The Falling, page 20
We both were quiet, roaming around the insides of our own heads. At the moment, mine looked like a vandalized art gallery, and I wondered what Kael was seeing in his.
“Is it the loss of control you’re worried about?” Kael asked.
Whoa. Is he calling me out?
My reaction caused him to raise his hands in defense and continue in a lower voice. “I’m asking because if you found the right person, they wouldn’t change you. They would have a part in making you into a better person, right? Isn’t that what love is?”
I chewed his words for a minute before I responded. The dandelion danced as I started to spin it between my fingers.
I answered him honestly. There was no reason to lie or pretend I’m an expert on love and relationships. “I have no idea what love actually is.”
The words hung as a placard on the concrete wall of my mental gallery. As I blew the flower to dust, I closed my eyes and pictured Kael and I in that gallery, standing in the corner, away from all the noise, taking in what the words meant. What love actually is.
Kael and I sat silently on the porch, and I can’t explain how or why, but I knew he was in the same mental space as me, having the exact same thoughts as me. I didn’t even have to open my eyes to know that his eyes weren’t open anymore.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
I had forgotten to make Elodie a pitcher of sun tea, and I realized there was only an hour or so of daylight left. Jumping up, I told Kael I was heading inside to fix it, and he offered to help, even mentioning his mom’s “special method” for making it. More domestic-couple behavior! Now that we were inside the kitchen, I started to feel a bit more rational. His idea of being drama-free friends made all the sense in the world. I couldn’t keep thinking about it. There was no need to. It was like practice-dating in a way, and Lord knows I could use the practice. This way, my mind and heart wouldn’t end up hurting—drama-free friends with an expiration date. Whatever I was walking into, I would be prepared.
“So, what’s the first step in this friendship?” I asked him, as I began to fill up the jug of water in the sink.
“I think you may be too late to get this done today,” he advised, pointing to the sun setting behind the trees out the window. I dumped the water as Kael pulled out a wooden chair at my kitchen table and sat down.
“Hmm, I think we’re past step one. We’ve done the grocery-shopping bit.”
I nodded, leaning back on my cute farmhouse sink. “And you’ve met my parents. Well, my dad and my brother.”
“And a party. We’ve actually been through quite a bit. In a really short time.”
“Yeah, we have.” I looked away from his dark eyes on me. Turning around, I kept my back to him and busied myself with washing a few dishes. I really, really needed a dishwasher, but that was a luxury way down on the list. I had my eye on one, and considered getting a credit card, but the thought of owing money that I barely had made me more anxious than hand-washing my dishes.
“Let’s do some basic get-to-know-each-other questions?” His tone was playful, far from the composed man I met a few days ago.
“Okay.” I shot him a glance over my shoulder, but was skeptical. “Go ahead.”
He gestured to the empty chair next to him.
I stepped to the table, sat down, and scooted my chair to put a few inches between us. If Elodie walked in and saw us here she would definitely have something to say about the two of us sitting so close, alone in the house.
“I’ll ask you a question and you answer honestly and we go from there. Think of it as my birthday gift.” He smiled at me. I wanted to kick him for being so adorable.
“This is what friends do. They get to know each other’s hobbies and taste in music. Favorite foods, all that,” he assured me.
He was so confident—in his words, his smile, even the way he leaned back on the chair with his arms crossed. I felt that familiar pull from the bottom of my tummy down toward my legs.
“Okay, okay. Enough small talk, ask something.” I needed to be distracted from the way Kael’s mouth made me ache as he licked his lips while peeling the skin off that freakin’ orange.
“I only brought one, but we can share,” he said. I loved this playful version of him.
“Some friend,” I joked, and he shook his head.
“Hey, we’re just starting out. I get to have a few hiccups.”
“Touché.” I paused, looking around the kitchen. “Anyway, you’re the one who doesn’t tell me anything about himself.”
“You go first, then,” he offered. I thought about what I wanted to know about him. There was just so much.
Music. That’s what popped into my head first. I’d ask about music! “What’s your favorite band that no one really knows?”
He turned to me, his eyes wide, happy.
“So many. I love unknown bands. It’s most of what I listen to. I just open Spotify and type in my mood and they usually get it pretty spot-on.” He opened the app and showed me his screen. “This morning I listened to a band called Muna. I found them recently. They’re great.”
“Muna isn’t unknown. There’s a rumor they are going to be opening for Harry Styles on his upcoming tour.” I told him how I loved their music and how Elodie and I would try to get tickets to his concert as soon as they went on sale. I’d need to pick up a few more clients before I could afford resell tickets.
“Harry Styles, huh? If you could go to any concert, ever, who would it be?” he asked me.
I nodded a solid yes and thought about what concert I would choose if I could see anyone. Alanis Morissette had always been my go-to answer, but with Kael, I chose what I actually thought of first. It felt freeing, to be honest in this way. I liked how he brought me out of myself. I didn’t give him the answer I thought he wanted. I gave him the truth.
“Shawn Mendes,” I told him.
“Shawn Mendes? I never would have guessed.” He smirked.
“And you?” I asked.
“Me, well, I would probably say either Amy Winehouse, before she . . .” He paused. It was lovely, a mark of respect somehow. I smiled, urging him to continue. “Or Kings of Leon on their first tour. Back when they were virtually unknown.”
“I’m going to make a playlist of unknown bands before our next . . . hangout session, or whatever we’re calling this,” I said.
