35. Kendall
Kendall
Ican’t focus, can’t concentrate. I watch the hands on the metal clock above my desk tick on slowly. They might as well be taunting me.
Am I enough?
I don’t blame him for being furious at me.
Of course he doesn’t trust me. Why would he?
And Kai has always been the jealous type; I can’t fault him for that either.
He doesn’t want to think about the guys that I’ve been with since we broke up any more than I want to think about the women he slept with.
And there were many. But how do we move past our history that isn’t with each other?
How do we learn to trust each other again?
Maybe Jenna was right, maybe we did need to try counseling.
The more I pick apart every detail of the fight we had, the more I realize it’s me who needs to fix this.
I have to earn back his trust for as long as it takes or else we will never have a chance at being in a real relationship.
***
Imake my plans for the night. I get Akio’s overnight bag packed, change him into his dinosaur pajamas—anything Spider-Man related is all in the growing dirty laundry pile—and drive him over to my moms’.
I’m at Kai’s apartment by 8:00 that evening, willing to do everything and anything to make this right.
It’s a little jarring since I’ve never been here before.
The valet parking, marble floor, and glass interior scream luxury and power.
And the differences between this place and my 1200 square foot shoebox are abundantly clear.
Upon arrival, I tell the doorman who I’m here to see and wait to be approved as a visitor.
I then take an elevator to his floor and request to be buzzed in over the intercom system.
The silver doors slide open with a whoosh, and Kai, all 6 foot 4 inches of him, are standing in front of me in navy sweats and a grey t-shirt.
The form fitting Nike shirt clings to his torso, highlighting his toned, muscular body and leaving his strong, tattooed arms on display.
His jet black hair is still a little wet and tousled and there’s a small ghost of a smile on his lips.
How he manages to look downright irresistible even in gym clothes is beyond my comprehension.
“Hi,” I say, a little flustered by the sight of him. “I came to talk, I hope that’s okay. But if you still need more space, I can leave…” I really hope he doesn’t need more time and space. The last 48 hours alone have been agonizing.
“No, it’s okay,” he replies, smiling, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I missed you and I want to talk.”
“Good. I missed you too,” I admit. I take a step toward him and he embraces me in a crushing hug that soothes my soul and allows me to breathe again.
He curls his arms around my back, pressing me tighter to him as I burrow myself in the crook of his neck.
He cradles my head in one hand and holds me close to him with the other.
Home.
The scent of his cologne, his touch that’s tender yet strong, the way I fit perfectly in his arms, and his unfairly gorgeous face that makes my heart skip a beat.
All of it is home to me. And I think if I can package up this feeling, bottle it, and save it forever, I would.
Because I never want to know what it’s like to miss him again.
“Come on,” he replies, tugging me forward and bringing me deeper into his apartment. “Let’s talk.” He takes my hand and leads me over to his black leather couch that’s situated in front of a TV nearly the whole size of the wall. We both sit and he mutes the basketball game that’s currently on.
“Can I go first?” I question. “There’s just a lot I need to say.”
“Sure,” he nods.
“I am so fucking sorry for keeping things from you and I know that simply apologizing won’t make up for that.
I know you don’t trust me yet and you shouldn’t.
I haven’t earned it and the fact that I left and didn’t contact you for three years doesn’t exactly instill trust in me either.
” I look up at him, my gaze connecting with his.
Willing him to believe the words I’m about to say.
“But I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you and proving to you that you can. From now on, whatever you ask me, I will answer honestly. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.
I’m not running from this ever again. But I do want you to keep an open mind about something. ”
“About what?” he wonders.
I chew on my lip nervously. “I think we should go to couples counseling,” I explain, internally holding my breath.
“Okay.”
“Okay? Really?” I ask in disbelief. “I did not think it would be that easy,” I acknowledge, feeling relieved that he’s on board.
“I’ve been going to a therapist since I was a kid and you know how I feel about it. If it will help us get closer and work through things, then yes, of course I’ll do it.”
Right. The accident, his panic attacks, his anxiety—all things he went to therapy for.
“I don’t really know what I did in this life to deserve you, Kai,” I admit. And I mean it. This isn’t the first time I’ve uttered those words to him and I’m positive it won’t be the last.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you either, Ken,” he responds.
“Yeah, yeah,” I joke.
“I’m serious,” he notes. “Can I ask you something though?”
“You’re wondering about Allison, right?” I supply so he doesn’t have to.
“Yeah.”
So, I tell him the whole ugly truth, the embarrassing past. All the insults and snide comments she made about me over the years.
The things I don’t want to dredge up but he deserves to hear regardless.
I explain how her words had shaped me in ways that were unseeable, unknowable until now, that she had cut me in ways that lingered.
I start tearing up a little towards the end and he pulls me close to him.
So close I can hear his heart thumping against his ribs and the rhythmical cycle of his breathing.
“I’m so sorry, Ken. I knew you didn’t get along with her, but I didn’t really know all the details. You never told me that,” he states, weaving his hand through mine. Which is probably the weirdest part of the whole thing, seeing as how we told each other everything. At least in high school.
“I know. I was insecure and embarrassed and part of me believed some of the things she said...” I reply quietly.
“Kendall, I wish you had told me this in high school or college so I could call bullshit on everything she said to you and about you. But now will just have to do.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, looking up at him and marveling at his ability to comfort and calm me.
