33. Kayla
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
KAYLA
T he morning sun streaming through the curtains wakes me. I don’t know the last time I slept in this late, but it’s nice to feel rested for once. Family dinner last night was better than I could have ever imagined. Even though things are still a little awkward between us, I’m excited to learn more about my newfound family.
Blinking to help the room come into focus, I look up to see Chase is still asleep, his lips parted slightly. The rays cast angelic golden highlights across his mussed hair, making it almost impossible for me to look away from the unbelievably caring soul beside me. He gave them the idea for dinner last night. For me . For my comfort. That thought alone makes me feel giddy inside. I like the way I feel when I’m with Chase—cherished and safe, and undeniably wanted.
As my sleepy thoughts shift into awareness, I remember what he told me before falling asleep last night. I’m torn between memorizing the lines of his chiseled face and closing my eyes to keep cuddling for a little longer. He’s leaving Friday; less than a week away. It feels too soon, like we have too much to figure out between now and then. I don’t even know where to start. Apart from deciding to continue seeing each other once I head back to school, we haven’t talked about any kind of logistics. Between my internship, his new job, an hour-long distance, and whatever else life tries to throw in, there just seems to be a lot of obstacles. My mind races through everything that could go wrong. Trying to control the spiral before it takes hold, I look back up at the peaceful face stirring next to me. I trace the line of his jaw, the hair on his face tickling my fingers as I go.
“You having fun?” Chase smiles with his eyes still closed.
“And what if I am?” I tease, jumping as he tickles my side.
“Well, by all means, don’t let me stop you.” He moves my hand back to his face, keeping it in place with his own.
I slip out of his arms, sliding my legs over his until I land in his lap. Running my fingers through his wavy hair and down his cheeks until I reach the muscles in his jaw, I lean forward to caress his lips with my own. Morning breath be damned, I just want to melt into him and ignore my racing thoughts.
Chase’s hands find my waist, his touch gentle and firm—possessive, but tender. These moments where it’s just us—no diner, no family or friends—make me want to freeze time and stay suspended with him in our own little world. This tiny island of happiness is the best thing I never knew I needed. I pull away slowly, keeping my fingertips on the edge of his jaw as I fight the urge to dive back into his comfort.
“Wake me up like that every morning, and I might just have to keep you around…” he mumbles. His hands travel up the back of my dress, making my skin prickle in response to his touch. I want so badly to tangle my legs with his, hoping to keep the morning at bay. A moan escapes my lips as his warm hands rub circles on my back.
“I have to go,” I say, biting my lip, fully enjoying the way his fingers dance across my skin.
“Mmm, nah… I don’t think so…” He pulls me down toward him, his lips finding my neck.
“Baby, I have to go do some research before my shift . ”
“Mmm, see, you just called me baby again. That adds another hour, I think…”
I sink against him, my giggles melting into sounds of indulgence as he moves his lips slowly up my neck, around my chin, and to my mouth, pulling on my lips with his own. “Chase…baby?—”
“That’s two hours now.” He flips me down onto the bed. The motion is smooth, the surprise of it stealing my breath while he nuzzles his lips against my neck. As much as I want to continue, there’s something more pressing for us to be doing.
“You’re leaving, and we need to talk about it,” I whisper, voice shaky from pleasure and something else. Something raw and vulnerable. I’m scared to lose him, but even more scared to tell him I’m scared of losing him. Telling him would give him the power to hurt me with it, and I don’t think I could make it back from that.
He pauses, breathing a sigh into my shoulder before sitting up on his knees. I prop myself up against the headboard, and we stare at each other, unable to speak and unable to look away. After what feels like an entire minute, he places my hand in his.
“I have to report to the office on Friday morning, and I’ll be there the entire week before the shareholders’ event. After that, I’ll have two weeks of freedom before staying in San Francisco permanently.”
“And what does this mean for us?” I break eye contact, suddenly not sure I’m ready for this conversation. I don’t want him to see the apprehension in my eyes, but he lifts my chin with his finger and lowers his face until we’re nose to nose.
“Whatever you want to do, that’s what we’ll do. I want to be with you, Kayla, in any way you’ll let me. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll find a way to do it.”
My mouth falls open as the entirety of his words filter through my wall of anxiety. His stare is intense, but I can’t look away this time. My breath catches in my throat when I try to speak. He smiles before kissing me softly, gently grazing my cheek with the pad of his thumb. It’s slow and deliberate, speaking volumes to my heart beyond what he’s already said. He’s not just willing to find a way for this to work, but determined to find a way that it will. He’s all in with me. With us .
My thoughts swirl as my heart pounds in my chest. Words that danced around possibilities before now seem to cement assurances into the very makings of my soul:
Sometimes
What you’ve lost, you’ll find
And you’ll fall in kind
To some kind of forever.
