Cassie
Last time I was in Key West, Adam kissed me.
I close my eyes, feeling the salty ocean air breeze across my face as that night comes back in blinding color.
I remember the way he looked at me before his lips met mine, that crease in his brows, like he knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t help himself.
I remember the way we both exhaled, the way my stomach flipped, how my hands shook as I climbed to straddle him on that dark, secluded beach.
All we did was kiss.
But it wasn’t just kissing.
It was an exchange of souls, a trading of hearts. I gave him mine, and he handed me his, and even though things were complicated then — I was with Grayson, he’d just broken up with Skyler — we made a silent promise not to hurt each other.
And we both lied.
My eyes flutter open, and I sigh, leaning over the railing and letting my eyes drift lazily along the different vendors set up at Mallory Square below us.
It’s the last day of our cruise, and we all spent the day frolicking on Duval Street before retreating to the boat just in time to push off from shore.
I watch as the last few people board the ship, the door shutting, and the captain announces we’ll pull away in just ten short minutes.
There’s a party on the pool deck, and all of my sisters are down there making the most of their last night. They’re day drunk and happy, celebrating an incredible trip, and I should be with them.
But I can’t be.
I can’t fake a smile anymore, or shove another shot down my throat when everything I taste makes me want to vomit. The truth is, I can’t stop thinking about Adam, about last night, about what we said and what we didn’t say. Everything’s a mess.
First and foremost, me.
So, I snuck up to the very top deck, and while the party rages on just below me, I watch the coastline below, thinking of the last time I was in Key West and how I’d been just as much of a mess then.
Yet, somehow, I’d been happier.
Being with Adam, no matter how wrong it was, always made me happier.
I sigh, trailing one finger over the cool railing.
Suddenly, there’s a loud clanking noise behind me, followed by a curse muttered under someone’s breath.
I turn, one brow cocked as I take in Adam shuffling toward me, a giant, black duffle bag hanging from his shoulder.
It hits his thigh, bouncing off awkwardly, and he curses again before dropping it to the deck when he’s standing a few feet away from me.
My instinct is to laugh, to smile and ask him what the hell he’s doing, but as soon as the thought passes my mind, my smile dies before it’s even born.
His messy hair, his dark, intoxicating eyes — shadowed and dark, as if he hasn’t slept — they make me want to forget what happened.
They make me want to throw my arms around him, kiss him, hold him, spend the night in his arms.
But I refuse to do any of that.
Instead, I cross my arms over my chest, leaning one hip against the railing as I face him.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he pants, running a flustered hand back through his hair as he eyes the duffle bag at his feet. He points to it like a curse. “Dragging this sonofabitch with me.”
I shift, glancing at the bag before I take in his haggard appearance again. Though I know it’s impossible, it almost feels like he’s lost muscle mass since yesterday, like he’s shrunk three inches, his entire body shriveling away before my very eyes. He hasn’t slept, that much I know.
He can join the club.
“I just needed some time to think,” I answer softly.
Adam swallows, nodding just once. “Good. I’m glad you’re up here, away from everyone.” He pauses, wringing his hands together. “Cassie, I am so sorry for hurting you. Again.”
I close my eyes on his words, pressing my fingers to my temple. “Adam…”
“No, please. Please,” he begs. “Just, I know you said I have to earn it. Earn you. And you’re right. Can you please just give me the next five minutes to try to do just that?” Adam’s shoulders fall. “Or at least, to try to start, anyway.”
I don’t nod, don’t give him a verbal agreement, but I also don’t turn away. I just fold my arms over my chest again, eyes falling to the bag at his feet before they settle on his tired eyes once more.
Adam sighs, his shoulders tugging back like he’s preparing to deliver a speech he’s practiced for years. His eyes level with mine, tender and soft, just like they always are when he looks at me. They’re like home, that familiar, comfortable peace that exists in no other place, in no other person.
Just him.
Always.
“Ever since we met, we’ve played games with each other’s hearts,” he starts, reaching into the bag at his feet. He pulls out the board game, Clue, and holds it between his hands. “At first, I didn’t have a clue how to handle what I felt for you.”
A smile threatens to break on my lips, but I cover it with my fingertips, trying with all my might not to let the fact that Adam is insanely adorable affect me.
“If I’m being honest,” he continues. “I think I did know, I think I always have. But, I was scared.”
He reaches into the bag again, this time pulling out the board game, Snakes and Ladders.
“Our entire relationship has been full of ups and downs. It seems like when I climb a ladder to reach you, you slide down into a pit of snakes.” He coughs. “Clay, Grayson.” He coughs again.
I smirk.
“And just when I slide down to you, just when our hands touch, it’s like you climb a ladder, and you’re out of reach again.” He pauses, shaking his head. “It’s like we’re always just out of reach.”
He drops the box, reaching in to pull out Chess, next.
“So, I try and try to set up a strategy, to put all the pieces in place. I convinced myself if I waited, if I let Grayson fuck up on his own, you’d be with me in the end.
