18. Kai
Kai
" H ey, Kai," Casey called out as he jogged up to me, the gold in his hair catching the late afternoon sun. I'd been moping in my cabin since we'd returned from lunch, under the guise of letting Casey have time with his parents. He'd caught me as I went to get something from my car.
"What's up?" I asked.
"I'm cooking dinner for my mom and dad at the ranch house tonight. You should join us."
I hesitated, the weight of his invitation settling over me like a heavy blanket. "I appreciate it, Casey," I started, shoving my hands into my pockets. "But I really can't. I've got so much to do before Monday. The first day of classes is right around the corner, and I don't even have the syllabus for my higher-level ceramics course finished yet."
Casey's eyes searched mine, and for a moment, I thought he might insist. Instead, he nodded slowly. "Alright, but you know you're always welcome."
"Thanks." I forced a smile. "I'll take a rain check."
As I turned and made my way back to my cabin, I could sense Casey's gaze lingering on me. My footsteps echoed across the gravel, the only sound accompanying the rapid beating of my heart. Once inside, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, sighing deeply.
All through lunch and the walk in the park, I'd felt like Casey was on the verge of saying something significant — something that might unravel the tangled web of emotions between us. Instead, he'd told his mother that I was just a friend.
Just a friend. The words echoed in my mind as I tossed my keys onto the table inside my cabin. They clinked against the wood, loud and jarring in the otherwise quiet room.
"Just a friend," Casey had said, his voice calm and collected. Tom and I had caught up to Casey and Margaret just as she smiled down at him with that knowing look in her eyes. It was a chance for Casey to say something—to acknowledge the connection between the three of us. Instead, he'd said Yara and he were as strong as ever, and that I was just a friend.
It felt like a punch to the gut. I leaned against the door, my head thudding back against it softly. The words kept replaying, each repetition digging deeper into my chest. Why did they sting so much? Because, for me, this had become serious. I'd wanted Casey to tell his mother the truth more than I'd realized until I heard him lie.
Or had it been a lie?
Rationally, I knew he was probably being protective, waiting for the right time. Casey did everything in a careful and measured way, and he wouldn't out us as a throuple without everyone's permission. But the words still hurt. Still made me question everything. I'd always had a thing for Yara—her laugh, her infectious energy, her big, beautiful smile. But these past few weeks, with both of them... the impulsive, hot, wild sex had turned into something real. Something deeper. I'd fallen for both of them.
Muttering a curse, I turned, heading to the small kitchen area. I needed to distract myself, and I pulled out a beer. The syllabus for my ceramics course wasn't going to write itself, but looking at my laptop made me think of them. Of us.
The memories of our nights together surged forward, unbidden. Yara's body moving against mine, her moans harmonizing with Casey's low growls. Casey's hands gripping my hips, his cock buried deep inside me while Yara kissed me fiercely. Those moments weren't only about sex; they were about connection. About feeling whole.
Friendship didn't explain the way Casey's eyes lingered on me during lunch, or how Yara's hugs had become longer and tighter. It didn't explain the way I felt when I was with them, the sense of belonging that had grown stronger with every touch, every kiss, every whispered word in the dark.
I flopped my head down on the desk, trying to tell myself that Casey was just being cautious. But a darker voice in the back of my mind told me maybe I was delusional and the intensity was all in my head. The connection could be entirely one-sided. I took another swig of beer, letting the alcohol warm me from the inside out. I tried to focus on my laptop, but work couldn't distract me from my restlessness.
The syllabus for my advanced ceramics course needed to be done, but all I could think about was the spiraling, irrational worry that I didn't mean as much to them as they did to me.
A scratching noise broke through my thoughts. I looked out the front window, hoping for Casey, but it was only Bruce. His meow was insistent, demanding attention.
"Alright, alright," I sighed, walking across the cabin. I opened the door, and Bruce strutted in like he owned the place. He rubbed against my leg, purring loudly, his presence a small comfort amidst the chaos in my mind.
"Hey, Bruce," I murmured, crouching down to scratch behind his ears. "At least you know what you want."
The cat meowed in response, his green eyes meeting mine with a knowing look. I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head.
"Yeah, it's that obvious, huh?" I stood up, watching as Bruce made himself comfortable on my bed.
As I settled back down on my desk chair, my phone buzzed with a call from Casey. My fingers hesitated over the screen. Part of me wanted to ignore it, to avoid the confusion and heartache that seemed inevitable. But another part of me—a much larger part—ached to be with them, to find some clarity in the tangled mess of our emotions.
Bruce meowed louder, demanding attention, making me set the phone down. I smiled at his persistence, reaching for the bag of cat treats I'd stashed in my desk drawer. At least someone loved me, even if it was a cat only after his crunchy meat snacks. I tossed one to him. He snatched it up, chewing contentedly. He looked so happy that I gave him another, then another, when he made a cranky growling sound that was adorable.
Finally, I reached into the bag for another treat and found it empty. Had I been spoiling the cat that much? He gave me an indignant look, clearly unsatisfied with the portion.
"Sorry, buddy, that's all for now. I'll buy more at the store, I promise." I chuckled, scratching his chin. Bruce grumbled a bit but eventually settled down on my desk, curling into a warm ball of fur. His presence was a small comfort amidst the chaos in my mind.
My phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with Casey's name again. He wasn't giving up. My heart skipped a beat, but I couldn't bring myself to answer his call. Instead, I typed out a quick text letting him know I was busy with work.
I set the phone aside, closing my eyes and trying to focus on the present, on my work. Bruce walked over to sit right on my keyboard, his eyes full of judgement.
"I am not avoiding confrontation!" I argued, lifting the cat off of my keyboard and starting to type. He made a grumpy noise and batted at my laptop, sticking his nose against the screen as he tried to follow the cursor.
I gave up and pet the cat until he abruptly leaped from my arms to run to the door and meow loudly. And when I walked to the door to see if Bruce wanted to be let out, Casey was there, on the other side of the screen door, grinning, holding a plate of food.
"Didn't want you to skip eating," he said. "Also, Yara gets back tomorrow, and she missed you a lot. I'm worried we spend all of our time in the last few weeks fucking and none of it on real dates, so I'm going to cook you both a nice dinner and romance you both."
"A date? But you said…" I bit my lip, stopping myself from letting him know just how much I'd been spiraling. Maybe it had all been irrational panic. Of course it had all been irrational panic. Hadn't it? "I mean, okay."
Casey beamed. "Now, eat something and get back to work. You've gotta be on top of your game with that Calloway asshole riding your ass—" He paused, tilting his head. "—in a completely non-sexual way. I'm the only one who gets to ride your ass sexually."
My blush must have been bright red. "Of course."
"Yara told me he was a dick to you. So we're going to get together and come up with a plan." Casey opened the screen door and handed me the plate. "And I'm not going to distract you at all, as much as I want to, because my parents are sleeping in the guest bedroom, and you're behind on your professor stiff. So get to work! And eat your dinner."
"Yes, Daddy," I joked, and he smirked, eyes darkening.
"Call me that when I'm buried inside you and see what happens."
"Yes, Daddy."
Casey looked at me for a long moment, then smiled. "You're so sexy, and I'm so into you. There's something about a man with a cat. See you tomorrow, for our date."
With that, he called for Bruce and turned, jogging down the porch steps. I really, truly regretted telling him I had to work. Though he was right; I needed to prepare my syllabus. And this time, when I sat down at my laptop, I was ready to work.