14. Kendall
Kendall
The next week goes by incredibly slow. The long hours at the legal firm drone on and I look forward to the one day I have off with Akio.
He and I stick to our normal schedule and routines as if our world hasn’t just imploded.
As if I haven’t spent the last few days texting Kai, talking to him on the phone whenever he has a spare minute, and getting my hopes up that maybe we could have a future together.
I make it a priority to watch his games and he plays just as fiercely as he ever has.
Of all of his professional hockey games, I’ve only missed a few.
The day before he’s due to arrive home, my body starts buzzing with anticipation and excitement.
The only thing I can think about is seeing Kai again, having him in my apartment, meeting Akio.
Unable to calm my nerves, I decide to go for a run after work.
Maybe that will help me clear my head and gain some clarity.
Three miles in, I’ve worked up a sweat and managed to expel some of the nervous energy from my body.
Cutting off Drake’s angelic voice in the middle of “Make Me Proud” is an incoming phone call from Kai.
“Hello?” I say, almost completely out of breath. Apparently, I need to do more cardio.
“Hi, are you okay?” he pauses. “You sound…busy.”
“Just a little winded—I’m out for a run, but it’s okay. How are you?” I blurt out, stopping to sit on a nearby bench.
“Good, happy to be coming home tomorrow. How are you guys?”
“We’re good. Nothing new here,” I reply, moving the phone between my ear and shoulder so I can rub my gloved hands together.
“I’m wondering if tomorrow would be a good day to come over and meet Akio?” he asks hopefully. I can hear other guys, probably his teammates chatting and laughing in the background.
“I don’t know if tomorrow will work but I’m off on Tuesday, if you want to come over then?” I suggest, realizing I’m twirling my hair as I talk to him. What am I, twelve with a school girl crush? Then I remember Kai was my first real crush. He was my first real everything.
“Sure. What time?”
“He usually naps from 12-2 give or take. So any time after two. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, that’s perfect. I’ll be there shortly after two.” There’s a long pause. “I’m excited to see you guys.”
“Me too,” I respond.
***
The next day, I’m a complete mess and Tuesday is no better.
I spill coffee all over my shirt. I put orange juice in Akio’s milk cup, and after realizing I’ve lost my phone charger, I find it in the freezer.
I spend the roughly hour and a half that Akio is napping searching for the perfect outfit and attempting to make myself look cute.
I settle for skinny jeans and what appears to be a clean enough eggplant sweater.
Pearl earrings that Kai gave me for Christmas a few years ago complete the look.
I pull my curls up into a tight bun and apply lip gloss and some mascara.
I look in the mirror and shrug, thinking this is as good as it’s going to get and then I remember Kai has seen me at my absolute worst.
Two minutes later, there’s a knock on my door.
I take three deep breaths before I open it and tell myself that everything will be okay, no matter what happens.
And then I see him and realize my heart is most definitely not okay.
It’s rioting wildly in my chest about to lose control like a runaway freight train.
He’s standing in the doorway, a gorgeous bouquet in one hand and multiple shopping bags in the other, his charcoal eyes gleaming with something I can’t quite put my finger on.
Looking at him is like looking at the sun; he’s that fucking beautiful.
Mesmerizing really. He’s living proof that god, the universe, whoever absolutely played favorites.
With his chiseled jaw cut from glass, plush kissable lips, perfectly angled cheekbones, and the darkest eyes framed by thick luscious lashes.
The kind that no man has any business having.
I could get lost in his eyes no matter how many times I stare at them.
And that jagged slice that cuts through his eyebrow, what is it about that fucking scar that could bring me to my knees?
Maybe it’s the reminder that in all his perfection, he’s still perfectly imperfect. Still a little rough around the edges.
He’s wearing a black wool peacoat over a navy button up with fitted jeans.
His cheeks are flushed and his nose red from the cold.
And he is still without question, the sexiest man I’ve ever met.
I rake my eyes over him twice and before I can do it a third time, he smiles and says, “Can I come in or are you still busy checking me out?”
“Uh, yes. Please come in, come in.” I laugh a shrill high-pitched laugh that I instantly regret. “Do you need help with any of this?” I ask, reaching for the bags.
“No, I’ve got it.” He steps through the doorway and I lead him to the small kitchen.
“You can just put them on the table.” He sets them down and moves toward me, wrapping me in a tender hug. God, he smells amazing.
“I wasn’t checking you out, you know. I was…
” I struggle to find any words because checking him out was exactly what I was doing.
His voice, his scent, the feeling of being in his arms again, the thud of his heart beneath my ear—they are all melting my brain cells, turning me into a pile of wordless goo.
Jesus Christ, Kendall. Get it together.
“It’s okay,” he whispers against my temple. “I was doing the same thing to you.”
I take a step back from him, finally peering into his midnight eyes and bite my bottom lip.
“I spent more time than I’d like to admit getting ready today,” I confess, feeling my cheeks start to heat up.
I don’t know why I tell him—but his admission that he was blatantly checking me out makes me feel like I can be honest and vulnerable with him.
“You look amazing. Are those the earrings I gave you for Christmas a while back?” he wonders, lightly caressing my ear.
A rush travels through my body as the feeling of his fingers on my skin threatens to destabilize me.
I’m not prepared for this. Him being in my world, in our space.
Like it isn’t both the easiest and hardest thing I’ve ever done.
I’m not sure anything would have prepared me for him.
His overwhelming presence, the comfort and familiarity of his touch, and these small, intimate moments that feel like they’re happening in slow motion.
“Yes,” I respond, beaming at him. He pulls his hand away, and I miss it immediately.
Nostalgia for what we used to be mixed with grief for what might have been start to pull on the strings of my heart. Something harder and unnamed, rough and raw reaches up to grip me by the throat and choke me up a bit. I can’t be the only one feeling this way.
“Weird, this is weird, right?” I blurt out. His handsome smile starts to falter a bit.
“I’m going to need you to be more specific, Ken.”
“This. Us. Being in the same room again, sharing a child, all of it. It’s weird and hard…right?”
He rubs his palm over his mouth while he formulates an answer.
“Yes, but I would take weird and hard any day, every day, if it means I get to see you again,” he comments.
The corners of his mouth turn up. “You don’t have to be nervous with me, you know.
It’s still me. Still us. We’ve known each other since we were five. ”
At least we both agree this is uncomfortable. I rock on my feet, unsure what to do with my hands, my anxious energy and all my competing feelings. “But I have been nervous…all day. All week, if I’m being honest.”
“Me too,” he chuckles. “Just be your perfect, natural, gorgeous self. You do it so effortlessly, Ken.” Jesus Christ. This man. He seems determined to make me fall in love with him all over again.
“Thanks, Kai.”