Chapter 16
Ash
Ispend an embarrassing amount of time deciding what to wear. The realization irritates me almost immediately. I've played in front of twenty thousand people. I've been interviewed on national television. I've fought grown men on skates without my pulse changing.
And somehow, I'm standing in front of my bedroom mirror debating between two T-shirts.
“Jesus Christ.” I throw one back into the closet.
The other one wins by default.
Then I check my hair. Twice. I tie it back. Undo it. Tie it again. Somewhere during the process, I catch myself wondering whether Kai likes my hair down better.
I stare at my own reflection. “You've got it bad.”
There isn't really another explanation anymore. Not after this morning. Not after practice. Not after the look on his face when I'd casually announced to the entire locker room that we were dating.
I'd expected him to panic. Expected him to laugh it off. Expected him to tell everyone I was joking. Instead, he'd sighed, looked like he'd briefly considered murdering me, and then quietly admitted I was right.
“That's true.”
Just like that.
No hesitation.
No embarrassment about being associated with me.
No attempt to put distance between us.
The memory makes me smile all over again. It also makes another thought surface. One that's been bouncing around my head for weeks. I want to ask him out. Properly.
Not because anything would really change.
We're already spending every free moment together.
We're sleeping in the same bed more nights than not.
We're learning each other's coffee orders and favorite books and terrible movie opinions. Still...
I'd like to ask.
I'd like to hear him say yes.
The problem is finding the right time.
Every time I think I'm going to do it, something happens.
A panic attack.
William.
Noah.
A nightmare.
One crisis after another.
It never feels fair to put more on his shoulders. So I wait. Hopefully not forever.
I grab the book from my kitchen counter before heading downstairs. The hardcover rests comfortably beneath my arm. It took me nearly an hour to find. I'd wandered through the bookstore reading the backs of novels like I had any idea what I was looking for.
The poor employee had eventually asked if I needed help.
“My—” I'd almost said boyfriend.
The word had reached the tip of my tongue before I'd caught myself. Instead I'd settled for something safer.
“My friend likes classic literature.”
She'd smiled. “What has he already read?”
Forty minutes later I'd walked out with a copy of Les Misérables.
I only hoped Kai hadn't beaten me to it.
The drive across town passes quicker than I expect. Before long I'm pulling into the parking lot outside his building. The familiar elevator carries me upward.
I knock twice.
For a second nothing happens. Then footsteps. The door swings open and every coherent thought leaves my body.
Kai smiles. “Hi.”
He's wearing dark jeans and a fitted, black long-sleeved shirt. His silver hoops catch the hallway light immediately. The thin silver chain resting against his collarbone somehow makes the whole thing worse. Or better. Depending on who you ask.
The sight alone makes something inside my chest loosen. “Hey.”
Apparently, that's the best I can do. Real smooth, Grant.
Kai steps aside. “You gonna stand in the hallway all night?”
“Sorry, I forgot how pretty you are.”
His cheeks immediately turn pink.
Excellent. Some things remain reliable.
“You say weird shit.”
“It's accurate.”
He rolls his eyes but can't quite hide his smile.
I finally remember why I came here. “Oh.”
I lift the book from beneath my arm. “This is for you.”
Instead of handing it over normally, I hold it out the way someone might present flowers.
Kai blinks, then laughs. “What are you doing?”
“Romance.”
“With a book?”
“I know my audience.” He takes it carefully.
His eyes fall to the cover then widen. “No way.”
Success.
“You haven't read it?”
He looks up at me with obvious excitement. “I haven't.”
Relief floods through me so fast I nearly laugh. “I was worried.”
“I've somehow avoided this one.” He turns the book over in his hands, smiling to himself.
“Thank you.” The words come quietly. Sincerely. “I've wanted to read this forever.”
“I figured you could read it on the plane next week.”
He nods absentmindedly while already flipping through the first few pages.
“Unless…” He glances toward me. “I finish it tonight.”
I grin. “Well.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“I was hoping we'd both be a little too busy tonight for you to finish six hundred pages.”
“Mhm.”
No response. His attention has already drifted back to the book.
“Kai.”
“What?”
“I was flirting.”
“I know.”
“You ignored me.”
“I'm looking at Victor Hugo.”
“I'm getting cocked blocked by a dead Frenchman.”
Kai hums thoughtfully. “That's rough.”
“I'm deeply offended.”
He finally laughs. “I'm kidding.”
“I should hope so.”
His fingers brush over the cover. “I've seen the musical.”
I blink. “The musical?”
He nods. “I like musicals.”
A smile spreads across my face. “You…like musicals.”
He narrows his eyes. “Yes. I don't know why that's funny.”
“You're just such a nerd.”
“They're good.”
“They involve spontaneous singing.”
“So?”
“People don't do that.”
