Chapter 27
I’m Mad At You
Nate to Kai: You’re allowed to be happy, you know. [delivered]
Tess
“I can’t believe I’m only just hearing that you had sex!” Carina’s screech is so loud I swear I would’ve heard it without the phone.
“I kinda had a lot going on, Cari.”
She grumbles, the sound muffled but still somehow filled with concern. “Don’t even remind me. You’re gonna send me to an early grave with all this worrying.”
I clutch my chest dramatically, even though she can’t see me. “I knew you loved me.”
She scoffs. “Of course I do. Was that ever a question?”
“Well… I wasn’t sure a year ago. You used to reply to my messages about a fifth of the time.”
Carina laughs. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t in a good place then. And you were… a lot.”
“How dare you?” I cry out with mock outrage. “I am not a lot!” (I am).
“You quite literally are, but whatever helps you sleep at night.”
The conversation stalls for a second before I ask, “How’s Kai?”
“Annoyed with Nate’s fussing. He’s like a mother hen. Honestly, I think Kai might kill him.”
“Has he said anything about me?”
There’s a tightness in my chest as I wait for her reply, a nervous ball of hope and fear.
“Oh my god! You actually like him, don’t you?”
“Shut up!”
“Be honest with me. You have feelings for him?”
“Yes. Fine. Okay. I have feelings for him.”
Carina squeals, and I roll my eyes, but there's a hesitant smile ghosting across my lips.
“But it’s not like it matters anyway. We’re too different. He’s not interested.”
“You didn’t see him when you were missing, babe. He’s interested.”
“Funny way of showing it,” I mutter, bitterness creeping in.
There’s movement on the other end of the line, followed by muffled voices.
“Sort… shit… out.” That’s Carina, her voice urgent. “... like her?”
“What… problem?”
A masculine voice, low and gruff: “Not… simple.”
Then—
“Tess?”
Kai.
I freeze. My stomach twists. Words vanish from my mouth, and my brain clatters with thoughts that won’t settle. I’m hyper-aware of every second stretching between us.
“Hey,” I say, the word coming out shakier than I want.
There’s a long pause. I swear my heart’s beating in my throat. I want to say something meaningful, something cool, but my brain refuses to work.
Kai clears his throat. “How are you?”
I take the lifeline. “I’m good. Bored. Nico's good company though. We played Monopoly today. I won, obviously. He tried cheating, but I wasn’t having any of it.”
“Then?”
“I tried reading, but the only books here are historical fiction. Like, where’s the tension? The angst? The smut? Priorities, people.”
Kai chokes out a laugh, and a flicker of warmth ignites in my chest. “You read smut?”
“Sometimes. Not... like, all the time.”
“Good to know.”
The conversation shifts into a more comfortable, teasing rhythm. I’m oversharing, but I can’t stop.
“What have you been doing?”
“Trying not to smother Nate with one of the pillows he keeps fluffing.”
I laugh. “But… you love fluffed pillows.”
Kai practically growls into the phone. “I do… but he won’t stop hovering.”
“He cares.”
There’s a noise on his end, a kind of reluctant acknowledgment, but he doesn’t say anything more.
The silence stretches.
This is my moment.
“We’re friends, right?”
It’s a loaded question, and I can feel the weight of it. His pause lingers longer than it should. “Yeah…”
“Friends tell other friends when they’re mad at them, right?”
“You’re mad at me?”
“I’m mad at you.”
“Why?”
You can do this. You are a twenty-nine-year-old woman. You can tell a man you have real feelings for him.
I take a breath, my voice suddenly trembling. “Because I don’t want to just be friends. But you keep kissing me, or fucking me, while not wanting anything more.”
Silence hangs between us like a thick fog.
“It’s just that… I like you.” The words start tumbling out.
“I probably shouldn’t. And I definitely shouldn’t be admitting it to you.
But I think sometimes my brain doesn’t really have a filter, so I just speak without really thinking until someone stops me.
Which most people do because I really can talk for England and—”
“Hurricane?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.”
“Okay,” I whisper, my heart racing.
“I like you too, alright? But I… I don’t do relationships.”
“Ever?”
“Never have.”
“Oh.”
My heart cracks.
“But when you went missing, I—” He exhales, sharp and shaky. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”
There’s a pause.
“So yeah. Clearly, I’m shit at staying unattached.”
“You’re attached to me?”
“Very.”
Another pause
“So now what?” I ask, unsure of the answer.
“Well,” he says, voice rough but warm, “you’re on the other side of the world.”
“Still…”
“Hurricane?”
“Yeah?”
He exhales, low and rough. “I’m tired of pretending I don’t care.”
My breath catches.
“I care about you. Too much, probably.”
A beat. Then, a hint of a smirk in his voice.
“So, what do you say? Feel like making terrible life choices with me?”
A watery laugh escapes me. “Is that you asking me out?”
“Yeah.” He sounds almost shy. Almost. “Be mine, Hurricane.”
“I thought you’d never ask.”