Chapter 27
KENDALL
Patterson shows up on Tuesday night with Thai food and a bruise forming along his jaw from his game.
I pull him inside before he gets a hello out.
We make it to the couch, somehow end up in the kitchen with me pressed against the counter, then stumble to my bed.
The Thai food got cold on my counter, but by the time we eat, we’re both starving.
He feeds me a bite with his fingers. I lick the sauce off his thumb, and we feed one another until it’s gone.
He stays that night, and the next, and the one after that.
By the weekend, his toothbrush is in my bathroom, and his running shoes live by my door, but neither of us mentions what’s happening. We enjoy every minute.
While he’s at practice, I finish my painting for the commission. Even after that, my hands won’t rest, and I find myself reaching for the same colors I always go to. My favorite is the greenish-blue, the color of his eyes when they are hit by a certain light.
The Secret Lover collection has grown from five to eight. They’re currently living in my closet because I can’t explain what they mean to anyone yet. If Addison saw them, she’d see straight through me. She’d know. And then all my secrets would be out in the open.
How do I explain that my hands paint him without permission? That his jaw, cheeks, mouth, hands are set to muscle memory in the same way as landing a triple axel. Every blank canvas begs me to paint him. Creatively obsessed. It’s the only way to explain it.
Sunday morning comes quick. He’s sprawled across my queen bed, hogging the blankets, looking obscenely good with his hair wrecked and pillow creases on his cheek. My phone vibrates, and I almost ignore it, but I know I can’t. I roll over and grab it off the nightstand.
Addison
Sara Janes’s at 10 a.m. Pancakes and gossip—don’t forget! NO CANCELING!
It’s been a week since I’ve seen her, and we’ve barely talked since the gallery.
Kendall
Don’t worry. I’ll be there. PROMISE!
I put my feet on the edge of the bed and pull my hair back into a ponytail.
“Where are you going?” Patterson’s voice is rough and sexy with sleep. He reaches for me without opening his eyes, fingers gently catching my wrist.
I grin. “Brunch with my bestie.”
“Cancel. Please?”
“Um … no. Besties before bros.”
He tugs me back down onto the mattress and rolls on top of me, pinning me with his weight. His skin is warm, and he smells like my sheets.
“Pretty please,” he mumbles as he kisses my neck—his scruff tickles.
“Nooo! I can’t! Seriously.” I’m laughing, shoving at his chest, but he’s dead weight and not budging. “Patterson, I have to go. Plus, I want to.”
He bites my earlobe, and I yelp.
“Not fair. You were supposed to be mine all weekend,” he playfully whines.
“Quit being greedy.” I shove harder, and he rolls off, grinning like he won something. “Are you going home?”
“Nah, I’ll be here. I’ll wait for you to get back so I can properly say goodbye.”
“You’d better be,” I say.
He catches my hand before I can stand and pulls me to his mouth, where our lips slide together.
“That won’t work.”
“Worth a try,” he says, smirking. “But you should go before I capture you instead.”
“Your sister would come searching for me,” I tell him. “Trust me.”
He chuckles. “True. Have fun.”
“I will. Two hours, max.” I admire his naked body in my bed. “Mmm. Just wow.”
I quickly get dressed, then take a rideshare across town to meet Addison. When I arrive, she’s already seated and halfway through a mimosa. I slide into the booth in front of her, and she looks up from her phone. A wide smile spreads over her lips.
“Damn.” She studies me. “Things with my brother must be going really well this week. You’re literally glowing.”
“Things with your brother are great,” I say.
She said “brother,” and so did I. When I think about Patterson, I’m nearly giddy.
“Wow. You two are going to get married,” she says.
“That would be wild.” I pick up the menu even though I order the same thing every time.
“I have noticed he’s been coming to the city a lot lately.” She sips her mimosa.
“He has?” I ask.
And she tilts her head at me. “Yeah, silly, to see you.”
“Oh, of course,” I say with a chuckle.
“I keep thinking about the train rides he’s taken lately when he used to complain about the commute to Brooklyn. Guess love can change people,” she tells me.
“Guess so,” I say.
“I’ve been thinking about your commission ending soon and your lease being up in May. Are you staying in the city, or are you going to be convinced to move to Boston? Because I really think you shouldn’t move to be with him.”
“What?” I ask, somewhat confused by this. “Why not?”
“Because you changed your entire life for him before, Keke. Don’t do it again. If he wants to be with you, he needs to be willing to come to you. I’ve seen my brother more since you two got together than I have in years,” she says. “Our weekly dinners have been really nice.”
