5. Wren
WREN
“So,” Kai says.
Perfect. I shift my bag higher on my shoulder. “So.”
His mouth twitches.
Barely.
It still does something stupid to my chest.
We have reached the full conversational range of two people who used to pass notes in Spanish class and make out behind my parents’ garage.
I stand in the middle of his apartment with my bag digging into my shoulder, marker on my hand from Lily’s spelling flashcards, and immediate regret for letting Harlow convince me that stopping by Grayson’s would be quick.
She is cheerful, persuasive, and completely shameless when she thinks she’s helping. Which is how I ended up here, standing in a sea of awkwardness, while she disappeared down the hall with her boyfriend and left me alone with the boy who left when I needed him the most.
Except he is not a boy anymore.
That is part of the problem.
Kai stands near the counter in a PCU hockey shirt that shows me just how not boyish he is anymore. Followed by gray sweats and damp hair, disheveled like he just ran his hands through it and called it a day. He looks tired, but he looks good. Damn good.
It makes me want to knock something over or climb him like a tree, and neither of those are viable options at this particular moment.
Down the hall, I hear Harlow laugh. Grayson answers her, too low for me to catch. A door clicks shut.
Traitors.
Scanning the room, the apartment is exactly what I should have expected from Kai Mercer. Shoes lined up by the door. Keys sitting in a bowl. Mail stacked in a neat pile on the counter, never scattered around. Two protein shakers drying beside the sink with their lids placed next to them.
Even the blanket on the couch is folded perfectly.
Kai notices me looking. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“That sounded like something.”
“It’s just very clean in here.”
Which is slightly making me feel even worse about the absolute disaster zone of my house currently, not to mention my own bedroom. Making sure the twins and Justin keep their rooms clean? Yes. Cleaning my own? No. It’s more of a ‘do as I say, not as I do’ situation.”
His brows draw together. “Is that bad?”
“No. It’s suspicious.”
“How is clean suspicious?”
“Because it means one of you is deeply unwell, and I’ve seen Grayson’s truck. It isn’t him.”
Kai almost smiles.
I look away before I enjoy it too much.
“You can sit,” he says.
I glance at the couch. “Is there assigned seating? I don’t know your system.”
He rolls his eyes, shaking his head slightly. “There’s no system.”
I nod. “Good to know.”
I sit on the edge of the couch because standing awkwardly by the door feels worse. My bag slips off my shoulder and lands beside me. The front pocket is half-open, so a notebook, a crumpled receipt, one purple hair tie, two pens, and a tiny plastic cat spill onto the cushion.
Kai looks at the cat.
I also look at the cat.
“Why do you have a plastic cat in your bag?” he asks, brows furrowed in confusion.
I’m just as surprised as you, my dude. “It’s a new fad to keep a plastic pussycat with you at all times. Don’t judge.”
“Is it now? Huh, I hadn’t heard that.” He looks at the cat again. “Let me guess, Daisy’s?”
Of course he remembers. He always did remember everything.
It was comforting once upon a time; now it feels dangerous.
“Lily’s,” I say, picking up the cat. “Well, technically. Daisy borrowed it, lost it, and now I’ve found it. You’d be shocked at what I find in my car from time to time.”
“If it’s still the same, you never know what your car could conceal.”
A laugh slips out before I can stop it.
Kai’s expression softens, and I hate how much my heart remembers when I’ve tried to make my mind forget.
“How are they?” he asks.
“The twins?”
He nods.
“Six and terrifying. Lily is all about having control over everything, while Daisy is basically the female version of the Tasmanian Devil.”
“So Daisy takes after you then.”
I shrug, running my thumb along the small toy in my palm. “She says borrowing only becomes stealing if you admit it. They’re in first grade now.”
“Feels impossible that it’s been over six years since I first met them at the hospital.”
I don’t know what to do with that, with the reminder of just how deeply Kai was once woven into my life, so I do what I do best. I keep talking.
“They’re basically adults. Very opinionated adults with glitter glue.”
“And Justin?”
“Thirteen, completely fluent in sarcasm, eats enough for five people, and seems to be allergic to deodorant that he desperately needs.”
Kai huffs out a laugh. “That sounds right.”
“Holden is sixteen and thinks being taller than me gives him the power of authority.”
“Does it?”
“Absolutely not.”
“How tall?”
I look Kai up and down, pretending not to know exactly how tall he is. “Maybe close to your height. He might pass you, honestly.”