“Allison was jealous of you and her family is made up of right wing nutjobs by the way,” he clarifies. I mean, I knew her family was comprised of blatant racists but I highly doubt she was ever jealous of me.
“Uh huh, I’m sure. You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better, Kai.” He sits up and brackets my face with one hand.
“I’m not saying it just to make you feel better.
I’m saying it because it’s true,” he admits.
“Every guy in our senior class wanted a chance with you and it has nothing to do with the fact that you are Black. It’s because you are a knockout and because you’re you.
Full fucking stop. You’re gorgeous, and you’re smart, and fucking fearless.
You were like the nastiest gymnast, I don’t even know how you did some of the things you did.
You make everyone feel special and lucky to be around you.
You’re caring and empathetic and you see people for all that they are and all that they could be.
You’re this beautiful bright light with a huge heart.
As if all that wasn’t enough, you have an ass that doesn’t quit.
Allison was just a pretty face, no substance, no depth, no redeeming qualities.
Not to mention she was evil incarnate. You were and are so much more than that.
” I don’t bother with a response. I don’t have any words. I just move my lips over his.
Thank you thank you thank you my heart chants silently.
When we stop to break the kiss, I’m overheating, dizzy, and completely relieved. I stare at him for a moment and try to fathom how I ever walked away from him. From this. The absolute love of my life.
“An ass that doesn’t quit, huh?” I ask, smiling like a giddy teenager.
“Yup,” he replies, pinching my ass and causing me to squeal.
“Can we just agree to let our history and people we’ve been with when we broke up go? Wipe the slate clean? I mean, there are other things we need to discuss, but as far as hookups and partners go, the only person I’m concerned about is you.”
“Agreed. In terms of our dating history, let's start fresh. The only thing that matters is us,” he responds.
“Just so we’re absolutely clear—the sex with Julian, with other guys was nothing compared to what we have.” I clear my throat “Had. It was nothing and it meant nothing.”
“Oh sweet, innocent Kendall. Trust me, I know,” he muses, smirking at me. God that smirk makes me want to do primal, truly unhinged things to him.
“You do?” I wonder.
“Yeah, I do. Because I’ve been searching for three years for someone to make me feel something, anything close to a fraction of what we have together. So far, no dice.”
He gives me the look, the one that pulls his lips into a devilishly handsome smile and I can feel flames licking at my core.
He kisses me then and it’s all demanding, wanting, taking.
We’re making up for years that we could have been doing this with each other, for time spent with the wrong people.
It tastes like broken promises and fractured hearts.
Truth and honesty. It’s layered with jealousy and possession and mine mine mine. It’s us. It’s everything.
When he pulls away, I whimper in protest. But he responds by placing me in his lap, my legs wrapping around his waist. He grips my neck with his hand gently, slowly pulling down the sleeve of my sweater to expose my shoulder. I feel heat searing my body, shivers sliding down my spine.
“Allison doesn’t matter. Julian doesn’t matter. No one else matters.” He pauses to place a kiss on my neck and another on my collarbone. “All that matters is us, how you feel when you come on my tongue,” his voice is a whisper and a caress.
“Fuck, Kai, if the goal is for us to not have sex, you really shouldn’t say things like that,” I reply.
“Baby, we don’t need to have sex for me to make you come. In fact, I’m pretty sure if I feel you right now you are going to be ready for me,” he says, making slow, intoxicating circles with his tongue along the column of my throat and caressing my hip. Holy shit.
“I am,” I breathe. Though I’m not sure how I’m stringing words together. “Fuck, that feels so good, Kai,” I practically moan, carnal need coursing through my veins.
“Is that what you want?” he asks, nipping my earlobe.
“Huh?” I respond, confused and a little dizzy. He laughs and pulls back to face me.
“I said is that what you want?” he repeats, kissing me senseless and capturing my bottom lip between his teeth.
God, why is that the sexiest fucking thing he’s ever done?
Oh right, because it’s Kai, my ex-boyfriend, (current boyfriend?) and father of my child.
Everything he does is hot, especially since we’re banned from having sex.
Maybe it’s because I haven’t had mind blowing sex in years.
The sex with Julian was good, but it wasn’t Kai.
Only Kai could crack my heart and my soul wide open and make me come back, begging for more.
Every time.
Only him.
“I want you to do less talking with that mouth.”
“What else?”
“I want you to fuck me with it,” I demand, surprising myself. I don’t just want him, I need him. I need his tongue sliding over every inch of my body more than I need my next fucking breath. I need to lose myself in him, drown myself in him. I’m starved for this man.
“Kendall, just so you know, another guy will never have their hands, mouth, or cock anywhere near you,” he says, his hands gliding over my hips to stroke my back. “The only guy that is going to be worshipping your magnificent body is me. So, if you don’t want that, say the word.”
“I only want you,” I rasp, breathless and lightheaded.
“If you let me, I promise to make you come so hard you forget your own name, you forget any guy that ever thought he deserved you,” he says, heat flaring in his eyes causing my nerve endings to bristle.
Then he carries me to his bedroom and makes good on every single promise.
***
Ahandful of orgasms later, we’re lying in Kai’s California king, me snuggled up to his side watching reruns of The Office.
He strokes my hair with one hand and draws small circles on my thigh with the other.
It feels like a dream and a memory even though I’ve never had it, never lived it.
I’m caught somewhere in between deja vu and heaven.
And it feels so good, so right, so perfect.