21. Kaitlyn
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Kaitlyn
NOW
I’m sitting crisscross on Hunter’s bed as he finishes getting ready for bed, his pajama pants hanging low on his waist. It’s starting to hit me he’ll be leaving soon, and our days of spending every day together are numbered again.
I know it wouldn’t be different if I were going back to Duke, but for some reason, it feels different this time. I have a sinking feeling I can’t get out of my head.
Hunter’s popularity soared when he made waves as a starter his freshman year, but last season it was like a spotlight shone on him.
Things only got crazier from there with the Heisman nomination last season as a sophomore, and I worry about the effects the pressure will have on him.
Seeing how well JJ hid his struggles from everyone last year was really eye opening, but Hunter brushes it off every time someone brings up the blog posts speculating if he’s really the player of his generation.
Maybe I’d feel better if we were on more solid ground, but I can’t shake the uneasy feeling I have.
I’m already stressed about Javi’s surgery tomorrow, and dinner with everyone was a nice distraction, but I’ve grown really attached to him.
Hunter drags a hand through his damp hair, adjusting his glasses as he turns toward me. I try to muster a smile, but I’m sad. So many things are changing soon, and I don’t know if I’m ready for them.
“Are you okay?” Hunter asks, sitting down next to me.
“I’m fine. You going to be awake for dawn patrol with me?” I ask, trying to deflect from the question. Unfortunately, Hunter knows me too well. He rests a hand on my thigh, and the scrape of his calluses makes me shiver.
“Hey, talk to me please?”
“I’m going to miss you,” I admit, and Hunter has the nerve to smile. I force a frown, wishing he didn’t look so damn cute in his glasses. “Why are you smiling? I’m sad. You’re supposed to be making me feel better.”
“Because you’re gonna miss me,” he says, like it’s obvious. I didn’t think being sad about him leaving is something worth smiling over, but maybe that’s just me.
“Maybe I won’t miss you.”
It’s infuriating how his smile widens, and I move to stand up, but with a quick tug, Hunter pulls me into his lap.
His arms fold around me like a warm blanket as he presses a chaste kiss to my temple.
“You absolutely will miss me, just like I’m going to miss you,” he says, and I feel a little better.
“I still don’t understand why you’re smiling.”
“Do you think that after all this time I don’t know when something’s wrong? I know things have been kinda rocky between us lately, but we’re gonna be okay. I’ll come home when I can,” Hunter teases. After how poorly he handled it at first, now he’s the one handling this better than I am.
“At least you’ll only be two hours away,” I say, trying to believe him.
Hunter presses another kiss to the spot where his shirt has slipped off my shoulder. “Kait, it’s going to be okay. I’ll only be a phone call away.”
“I know. I guess I’m getting worked up over nothing,” I say, giving him a smile. I reach up to slide his glasses back into place, and the corners of his eyes crinkle.
“I wouldn’t call it nothing,” he says, and I appreciate him making me feel better about the insecurities I’m having because of a choice I made. “You said the gallery was fun, right? Think of how much time you’ll have to work on your art. Maybe you could find a local painting class or something?”
It was fun. I’ve never fully appreciated or understood how much work went into making sure everything runs smoothly at the gallery.
There’s a section dedicated to Thalia’s photography, but my mom and her make a point of featuring local artists in the space as well.
Right now, there’s a wall of watercolors I can’t stop staring at.
“I think that’s a great idea. Thank you,” I say, feeling my heart soften.
“Of course. Besides, Mirabelle already told me she’s planning on spending a lot more time around here while Henry’s out of town for away games. You’ll be sick of her before you know it. And . . . you’ll have Bailey to keep you company.”
I’m surprised to hear him include Bailey, but I love him more for it.
“Do you promise you’re okay with me spending time with Bailey?” I saw how Hunter looked at him during the dinner, and it didn’t look like he was very okay with it then.
His touch on my cheek is gentle as he turns my face to his. “I promise I’m okay. I feel better after talking to you about what was going on with me,” Hunter says, and I’m glad, but I can’t shake the bad feeling I have.
Right now, as I stare into his eyes, all I can think about is the intensity that lurked behind Bailey’s when he said, Ask me again why I left.