Kai leans back against the counter. “I remember when he used to follow us around the backyard.”
“Yeah, well, now he broods in hoodies and pretends to hate everyone.”
The quiet settles in, and I start noticing things I don’t want to notice. The shadows under his eyes. The tightness in his right hand where it grips the counter. The way he’s trying to keep his shoulders relaxed, but I know him too well for him to hide the tension radiating off of him.
Kai’s phone lights up, and even from my position on the couch, I can make out the Seattle Stormbreakers logo as the screensaver.
I know about Seattle.
Everyone knows about Seattle.
Kai signing with the Stormbreakers was the kind of news people repeated with pride. I’ll never forget how proud he was, how proud I was, the day he signed. We celebrated with ice cream at his favorite place, followed by a late-night drive where the curves he explored were mine and not the road’s.
When Kai had decided to attend PCU, I was excited. Yeah, we’d have a couple years of not seeing each other as much, but I knew we could handle it.
I never expected to drift apart before we ever faced the test of distance.
Still, seeing the reminder on his phone makes it feel closer.
Seattle.
After this season, he’s leaving. Again.
Only this time, it won’t be for college. It will be for the life he was always meant to have, nearly fourteen hours away.
I reach for safer ground. “Classes start kicking your ass yet?”
He lets out a harsh breath, running his hand through his hair. “Not quite yet, but probably soon. I have a Business Ethics quiz due tonight, then need to work on a Strategic Management project. Couldn’t do that earlier with practice, rehab, and film. Plus lectures.”
“So you had a light day.”
He laughs, but it sounds fake. “Pretty much.”
“You always did enjoy suffering by cramming as much as you possibly could into the fewest hours.”
“And you always considered plans or a planner more of a decoration.”
“My planner was full of hopes and dreams.”
“Every January when you bought a new one, it stayed empty.”
“Exactly. Full of possibility.”
This time, his smile reaches his eyes.
I hate how quickly we can still do this.
The banter comes back before forgiveness. Before common sense. It fills the space because it knows where to go and comes naturally.
That should scare me. It does, but it also stirs old feelings up that I have to shove back where they belong.
My phone buzzes beside me, and I glance down, seeing an email notification.
Pacific Coast University Work-Study Office.
My stomach drops. I lock the screen before the preview fully opens.
I look back to Kai, his eyes narrow slightly, noticing the change in my demeanor.
“You okay?”
“Yep.”
His eyes narrow more. Guess his lie detector is still working in tip-top shape.
Damn it.
“It’s just school stuff,” I say.
“School stuff made you look like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you got bad news.”
My fingers tighten around my phone. Technically, it might not be bad news. It might be useful news.
Though he might not like said useful news.
“It’s probably nothing,” I say.
Kai doesn’t answer right away. His jaw shifts, and I can see the question he wants to ask. I can also see him stop himself.
A few years ago, he would’ve asked anyway.
A few years ago, I would’ve told him.
Down the hall, Harlow’s voice saves me.
“Okay, is everyone still alive and well out here? We’re coming out now.”
She makes her way down the hall toward us, Grayson behind her, one hand at her waist, looking far too pleased with himself.
I lift a brow at my best friend, who most definitely just had a fantastic make-out session if her swollen lips are any indication. Not to mention her boyfriend’s very mussed hair.
“Were you able to ‘talk’ to Grayson about what you needed to?”
Harlow’s cheeks flush, but she smiles, leaning back against Grayson’s chest. He places a quick kiss on her hair. “That she did. May have gotten a little distracted by how beautiful she is, but we got it.”
I bring both hands to my chest dramatically. “Thank God. I was so worried.”
Kai mutters, “Please don’t encourage them.”
Harlow’s gaze drops to the couch. “Why do you have Lily’s cat?”
I pick up the cat. “This is Mr. Buttons. He somehow made it into my bag.”
Kai looks between us. “I thought Mr. Buttons was a rabbit.”
Harlow grins, Grayson looks between us confused, and I just stare at Kai.
He goes still, wincing like he realizes too late what he admitted.
He remembers the rabbit too.
The twins used to drag that stuffed rabbit everywhere when they were little. It was gray once, then became a color no one could name after too many wash cycles. Kai used to pretend Mr. Buttons owed him rent because the twins kept leaving him in his car.
Looking away first, I start shoving things back into my bag. Notebook. Receipts. Pens. Hair tie. Plastic cat that would cause chaos if left behind.
