35. Kayla
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
KAYLA
S lowly, I undo my seatbelt and grab my house keys from my purse, leaving the bag as a signal that I’ll be back. I don’t bother turning the living room light on, preferring to slide my hand down the back of the couch until I reach the hallway. Flipping on the little desk lamp in my room, I grab my backpack from the closet and stuff my Patti’s Place shirt and some black work pants inside, along with undies and my hair scarf.
I get body wash and my toothbrush from the bathroom, and just before I turn off the light, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look… sad? Worried? Tired . Maybe all three, but especially tired, and not in a needs-a-good-sleep way. This is something more complex.Exhaustion of the soul. I’m tired of fleeing from myself and from what I know will ultimately make me happy. I feel like I’m on the precipice of a life-altering decision, where I can slink back into what’s familiar, albeit lonely, or I can try something different. I can hide from the confrontation and tell Hunter to leave, or I could pivot into change, making the choice to move through this conflict without running from it. Avoidance hasn’t helped me at all, I see that now. And I don’t want to shrink back inside myself. Not with Chase. Not after everything he’s seen me through this summer.
Hunter parks in the driveway at The Bluffs and shuts off the car, waiting for me to move first. “Thank you,” I whisper, biting the inside of my lower lip to keep the tears at bay.
“Hey, what are big brothers for?” He nudges me with his elbow before asking, “You ready?”
I nod, and we start a slow trudge to the house.
“Is she okay?” Chase asks as soon as the door opens. His voice sounds tired and muffled.
“Ask her yourself…” Hunter shrugs, moving away from the entryway. He steps past Chase, who’s sitting on the stairs, before jogging up to his room.
Chase’s elbows are propped up on his knees with his fingers covering his mouth. His hair looks like it’s been raked through a thousand times, to the point where it limply falls into his eyes. He watches me for a few seconds before standing and walking over to the wide-open door behind me. I hold my breath as he reaches around me to close and lock it.
His movements are cautious, as if he’s worried I’ll turn tail and run at any sudden move.Slipping his hand around the strap of my backpack, he slides it down my arm and slings it over his shoulder without a word. When he walks toward his bedroom, I follow quietly, not daring to speak first. Dropping my bag on the chair in the corner, he turns around slowly, his eyes trained down at the floor.
He slides his hand through his hair before stuffing them in his pockets. Taking a step toward me, he chances a look into my eyes. “Can I touch you now?” he asks. He doesn’t move until I nod my approval, and even then, his steps remain slow and methodical. Bringing his head down to mine, he gently places his hands at my waist, breathing a sigh as we move closer. “I don’t like fighting with you…”
“Me neither,” I whisper back, tears brimming in my eyes. Chase brushes a finger over my cheek, catching one before it runs. He pecks at my lips softly once, twice, and a longer third time before reaching behind me to close the bedroom door. When he guides me over to the bed, we sit facing each other, knee to knee.
“I’m sorry, Kayla, about everything. You told me more than once that you didn’t want or need my help, and I wouldn’t listen. You were right, about the ego part.”
“I-I’m sorry, too, for pushing you away, and for leaving.” I bite my lip. He was right about what he had said earlier. I run. I followed the formula exactly as he said I would and left.
“Thank you for coming back,” he whispers, reaching up to stroke my cheek with his thumb.
“Thank you for letting me.” I cup his face in my hands and lean in to feel his lips on mine. He sighs into me, and I just want to feel close to him again, feel like this thing between us is a little less fragile. He pulls back, looking into my eyes as he nuzzles his cheek into my hand.
“Can we talk about it?” he asks, moving his hands over mine.
I nod, biting my lip, unsure of where to start.
“Baby,” he says. “I didn’t change the tire.” He squints sheepishly, and I cover the unexpected laugh that escapes my mouth from his change of pace. He smiles while brushing a stray loc out of my eyes. “I sat out there for a good twenty minutes staring at it, deciding if I wanted to dig a deeper hole, but I couldn’t get myself to do it. It wasn’t worth it.”
“So you’re saying I have to walk to work tomorrow anyway?” I tease, nudging his knee with mine.
“Too soon…” He grimaces, shaking his head before tugging me to him. I rest my palms on his chest, and the serious look in his eye combined with the pain etched on his face drains all the humor out of me. “Watching you walk away was worse than falling out of that tree.”
“I know it looked like I blew up over a tire, and I’m sorry for leaving. I don’t mean to be hard for you to figure out, but I want to explain something.”
“Go ahead.”
“I’ve had to learn how to do a lot of things on my own. My mom worked long shifts at the hospital, and my great-granny, before she died, needed a lot of help doing things. She could tell me what to do, but she didn’t have the hand strength to do it herself, once her arthritis got bad.”