A tear slips from my eyes, rolling onto his fingers. His look of concern as he pulls away takes me back to that morning in my best friend’s bedroom, where my lack of communication caused him to question my feelings for him. Not wanting to make the same mistake again, I wipe my face and clear my throat of the intensity that has settled there, touching my head to his. Backed by the consuming emotions I don’t yet trust myself with, I speak the first words accessible to me. “I just want you.”
He smiles. “Then we’ll spend as much time together as we can this week. And next week, I’ll text, and call, and video chat with you so much you get sick of me.” I giggle as he nuzzles my nose. “And when I come back here, I’ll help you get settled at school, and we can maybe explore San Francisco together before I start working. The rest, we’ll figure out as it comes. How does that sound?”
“It’s perfect,” I say, before leaning in to kiss him one more time.
It’s a slow Sunday at the diner. The stark difference from the onslaught of new faces at the end of May versus the end of July is a little jarring. If I wasn’t using the slowdown to prepare my portfolio, I would be restlessly recleaning appliances and bugging Bert over in his corner. Tourists still come to Fort Bender through September, but those visitors are usually retired and prefer a slower pace. Most families have moved on to more exciting places to round out the end of their summer vacations before school starts.
I consider two types of formal catering attire as I study the portfolio sketches on my tablet. I’ve already finished my renderings of the venue color scheme—complete with tablecloths and floral centerpieces. The formal place setting ideas were easy, too, once I brushed up on the placements of silverware and dishes. I’ve even added a few extra touches—a table numbering system and waitstaff tracking cards—just to show the internship board I’m willing to go above and beyond. I’ve almost decided on a basic black uniform when three of my favorite people walk into the diner. So much of my summer has been spent laughing here with Ashlie, Hunter, and Chase, and I’m just now realizing how much I’ll miss this scene when we all leave.
“Hey, babe.” Chase comes behind the counter and wraps his arm around my waist, kissing my cheek quickly before dropping his chin to my shoulder. “Whatcha working on today?”
“The catering uniform for now, and then I just need to create the menu before I can turn it all in.”
“It looks amazing already.” He kisses my temple and moves around to the other side of the counter, where Hunter and Ashlie are in full swing with one of their ridiculous debates. They must have worked out whatever had them not talking to each other. I tried to pull it out of her, but she’s been a steel trap on the issue.
“There’s no way…” Hunter shakes his head emphatically.
“I’m calling a professional. That way, I know it’s done right.” Ashlie rolls her eyes at him and stretches a hand toward me. I think she wants me to help with her side of the argument, but I don’t know what they’re bickering about now.
“Is this your way of telling us you didn’t want Bryan’s ashy babies because he couldn’t change a tire? Because that makes complete sense.” Hunter’s signature smart-ass smirk spreads across his face as Ashlie pushes his shoulder.
“Back me up here, Kay.” Ashlie turns back toward me. “You get a flat tire in the middle of nowhere. Are you calling your boyfriend or roadside assistance?”
“Um, neither.” I shrug. “I would just change the tire.”
“You wouldn’t call me?” Chase asks, jutting his head back in response to my third option answer.
“You’re stranded, Kayla. Stranded ,” Hunter says, shaking his head again like I don’t understand the hypothetical situation.
“I wouldn’t be stranded because I can change a tire. I’d change it and be on my way.”
“I forget we’ve got Miss Independent over here. She’s probably been changing tires since she was five years old,” Ashlie says, folding her arms and leaning back in the stool.
“Six, but close enough,” I say, glaring back at her.
“So…you wouldn’t call me to come help you?” Chase’s face is scrunched as he asks the same question as before, clearly not understanding my position.
“Help me do what, exactly? By the time I called and waited for you to show up, I could have had the tire changed already.”
“That’s not the point…”
“What’s the point, then?” I curve an eyebrow up and cross my arms, waiting for his reply.
“The point is that you wouldn’t call me to help you when you’re stranded,” he speaks slowly, forming his words carefully.
“I wouldn’t be stranded, Chase,” I answer again as I watch him pull his lips together in a line, biting off any additions he had for this budding argument.
“I think we’re witnessing their first fight,” Hunter whispers loudly, nudging Ashlie with his elbow.
“Speaking of ashy, get your dry ass elbow away from me,” Ashlie teases, pulling lotion out of her bag and handing it to him.
“That’s just my White half showing,” he jokes, rubbing some of the cream on his arms. The tension between me and Chase slowly fizzles as our friends continue to joke around, and finally, I’m relaxed enough to grab water and menus. We spend the rest of lunch laughing about one thing or another. When it’s time for them to go, Chase pulls me in close, as usual.
After they leave, I make the final decisions on the attire spread for my portfolio and then pack it up. Before I can work on the menu, I need to combine my digital sketches with images from my idea board. Luckily, my boyfriend and new brother just so happen to be good with technology, and they’ve offered to help me combine it all after my shift. Checking the clock, I have about two hours before I can hang up the apron.