Why can’t I just let this go? Bailey is the last person I should be thinking about right now.
I swallow the lump in my throat, trying to will away all the questions lingering on the tip of my tongue.
“You know I love you, right?” he asks, and I do.
“Enough to wake up early with me to go surfing before Javi’s surgery?” I ask, and he huffs a quiet laugh.
“We’ll see.” Hunt lifts me up, walking around to the top of his bed to set me down. “Do you think we could find some more of those rug cleaning videos you like to watch?” he asks, and a smile peels across my face.
“I knew you were watching over my shoulder.”
Hunter laughs, pulling back the covers for me. “It’s hard to look away from how filthy some of them are. I swear they make them that dirty on purpose.”
I curl into his side, resting my head on his warm chest as I pull up the cleaning videos on my phone. Hunter wraps an arm around me, taking the phone to hold it where both of us can see. I hold onto his arm around me, sinking into the familiarity of this moment with him.
Maybe if I don’t let go of him, nothing will change, even if everything feels like it already is.
Hunter didn’t wake up when I rolled out of bed, and I took that as a sign his insomnia had kept him awake most of the night.
He’s usually a light sleeper, but when he didn’t even stir, I left him to sleep a little longer while I changed into a swimsuit I keep here, and escaped to the one place where I can always clear my head.
I’m not surprised to see Thalia sitting in a rocking chair on the wraparound porch, holding a mug of coffee in her hands as she watches the horizon.
She turns toward me, hearing the squeak of the door as it shuts behind me.
A warm smile forms on her face when we make eye contact, but there’s an unspoken agreement that in this moment, there’s nothing that needs to be said.
I don’t struggle with insomnia like most of the Walkers seem to, but I’ve always been an early riser.
Before the Walkers moved here full-time after Sebastian’s retirement, Thalia gave me a key to the shed where they store everyone’s surfing equipment for my fourteenth birthday.
Henry’s had one for as long as I can remember, but after he went to college, it was a lot harder to find my way to the ocean at the crack of dawn.
My parents live inland, and despite having a pool in our backyard, I’ve always preferred the ocean. It always has a way of making me feel better, and my idea of a perfect day starts with surfing.
By bike, it would only take less than twenty minutes to get here, and with the key, I could surf any day of the year that I wanted to.
The ocean seems to always make things better.
Hearing the waves and feeling the breeze kiss my cheeks is something I’m not sure I can ever live without.
It was one of the hardest parts of being at Duke the last two years because of how consumed by homesickness I would be when I would have to go longer than anyone should without taking a swim.
I leave my flip flops at the shed after grabbing my board, yet when I make it to the water, I’m frozen in my tracks at the sight of Bailey dragging in his board through the surf. He sets it in the sand and braces his hands on his knees.
Of course he’s awake.
The number of times we’ve surfed together on this beach is greater than I could ever hope to count, so I should have expected him to be out here .
Bailey straightens, dragging a hand through his hair, still not noticing me. It’s crazy how different he looks after being home for a month and a half, his lean body starting to fill out with the help of consistent meals. Even the way B carries himself is different.
Fuck, I know how wrong it is to be standing here watching him, noticing things I shouldn’t, but I’m frozen.
How different would everything be if he hadn’t pushed me away three years ago?
The question isn’t a fair one, but it’s haunted me more than I’d like to admit.
I can tell the moment he sees me because he rubs at his eyes like he can’t believe I’m standing here. “Kait?” he calls out, taking a few steps closer to me.
“Hey, Walker,” I greet, trying to sound as normal as possible. “How’s the surf?”
He smiles, and the soft morning glow makes him look like he’s straight out of a dream. “Nothing too crazy this morning. I think I’ve figured out how to stay on my board again.”
“Nice,” I say, nodding my head as I look around. I can spot a few other surfers in the distance, but this stretch of beach is private, so unless people take a boat out here, you can’t get to it any other way. “Is it cool if I join you?” I ask, dropping my water bottle in the sand next to his.
“You don’t have to ask me for permission. The ocean doesn’t belong to anyone.”
“Thanks,” I say, offering him a brief smile. I don’t expect him to wait for me while I pull my hair back into a French braid, tying it off with the hair tie on my wrist, but he still does.