Chase shifts, leaning back against the headboard, taking me with him so I’m propped up over his chest. “You haven’t told me much about her, besides what you shared at the museum. What was she like?”
“She was a potter who loved making ocean and redwood inspired ceramics. Granny built a name for herself in Northern California, and the pieces you saw at the museum are just the tip of the iceberg. She has installations in museums up and down the coast. She took my mom in at the age of five, and then helped raise me when I came along, teaching me so much.
“Granny was the strongest person I’ve ever known. When she couldn’t move at the end—couldn’t do the things she loved doing—it was devastating. Watching her wither down to nothing put a fire inside of me to always do what I’m capable of doing. I feel like I know my limitations and I ask for help when I need it, but something about accepting help when I’m easily able to do it on my own feels like I’m willingly handing over parts of myself to wither away too.”
He studies my face, our eyes bouncing back and forth as we stare. “I’ve watched you work so hard this summer, and I just want to help lighten the load whenever I see an opportunity. You’re too competent to need saving, Kayla, we both know that. I just…” He pauses, his thumb caressing my cheek. “I want to be the one you want around when something goes wrong. Even if you don’t need help or don’t want me to fix it, I just want to be there. To me, that’s what the tire was about, trying to force my way into that position when I shouldn’t have.”
I nod slowly, appreciating how honest Chase is with his vulnerability. I never have to wonder whether he’s being upfront with me, and he never makes me guess what he’s feeling. He’s been himself from the start, and it’s one thing I love most about him.
Love…love?
The word pings around inside my mind as I stare up into his ocean blue eyes. So much has happened this summer. So many things could have given him a reason to say goodbye, but he’s remained constant through it all. Facing everything head on, right next to me, and giving me a boost when needed. My blue pebble .
I sit up, draping my knees on either side of his hips. Running my fingers through his hair, I tug him closer, kissing him feverishly as I try to erase the pain of the last few hours. He grabs my waist, holding me to him like letting go would cause a drop into the deepest abyss. Pulling back briefly, I deliver the message that’s been on my heart since I left my bathroom mirror.
“Baby, I don’t want to run anymore,” I whisper, nuzzling his nose.
He tips his head to mine, and a smile breaks across his lips. “You finally letting me catch up to you?”
Biting my lip, I nod. “Yep. It must be your lucky day…”
I squeal as he swiftly flips me onto the bed, pinning me while his lips dance down my neck. His hands roam over my shoulders and down my sides until they find the skin peeking out from the raised hem of my shirt. I sigh into the feeling of his hands on my body, relief washing over me that I didn’t lose this. Lose him. Just when I melt into his touch, he pauses and looks down at our feet.
“What’s wrong?” I groan, trying to catch my breath.
“Just making sure we don’t have socks on,” he says. With a gleam in his eye, he stretches to open his nightstand.
God, I hope that means what I think it does. I’m ready to put this fight behind us. He’s everything I could ever want.
Tossing the condom on the bed, he wiggles his eyebrows playfully and lowers his body onto mine. His kisses tickle my neck, and giggles turn to delightful moans when he slips a hand under my shirt, brushing his thumb over my pebbled nipple. With a gasp of pleasure, my back arches, fingers clutching the soft strands of his hair as he twists and tugs. I reach to unbutton his jeans, suddenly unable to contain myself. I want him. All of him. Right now.
His whispered breath in my ear sends goosebumps scattering across my skin. “Uh-uh, baby. You come first.” Deft fingers dip into my waistband, sliding rhythmically against my clit.
“Chase,” I whimper, my hips chasing the friction, rocking to match his pace. “Don’t stop…”
“God, you’re beautiful like this, Kayla.” His eyes lock onto mine with a desperate heat that threatens to make me come undone. He slips one finger inside me, pumping slowly before gliding it up to circle my sensitive bud. I cry out his name, and a mischievous smirk slides across his lips as he dips in again. “So fucking beautiful.”
“I’m— oh, God …” My core tightens as his slick fingers twirl around my clit, my eyes squeezing shut so tightly I see fireworks. His kiss devours me, swallowing every single moan as he sends my body spiraling into oblivion.
“I’m so glad you came back,” he whispers in my ear, stroking me slowly while I come down from my high.
“If this is what a reunion is like, maybe I should leave again,” I tease breathlessly.
“Don’t you dare.” He smirks and slides his hand from my pants. Unbuttoning his own, he tosses them on the floor. His shirt goes next, and he grabs the condom before leaning against the headboard. I hurriedly tug off my clothes.
Guiding me onto his lap, he smiles up at me, and I’m struck by how easy it is to be with him. Even after a horrible fight, we were able to work it out. Is this how love is supposed to feel?
He caresses my cheek as he brushes his lips against mine, sighing the same way he did the first time we kissed. We unravel slowly, deeply, in a paradise of our own making, until, at last, we melt together.