Chapter 72 - Kai
Kai
The bonfire I built isn’t doing all that much to ward off the cold. But fuck, I’m still loving it. Its flames are so hypnotic, neither of us has said a word for at least half an hour. But Haven isn’t dressed as warmly as I am, and when I see her shiver, I realize we’ll have to go inside soon.
Don’t wanna.
Inside is where shit unravels.
We ate the sandwiches in charged silence as we worked our way through the rest of the wine. But then it just sat in my stomach like a congealed mass, and I wanted to throw up just to be rid of it.
Thank God Haven said she wanted to swim in the ocean. When I cracked a smile for the first time in what felt like years, and told her she’d die trying, we both started laughing.
Felt like the glass of the snow globe we were trapped in finally burst.
I knew what I was doing to her back then, after I left Riverside. Knew it, because our separation nearly fucking killed me…and I knew she felt exactly the same.
But I didn’t have a choice.
My family shed Riverside like a snakeskin. I couldn’t mention it without getting a sour look from my dad. The kind of look that promised a backhand if I kept going.
And then there was Ezra.
If my parents were fighting a war against Riverside, then he was the fucking general of their army. He played Punch Buggy with me, except I’d get a fist in the side any time I mentioned Riverside, our old single-wide, or Haven.
I didn’t blame him back then, and I still don’t.
My memories of Riverside were the wood’s sun-dappled clearings, and Haven’s beautiful blue eyes.
His were nothing but pain.
But Haven is right.
I could have stood up for her. For Riverside.
I could have, should have, fought.
Except…
Losing Haven didn’t feel bad at first.
It felt…righteous. Like I’d chosen good over bad.
Dad hitting Ezra? Bad.
Mom standing idly by? Bad.
Me abandoning my brother? Bad.
Being with Haven? Good.
Chasing away my gloomy thoughts with games? Good.
Suddenly realizing Haven was a girl and I was a boy? Bad.
Thinking about doing adult things with her? Really bad.
Using our games to sate the curiosity that just kept growing and growing the older I got? So bad, it was criminal.
So, yeah, I should have fought. But once I realized I’d be fighting for something bad, I couldn’t. So, I just let it happen. And the longer we were apart, the easier it became. The more righteous I felt.
Now she’s expecting me to put all of that shit into words. And I know I have to try, because I owe her that much. But how am I supposed to admit that I was in love with her way before I should have been?
I want—need—her to see the good in me.
Not the bad I keep trying to convince myself isn’t there.
Haven shivers so loudly I hear her teeth chatter before she clenches her jaw.
I stand. Her shoulders slump. And there’s a knot in my throat because I don’t want to go back inside anymore than she does.
We belong in the wild.
Cool, salty air sliding over our skin. The patter of sand grains against our clothes when there’s a gust of wind. The puff of warm air as that same breeze stirs the heat of the fire, making the embers pop and spark.
Out here we can both pretend nothing else matters, just like we did when we were kids.
I don’t expect her to follow me as I walk back to the house.
And she doesn’t.
There’s such a suspicious frown on her face when I come back a few minutes later, like she’s wondering why I bothered returning.
I gesture for her to stand, and she steps aside, shaking off her clothes as I smooth down the bumpy sand where we’d been sitting, and lay down a blanket.
The staff that came to air out the place packed us a picnic basket.
We’d demolished most of the snacks while I gave Haven a tour of the beach house, but there’s still a bag of marshmallows and some skewers inside.
Haven pulls off her Uggs before stepping onto the blanket, plucking at her beige leggings before sitting cross-legged.
Beige isn’t exactly a flattering color, but I swear she can wear a fucking trash bag and she’d look hot. Actually, I’ve seen her in a trash bag at the Rain Dance, and I can confirm she was a stone-cold fox.
I’m grinning as I come to sit beside her.
“What’s so funny?”
“Your face when I asked you what size clothes you wore.”
“Super sus,” she says through a smile. “But at least I got some free shit out of it.” She points at me, eyes narrowed. “Clothes you owed me anyway, since you trashed my entire wardrobe.”
“That wasn’t my fau…” I trail off when she widens her eyes in warning. “Smores?”
I can’t stand marshmallows, but I know she loves them. Never knew candy could be so interactive until I watched her destroying a marshmallow for the first time. Watching her work her way through a bag of them was an education in torture.
For once, I’m glad the staff forgot about my preferences, because it means Haven has an entire bag of marshmallows to keep her happy.
She drags the picnic basket closer, but instead of grabbing the candy, takes out the thermal flask I’d put inside and shakes it so hard I’m expecting it to explode.