One receipt falls near Grayson’s foot. He bends to pick it up and hands it to me without looking too long.
“Thanks,” I say.
“No problem.” His voice is easy. Kind.
I can’t handle kind right now. It makes me feel too close to falling apart, and I have poster board to buy before Justin decides his entire academic career is over.
Harlow moves toward the fridge. “You should stay for food.”
Putting my bag on my shoulder, I stand up to leave. “Can’t. Poster board and chaos await.”
“You can.”
“I really can’t. I told Holden I’d be back in time to be with the twins so he could go to practice. They had a late one today, so at least he was able to grab the twins. Sometimes I’m really glad it’s within walking distance, because we don’t have enough cars for him to take one at the moment.”
Not that he has more than his permit right now since no one has had the time to take him driving. I make a mental note to add that to my never-ending to-do list.
Harlow’s teasing fades a little. “Everything okay?”
There it is again. The question everyone keeps asking because apparently my face has forgotten how to lie.
“Yeah,” I say. “It’ll be fine. We can work on his poster once the twins are in bed, and I might even have time to look through the rest of my syllabi from class.”
“Do you need—” Kai stops himself before he finishes the question.
I stop breathing.
Do I need help?
Yes.
Always.
With gas. With money. With school. With the twins. With pretending my dad’s absence hasn’t turned my life on a complete one-eighty with no real plan in sight. With the fact that I am almost twenty-one and already tired in places I don’t know how to rest.
But help from Kai would feel different.
It would feel too close to before, when help was easy. When he carried sleeping twins inside after family barbecues. When he helped Holden fix his bike chain. When he knew which kitchen cabinet held the cups at my parents’ house and which window stuck in my bedroom.
Back when we were teenagers and thought wanting each other was enough.
Spoiler: it wasn’t.
“I’ve got it,” I say.
Kai’s mouth closes.
Harlow looks between us, quieter now. “I can walk down with you.”
“No, stay.” I hitch my bag over my shoulder. “Enjoy your dinner. Make good choices, but not too good, because I want the details later.”
Kai gags and Grayson coughs.
Harlow beams. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I move toward the door, and Kai moves at the same time.
Not much.
Just a step, as if old habits took over, and he’s going to walk me to my car.
We both freeze.
Harlow looks at Grayson. “See? I told you. Tension thick enough to cut with a knife.”
“I can—” Kai starts.
“Nope.” Too fast. I soften it because his face changes. “I’m okay.”
His eyes hold mine before he nods once and steps back.
“Drive safe,” he says.
It’s such a normal thing to say. Something he would tell literally anyone, so why does it make me feel sad? He cares about me, just like a friend would. I guess it’s just weird putting a friend label on something that once consumed me completely.
“Always do.”
Another lie, but this time I make sure my face doesn’t give that away. My check engine light has been on since I got home four months ago, and I still haven’t made it around to getting that checked.
I leave before anyone can say something kind enough to ruin me.
The hallway is warmer than the apartment. My footsteps echo down the hall as I head toward the parking lot, one hand wrapped around my phone, thumb hovering over the email I still haven’t opened.
I make it all the way to my car before I finally stop pretending I’m not going to read it.
The screen lights up.
Pacific Coast University Work-Study Office
Subject: Interview Request — Athletics Equipment Assistant
My stomach drops as I open it and begin to read.
Wren Calloway,
Thank you for your application for the Athletics Equipment Assistant position with Men’s Hockey. Donnelly Pierce, Head Equipment Manager, would like to schedule an interview this week to discuss your availability and qualifications.
Men’s Hockey.
Of course.
Of course the universe looked at my current emotional, financial, and academic stability and decided the next logical step was working near Kai.
I read the email twice.
Then a third time.
I can’t say no because of Kai. I can’t let a boy I used to love outrank tuition. I can’t let awkwardness matter more than gas money, groceries, or Mom’s red-letter bills.
Even if the boy is not just a boy.
My phone buzzes with another reminder.
7:42 — DON’T FORGET THE POSTER BOARD.
Swiping the reminder away, I type a reply to the work-study office before I can talk myself out of it.
Thank you for the opportunity. I’m available this week and would be happy to interview.
My thumb hovers over send. Then I hit it.
Done.
I get into my car, shut the door, and let my head rest against the steering wheel.
Working near a very toned, chiseled, handsome-as-ever Kai Mercer is officially a little less hypothetical.
Fanfuckingtastic.