as he runs them over my shoulders, my neck, until my face is cradled between them. More tears fall, landing between us as I keep my chin high and my eyes on his.
“Why do you care?” he asks again, his voice low.
“I don’t.”
“Liar.”
My entire body trembles as I lick my lip and pull my eyes to the ceiling again. My next confession slips out in a whisper, a solemn admission I wish I didn’t have to make.
“I don’t want to.”
“But you do.”
I can’t answer. I just swallow, closing my eyes and setting two new tears free.
“This is a no-limit game, Skyler,” Kip says.
“Neither of us went into it thinking we would be here, but now we’ve got everything on the table because we’re both too stubborn to give in.
I raise, you call. You raise, I call.” He shakes his head.
“Back and forth, always in this fucking game. You want to win? Fine. Take it. Take everything I have, but I’m not the one who’s going to walk away the real loser. ”
I can’t breathe. My chest squeezes, my breaths like fire instead of oxygen in my lungs.
“If you don’t wake up and realize what you’re feeling — what we’re feeling — is real, then it’s you I feel sorry for,” he says, taking a tentative step back. His eyes never leave mine. “It’s you who loses.”
His words are an ice bucket of water, poured over an already trembling me, the truth of them permeating my skin like they’ll forever be a part of me now.
Kip turns, throwing his hands up and letting them rest on his head as he faces the door.
For a moment, I just watch his back, the ebbs and flows of the muscles as he breathes.
I feel sick as I squeeze my eyes shut, holding back the sob stuck tight in my throat.
My next move isn’t clear — not even close.
It’s like staring into murky, black water and trying to find the one and only shiny penny on the bottom.
He’s right.
We are in a game, and if he knew everything I’ve done to play this hand, if he knew about Erin, about the deal, he would hate me.
Which is why I can’t tell him.
And though my stomach sinks at that, at a truth I have to bury away and never let him see, my hands stop trembling. My breaths come more even as I open my eyes, lifting my gaze, and the endless flow of tears halt.
Because I’m done playing the game.
I can’t imagine it, moving on without him, walking away like I don’t give a damn. I can’t imagine a world where his hands don’t touch me, where his eyes don’t light up at the sight of me, where I’m not the one responsible for that sexy smirk.
Kip is mine. He has been since the moment we met.
And I can’t just walk away.
Not even for Erin.
“I care,” I say quietly, weakly, like a prized fighter tapping out in a choke hold. “I’ve cared about you for so long.”
Kip doesn’t face me, but his shoulders pull back, his stance straightening.
“I care that I hurt you, I care that even though I did, you still stuck around, and yes,” I admit, pushing away from the wall until I’m standing straight, too. “I care that Erin was here, that she was in your bed, because I don’t want anyone else in your bed but me.”
The dam doesn’t just crack — it crumbles, the once solid walls tumbling down and letting everything out that I’d fought to hold back.
“I don’t want anyone else in your arms but me,” I continue.
“I want to be the only girl in your head when you wake up and I… I was petrified, okay?” My stomach twists.
“I thought if I told you I wanted Adam, you would leave me alone. I thought you’d be pissed off and you’d be out of my life completely and I wouldn’t have to worry about feeling this.
And on the beach?” I shake my head. “I actually wanted you to be with Erin. It made sense. I figured it was your plan all along.”
Kip scoffs at that, still not facing me.
“No, I’m serious. It makes sense.” My insecurities float to the surface, and for once, I don’t cover them with a cocky facade.
“Compared to her, I’m nothing. And I was happy for you.
At least, that’s what I told myself. But I don’t know what to do, Kip, because I do care about you. ” I swallow. “But I can’t.”
“Why?” He finally faces me, and his aqua eyes are still wild, their intensity locked in on me.
“It’s complicated.”
What more can I say without telling him the truth?
Kip watches me for a beat, and then a long, frustrated sigh breaks through his flat lips. He takes one step toward me, then another, shaking his head as he descends. “I didn’t have sex with Erin, Skyler.”
My heart skips.