“What’s this?”
“Hot chocolate.”
“Forget the fucking marshmallows,” she mutters, immediately rooting around in the basket for cups.
Which I forgot to pack.
“Where are the—”
“We’ll have to share.” I take the flask from her, unscrewing the lid and using it as a cup to pour out a measure of the steaming hot cocoa. “Here.”
She sniffs it warily, takes a tiny sip, and nods. “At least it’s better than your cooking.”
“Excuse me,” I mutter, grabbing the lid from her. “It’s much fucking better than my cooking.”
“I mean, are you trying to claim insurance on the house or something? It’s like you were actively trying to start a fire back there.”
“Maintenance on this place is eye-watering. Would have been a blessing.”
“Disguised as arson?” she asks politely as I refill the lid for her.
“Keep going, and there’ll be news of a dead body in the papers this week.”
The side of her mouth perks up, but it’s not a true smile. And I know Haven has a dark sense of humor, so it’s not that she thinks my joke is crass.
That other shit is still bugging her.
What more does she fucking want from me? To spread out the coals and shuffle over them on my knees as I plead for forgiveness?
Guess I just have to figure it out.
I know women are supposed to be all mysterious and whatever, but this is fucking bullshit.
She holds out the cup to me, but I wave her away with a flick of my hand. She shrugs and drains the last of the hot chocolate, then swaps out the flask for the bag of marshmallows.
I watch her as she spears two of them onto a long skewer and sticks it in the fire. Flames paint her face orange, making the tiny smudge of hot chocolate at the corner of her mouth that much darker. I try not to let it bug me, but my eyes keep going back to it.
To her.
Like they always have.
Like they always will.
Until we inevitably have to part ways again.
She’s got at least two years of college left. I’ve got a few months. I might have lost the internship, but I’m still leaving Agony Hollow the day I graduate.
Abandoning her again.
“Shit,” Haven mutters, jerking the stick out of the fire.
Both marshmallows are ablaze, and she blows furiously at them, trying to put out the flames.
“You’re not going to eat that, are—“ I cut off with a groan as she gingerly pulls the crackling skin of a blackened marshmallow off its melted body and pops it into her mouth.
“Ow, ow…mmm...” When she glances at me and sees my deadpan stare, she shrugs and starts pulling the skin off the other marshmallow. “What?”
“And you were making fun of my cooking?” My eyes dart to the smoking marshmallows.
“This’s different.” She holds out what’s left of the gooey marshmallow to me. “I know you don’t like them, but just taste this.”
“Not a fucking chance.” I knock the stick away.
She drags the melted lump from the stick, giggles, and hides behind the back of her hand as she holds out the stick again for me to take the second one. “But it’s so good, Kai.”
“The fuck is wrong with you?” I bat away the stick, getting marshmallow on the sleeve of my hoodie. “Jesus, look what—”
Her pounce catches me completely off guard. We both fall over, me on my back and trying to turn my face away as she smears the melted marshmallow over my mouth. “It’s so yummy, Kai!” she shrieks, laughing so hard I can barely make out the words. “Don’t pretend you don’t love it, Kai!”
I push her off me, and she straddles my lap as she licks melted marshmallow off her fingers. When I try to wipe my mouth, I just get sticky candy all over my hand. I give my lips an experimental lick, and shudder at the sweetness.
“Drama queen,” she says, shifting from side to side in a little happy dance as she cleans her fingers.
“Stop it,” I grate, trying to use the sides of my hands to grab her hips so she’ll stop gyrating on my cock.
“Who doesn’t like marshmallows?”
“Me.” I use the back of my hand to wipe my mouth, but that just gets sticky too. “Jesus, this shit’s like fucking ectoplasm. How the hell do I get it off?”
“You eat it off.”
“I don’t wanna—“
She ducks down, propping herself up onto her elbows, our noses an inch apart. “By all means,” she drawls, gazing at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “Allow me.”
Before I can stop her, she drags her tongue up my chin and over my lips. Suddenly, all I can think about is how it would feel if my cock was covered in melted marshmallow.
A pulse of blood hardens my dick, sending it bobbing off my lap as it tests the tensile strength of my Brunello sweats.
Thank God she’s not sitting on my crotch anymore.
I freeze, caught between pushing her off and pulling her closer.
Ever since Jace interrupted us this morning, any touching between us has been accidental. Or pretend-accidental, anyway. Like the way our hands briefly connect when we pass things between us.
Despite how many times we’ve fucked, I have no idea what this is.
It feels like something.