Skyler #2
Kips moves closer but I step away, keeping the space between us. I know he wants to pull me into him, to wrap those perfect arms around me and make me melt into him. But I can’t. The moment he touches me, it’s all over.
And before I let him touch me again, I have to be sure.
“Everything was real, Skyler,” he breathes.
“It was real when we kissed the night we met and the electricity shocked us both. It was real when I asked you about your past. It was real when I helped you figure out who you really are and told you not to be ashamed of her. It was real when you ripped my fucking heart out at the Valentine’s Day dance,” he chokes, as if just the memory of that night is enough to make him want to throw himself in front of a train.
“When I touched you for the first time, when we fought because we cared too much about each other, when we made sacrifices and decisions we weren’t proud of — all of that was real.
This,” he says, stepping toward me. I don’t back away this time. “We, are real.”
Listen to him, my heart screams. You love him, you idiot.
But my walls are still up, the wire on top buzzing with an electric charge as if to remind me how bad it hurt the last time I let them down, let him inside them.
My heart and my brain are at war, and I don’t know who I want to win.
“Let’s let Fate decide,” Kip says after a moment, and then his hand is in front of me, a shiny, black die balanced on his palm. “Roll the die. If it’s a four, we give this game another round. If it’s anything else, we walk away.”
I eye him, doing the easy math in my head as he stands there with his heart on his sleeve. “You know those odds are really terrible, right?”
But Kip just shrugs, his eyes calm. “I’m confident in our number.”
I study him for a long moment, eyes sweeping over the stubble on his jaw, the messy ends of his blond hair blowing in the wind before finding his eyes again. Then, slowly, I take the die from his hand.
This is crazy, I think, shaking my head as I roll the die around in my hand. But I let it go anyway, the black plastic sliding across the concrete at our feet.
Time warps again, as it always does with Kip, and we both watch that plastic bounce around from side to side until it knocks against a man’s shoe. When it finally falls, I close my eyes on a sigh, my heart squeezing hard in my chest.
Six.
When I open my eyes again, I will Kip to look at me, but he can’t look away from the die on the ground.
He just stares at it, as if he can change what number is showing with his glare alone.
The crowd continues to grow around us, laughter and conversation floating in as we exist in our own little bubble of silence.
And just like tonight in the tournament, I have a moment of clarity.
The devastation on his face, the bravery it took to ask me to meet him tonight, to say the words he has… it’s all the proof I need. What happened between us was real, and no matter how badly my walls want to protect me, the truth is that he’s worth the risk.
I’d feel the pain all over again, if it meant I got to be with him in the end.
So, I bend, retrieving the die from where it rests between us. I offer it to Kip at first, but he doesn’t move for it, and just when I see his hand twitch forward, I rear back, throwing it with all my might and sending it sailing over his head.
Whipping around, Kip watches the die splash into the fountain while I watch him, knowing this is the moment when it all changes. He turns to face me again, eyes wide, brows bent together in question.
“I’m done leaving my life to chance,” I say, smiling and shaking my head as the tears that threatened before blur my vision. “Black number four can suck it.”
I close the space between us in the next breath, Kip’s arms wrapping around me as I crash my mouth to his.
His hands slide into my hair, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss as I fist my hands in his shirt.
We’re completely lost in the moment, in each other, when suddenly music spills out from the fountain speakers and the show begins.
Neither of us look up to see it.
We lose ourselves in each other, touching and feeling and kissing as the water shoots up into the night sky until someone near us clears their throat, pulling us back to reality.
“I love you,” Kip breathes, the pad of his thumb skating over my bottom lip as his eyes flick between mine. “I’m so fucking sorry, Skyler.”
“Stop.” I shake my head. “We both played a stupid game.”
“I promise to never gamble with your heart again, Ella Mae.”
At that, I smile, remembering that night of our first date. We were both hiding so much, fighting our own demons, and yet we couldn’t help it even then.
We were destined to be together, to love each other.
It was always in the cards for us.
“Deal,” I say as Kip grabs my hand. He pulls me away from the fountain and toward the Strip, walking me back to our hotel without even asking. We both want to be alone, away from the crowds, away from anyone who isn’t us.
“I can’t believe you let me watch that die roll like that, when you knew it didn’t even matter.”
I laugh. “It was fun to watch you sweat.”
Kip squeezes my hand.
“That was super cheesy, by the way,” I add, glancing back at the fountains still going off.
“What? You’re not impressed with that impeccable timing?”
“How did you know I wouldn’t be dumping your ass when the fountains went off like that?”
Kip frowns, pulling me into him and knuckling my head. I laugh and push him off, smile fading a bit when his blue eyes lock on mine again.
“I knew you couldn’t resist this.”
I roll my eyes. “Please.”
But when he presses his lips to mine again, his fingertips skating down my arms to grip my waist and pull me into him, I know he’s right. He sucks my bottom lip between his teeth, biting it gently and eliciting a moan from deep within me.
“You couldn’t resist me if you tried.”
I smile, pulling back just enough to take in those stupid black frames surrounding his eyes.
Looking back on the semester, on all the games, I can’t wrap my head around how far we’ve come.
He was just supposed to be a blond-haired, blue-eyed boy to play with, a new toy to keep me occupied on the weekends.
And somehow, he got under my skin. Somehow, he became so much more.
He became my everything.
And I can’t resist the urge to bring everything full circle.
So, I lean in, eyes mischievous and hands around his waist as I whisper against his lips.
“Wanna bet?”