“They should.”
I shake my head. “I can't believe this.”
Kai closes the book. Then kisses me. Quick. Soft. Just enough to interrupt my teasing.
When he pulls back, he smiles innocently. “Stop making fun of me.”
“That was cheating.”
“It worked.”
“I wasn't finished.”
“You were.”
“I had at least three more jokes.” I stare at him for another second before looking away.
Mostly because if I keep looking at him, dinner is going to become significantly delayed.
That's when I notice the kitchen. Or rather...
I smell it.
My eyes drift toward the stove.
Several pots.
A cutting board.
Fresh bread cooling on a towel.
The apartment smells incredible.
I blink. “Kai.”
He follows my gaze. “Oh, yeah. I made dinner. Well, okay that’s not true. Angela made the lasagna, but I did bake the bread and pie.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “I noticed you never really have food at your place.”
I feel slightly called out. “That's fair.”
“So…” He shrugs. “I thought maybe you deserved a home-cooked meal. But I’m not really a cook besides chicken and rice so I phoned in a favor to Ange.”
For a moment, I can't speak. Kai is rambling in a cute way that tells me he’s embarrassed. I think about my refrigerator. Then I look back at the man standing in front of me. He spent his afternoon trying to take care of me.
“I used to bake before…” His voice trails off.
He doesn't finish the sentence.
He doesn't have to.
Before William.
Before everything.
“I haven't really done it in a while.” His fingers fidget together. “I just…”
He gives a small shrug. “I wanted to thank you.”
I swallow. Hard.
“You've done so much for me.”
The room suddenly feels warmer.
“You've taken care of me.”
I lower my eyes. Because if I don't, he's going to see exactly how much those words affect me.
I clear my throat.
“Ash?”
“I'm fine.”
“You don't look fine.”
“I'm fine.”
“You won't look at me.”
“That's unrelated.”
He steps closer. His hand finds mine.
Warm and gentle.
He threads our fingers together. “Seriously.”
His thumb brushes across my knuckles. “Thank you.”
God.
Nobody has thanked me like that before.
Not for something that mattered.
Not like this.
I squeeze his hand once. Then look at the floor again.
“What?” Kai asks quietly.
“Nothing.”
“You've gone all weird.”
I laugh under my breath. “It's just…” I shake my head. “Forget it.”
He waits patiently.
I finally meet his eyes again. “I like taking care of you.”
The admission hangs between us.
“So…” I point toward the kitchen before I completely embarrass myself. “You should probably stop talking.”
Kai blinks. “Why?”
“Because if you keep saying sweet things to me...” I take one slow step closer. “...I'm going to carry you into your bedroom.”
His eyebrows lift. “And then?”
“Then dinner is going to burn.”
He laughs.
Bright.
Unrestrained.
“Angela will smell it through the wall and she will kill me. So absolutely not.”
I sigh dramatically. “A tragedy.”
“It really would be.” He tugs gently on my hand, leading me toward the dining table. “You can flirt after dessert.”
I grin. “Is that a promise?”
He looks over his shoulder. “Maybe.”
Dinner is somehow even better than it smelled. I knew it would be good the second I walked through the door. I wasn't prepared for this. The first bite is enough to make me stop chewing for a second just so I can appreciate what's happening.
The laugh that escapes Kai is soft and almost shy. For some reason, that makes the food taste even better. I immediately go back for another bite.
By the time I've cleaned half my plate, Kai is openly smiling at me.
“Okay, Angela did a fantastic job, but what did you make specifically?”
Kai laughs and puts a piece of apple pie in front of me. “Try this.”
I push my half-eaten dinner away and cut viciously into the delicate pie my lover has set in front of me.
I take a bite. “Holy shit.”
Kai eyes me nervously. “Holy shit…bad?”
I snort. “No, idiot. I feel like I’m transcending to apple heaven.” I shove another bite into my mouth.
Kai sits back down and smiles at me.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Kai.”
“I just…” He shrugs. “I forgot what it was like.”
“What?”
“Watching somebody enjoy my baking.”
I look down at the plate again. “It'd be a crime not to.”
He laughs. “You really never cook?”
“I can—sorta. I just choose not to.”
“So what exactly do you eat?”
I consider the question. “Protein bars. Takeout. Eggs.”
“Good.”
“Sometimes grilled cheese.”
“Acceptable.”
“Ramen.”
His fork freezes halfway to his mouth. “You're literally thirty.”
“I am.”
“You eat like a college freshman.”
“I've been told.”
“I'm honestly surprised you haven't developed scurvy.”
I wave off his concern. “I take vitamins.”
He laughs so hard he has to put his fork down. “That somehow makes it worse.”
“I'm a simple man.”
“You're nutritionally concerning,” he says as he stares at me. “You're impossible.”
“I've heard that too.”