Then I realize that Jameson really has been in the city. It’s not just a lie to cover for Patterson.
“Don’t tell him I told you because he said he hadn’t discussed this with you yet, but he told me he was considering moving back to New York. Apparently, he didn’t sell his penthouse at The Park. Can you believe that?”
My eyes widen.
“Oh shit. You must not have known that. Shit. Okay, don’t tell him I told you that either,” she says.
And I try to understand what it means that Jamie is moving back. After things ended, we both left the city. Then he got hurt, stopped playing hockey professionally, and moved to Boston. He’s been there ever since.
A mimosa is placed in front of me, and I take a big gulp.
“I ordered for us,” she says. “We always get the same thing.”
“You’re amazing,” I tell her. “Tell me. Did you finish the subway series? I’m curious about it.”
“Yes, thank goodness. I finished it two days ago. I’ve done nothing but sleep. I’m exhausted.”
I chuckle, and she launches into a story about a woman she painted on the L train—a grandmother who fell asleep, clutching bodega flowers. I listen and laugh, loving being with Addison.
“Oh, I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day about hosting your own gallery with lesser-known artists. What if we did it? And we both headlined?”
My mouth falls open, and I burst into laughter. “Yes. Oh my God. Seriously, say no more.”
“I know the gallery owner, and she told me we could host it at the beginning of July. She needs a deposit!” She’s so excited.
“Actually, I already paid the deposit with a maybe on the date. And I kinda already put your name on as a headliner. So, um … can you get a series together by then? I know you’re finishing your commission and—”
“I finished my auction pieces and even delivered extras for the hell of it. So, that’s a yes. Please count me in.” I move to her side of the booth and wrap my arms around her, squeezing her so tight. “I have to be dreaming.”
“I kept thinking, why not? Why not us?” she says. “You’re one of the best, Keke.”
“That means a lot coming from you,” I genuinely say.
“We deserve this,” she tells me. “Instead of sitting back and waiting, I think we should try to make our own magic.”
I squeeze her one more time before sliding back to my side of the booth. Our food arrives, and we dig in.
“Hey,” she says between bites. “Has Damien tried to contact you or anything since that night?”
I frown. “No. Thankfully. I’m hoping he leaves me alone.”
“I saw the photos of you two. It was like he was setting that up to piss off Patterson,” she says. “I dunno; it felt like a message for him. Damien and Jamie are actually friends.”
I don’t know what to say. “You’re right. With the game on Friday, I’m sure he’s trying to aggravate him. Especially after all those interviews Damien has been giving, talking shit. But this is how these hockey rivalries work. They look for any cheap opportunity to mess with each other.”
She shakes her head. “Proof that men are only good for one thing.”
I burst into laughter. “And some aren’t even good at that.”
“Speaking of,” she says, “are you sitting with me for the Angels versus Cobras game or sitting with your dad?”
“I planned to watch the game with you,” I confirm.
“And Jamie,” she says.
“Of course,” I say, smiling while my mind races.
Jameson being at the game means we’ll have to perform. We’ll be in the family section, and he’ll have to play the role of doting boyfriend. It’s really the last thing Patterson needs while having to deal with Damien circling him like a shark on the ice.
“Yeah, I’m trying to find a date so I won’t be third-wheeling you two lovebirds,” Addison continues. “Try not to be too gross about it.”
“Excuse me, I am not into PDA.”
“Please. Jamie won’t be able to keep his hands off of you. I know how you used to be.” She laughs.
I look down at my pancakes and pour more syrup on top. “It should be a really good game,” I manage.
Addison doesn’t notice how I change the subject. “It’ll be fun. We’ll get overpriced beer and scream at the refs, just like we used to do in our twenties.”
“Without getting black-out drunk though,” I tell her. “My father would fucking kill me.”
She chuckles. “Right. We’ll limit it.”
When the check comes, she snatches it up. Before we leave, we give each other a tight hug.
“Thank you for being my bestie.”
“Of course,” I tell her. “We should do this again soon.”
“I’m always down,” she says. “Tell my brother I said hi.”
“I will.”
The cab ride home takes forever. I watch the city slide past the window and think about Friday.
About Jameson flying in and how we all need to get on the same page beforehand.
We need a game plan, or this whole thing could blow up in our faces.
But maybe if Jamie is there, Damien will be confused by the entire situation. It could help.