But I couldn’t stop myself from interfering.
And even though, in time, he did end up proving that he was a douchebag,” he says, holding up one finger.
“I shouldn’t have tried to rush that. I shouldn’t have been wishing for him to hurt you, Cassie, just because I wanted the chance to have you. ”
My heart twists with the thought of Grayson, that wound still tender, still healing.
“As if that wasn’t bad enough,” he says, reaching in the bag for a little foam football.
“When I finally had you, instead of being your teammate, I tried to be your coach, instead. I tried to tell you how to run your plays, how to live your life, how to find yourself — when, honestly, it was just because I was scared.”
I frown, tilting my head to one side.
“I was,” he repeats, nodding. “God, Cassie, I was petrified to be with you. To love you. Because I knew that somehow, some way, I’d fuck it all up and I’d lose you.
Up until this point, I’ve never had the chance to make you mine — not truly.
And the fact of the matter is that even though it’s all I’ve wanted since the very moment I met you, it’s also my biggest fear.
To have you, really have you, and then lose you. For good.”
I roll my lips, fighting against the tears blurring my vision as Adam pours his heart out to me. It makes sense, that fear, because I know I’ve had it, too. But the more he talks, the more he explains, the more my heart retreats.
“And I know,” he says, dropping the football and pulling a small, wooden bat out next. “That I haven’t just had three strikes. No, I’ve had three strikeouts. I haven’t lost just one at bat, I’ve lost an entire game.”
He rears back, holding the bat high above his head before slamming it down on the deck.
I jump, he screams, the bat staying fully in tact as he drops it to the deck and rubs his right wrist.
“Oh, my God, Adam, are you okay?”
I move toward him, but he holds up one hand to stop me, gritting through the pain.
“Stop,” he grunts. “I’m trying to grand gesture here, okay?”
I chuckle, shaking my head and leaning back against the rail to let him finish.
Adam shakes his head, cursing as he shoves the still-whole bat back into the bag.
“What I’m trying to say is, I’m done playing games, Cassie.
With your head, with your heart, with our relationship.
I want to be with you. Really be with you — no matter what the risk, no matter what the odds, no matter what the future might hold. ”
He’s shaking now as he bends to retrieve one last box, and he holds it up with a sad, hopeful smile.
“I don’t know everything. I don’t know if we’ll make it, or if you’ll change your mind, or if I’ll be a perfect boyfriend or fuck up time and time again.” He shrugs. “I can’t predict what will happen. All I do know is that I love you, Cassie McBee.”
I choke on a sob, the tears flooding my eyes and spilling over without a chance to hold them at bay.
“I love you,” he repeats, stepping forward, the game still between his hands. “And if we are stuck in the game of Life,” he says, tapping the box. “There’s no one else I want to play it with.”
Smiling, I cover my mouth with one hand, glancing at the box as he drops it at his feet and steps toward me. His hands reach for mine, both of us shaking, and when his thumbs smooth over the skin of my wrists, I sigh.
“I can’t take back anything that I’ve done, but I can tell you that I am sorry. And I can promise you that I will do everything I can to not be so fucking stupid anymore,” he says, and we both chuckle. “If you will give me the chance, I will love you like you deserve to be loved.”
More tears slip from my eyes as my head falls forward, and he meets me in the middle, our foreheads touching, eyes closing. Adam rubs my hands with his, pulling me closer, his arms slipping around me and pulling me into him.
And I want to stay.
I want to stay right here, in his arms, in the comfort of his words forever.
I want to plant a flag, plant some roots, and settle down for life.
Because in my heart I know that he’s it — he’s all I’ve ever wanted, and he’s everything that’s wrong and right and all that I desire. Adam Brooks is my soul mate.
But he’s my Kryptonite, too.
I reach around my back, unlacing his fingers and dropping them at his side before I step back. My heart aches in protest the moment we break contact, but I stamp that little sucker down, letting my head lead this time.
“I’m sorry, Adam,” I whisper.
I glance at him with the words, and immediately wish I hadn’t. The way his face breaks, the slump in his shoulders, the tremor of his hands as he reaches for me again, shake me to my very core. But I step back, away, swiping the new tears from my cheeks.
“I don’t believe you.”
Silence.
Not just between us, but in the entire world. It’s like with those four words, I stole time and space, created a vacuum that took everything away. There are no breaths, no sun setting off in the distance, no music playing below, nowhere to exist after this moment.
It’s all gone.
Adam’s eyes well, and I can’t even beg him not to cry, knowing it will break me, before one tear slides down his cheek, running the length of his jaw and falling to the deck below.
“You don’t mean that,” he croaks, shaking his head. “You don’t… you can’t…”
“I do,” I say, swallowing down a fresh wave of tears. “I’m sorry, Adam. I’m sorry. I just can’t do this anymore.”
The vacuum breaks, the noise crashes back in all at once, the sun sets in the distance, and I turn away from the boy I’ve always turned to.
Then, I run.