“Our next not-a-date,” he said. I think we were both relieved to hear the word “next.”
“Right,” I said, feeling both relieved and excited.
“So,” Kael said. “Here’s another question for you. If you could describe your brother, Austin, in one word, what would it be?”
“Hmm.” I tapped my nose, thinking of one word to describe my twin. “Well-intended?” I finally answered. But I was unsure. It wasn’t the word I was going for. Not exactly.
“That’s two words,” he said.
“Actually, it’s hyphenated, so that counts as one word.” He liked that. I could tell. “He has good intentions,” I continued. “He makes bad choices to go along with them.”
“I get that,” he said. And I really felt that he did.
“My turn,” I said. “What about you? What about your little sister?” His expression hardened almost to say I had crossed a line. Then, just as quickly, it went back to normal. After a moment he answered me: “Powerhouse.”
“Powerhouse?” I repeated. What a lovely way to be viewed by someone, especially by someone in your own family.
He nodded. “Yeah, she’s brilliant. And doesn’t let anything stop her. Her high school, it’s one of those fancy private schools where they focus intensively on one subject. Science is her thing. She tested high enough to get into the school back when she was nine, but my mom can’t drive and wouldn’t let her ride the city bus alone until she turned fourteen. Now she takes the bus on her own, across town, every morning, and every afternoon.”
“Wow” was all I could manage. Of course Kael’s sister was brilliant. It was impressive and ironic to compare this teenage prodigy riding a bus across town to get to her gifted school to my twenty-year-old dropout brother who managed to get himself in trouble even when he stayed home.
Kael turned the game back to me, and I continued with a basic question. “What do you like to do in your spare time?”
“Get massages”—he smiled at me—“and work on my place. I bought a duplex while I was deployed. Remember when you took me to the parking lot to get my keys? They were supposed to be left there, sitting on my tire, but they weren’t. Turner, the soldier we saw at the commissary, tracked the keys down and brought them to me.” He casually mentioned her like I hadn’t visualized a thousand scenarios involving the two of them since I’d met her.
“Anyway, I bought this run-down duplex and I’m fixing up the empty side now, and slowly working on my side so I can rent it out and eventually move into another one and repeat the cycle. Maybe spread out toward Atlanta when I can. Real estate is one investment that hardly ever decreases in value.”
“I bought my house for the same reason,” I told him. He broke a piece of orange off and popped it into his mouth. I could smell the sweetness from where I sat. My mouth watered.
“Well, the remodeling part. I don’t think I’ll ever own more than this.” I waved around the kitchen. “But I’m totally fine growing old and dying here because it’s mine.” I touched my chest. “I couldn’t stand living with my dad and Estelle anymore, so I found this little house and I’ve been slowly, I mean, s-l-o-w-l-y, fixing it up.” I dragged out the word for emphasis.
He laughed, inching closer to me. “I noticed.”
“Don’t you think I’m doing a good job?” I asked. “Didn’t you see the shower tiles?” Kael was flipping houses—he was semiprofessional at this point—and I bet he cringed at the number of unfinished projects scattered around my house.
“Yes, you are. You’re doing it on top of working and you live alone. Well, sort of alone.”
“‘Sort of’ is right. I do as much as I can, when I can.” I knew I procrastinated when it came to hard projects. I went through phases alternating between doing a ton and doing absolutely nothing for a few weeks at a time.
“What room do you feel the most at home in?” he asked, looking around the kitchen.
“Are we back to our game?”
He nodded.
I put some thought into my answer. “I’d have to say my room. I love my living room for hanging out with Elodie and sprawling across my couch on a weekend without having to wear a bra or socks.” What the hell, Karina! I felt my cheeks turning red, but continued. “And I love my kitchen for being open and cute. It’s easy to cook in, doesn’t get too hot. My bathroom will hopefully be a favorite after I finish it. But for now, my bedroom, specifically my bed, is my spot. Me and my phone and I’m set.”
He was close to me, so close that I could smell the fruit on his breath. I didn’t know if it was me or if it was Kael, but one of us was inching closer to the other as we continued our little game. By the time Kael and I had asked each other random questions like how long we could hold our breath and what noise could he listen to all day, every day without being annoyed, we were inches away from each other, both leaning out of our seats.
It was a magnetic pull. An irresistible attraction. He was by far the smartest, most philosophical person I had ever met. He had the answer to everything; he knew exactly who he was. I really loved that, and his conversation drew me out. I told him how I first fell in love with figuring out life on my own. I told him how I would never change who I was for another person. I didn’t exactly know who I would become, but I knew it would be on my terms.
“I could listen to you talk all day,” he said, surprising me.
“No one has ever said that to me before.”
“It’s become one of my favorite things to do. I’m going to miss this when I leave.”
His eyes were on my mouth.
My heart was beating out of my chest.
“I wish you weren’t going,” I confessed to him.
“One day you’ll regret saying that.” Kael’s breath covered my cheeks.
His lips were so close to mine. Was he going to kiss me, here, now, out of the blue, with the dew of orange on his lips?
My mouth begged for his to inch closer, to touch mine. I had never wanted something more than I wanted him to kiss me, there in my kitchen.
Was he going to kiss me?
His lips soon answered my question. He leaned over and put his soft mouth on mine. Everything went quiet then. The traffic on the street outside. The faint sound of the TV. Even the noise in my head went quiet. I had no words. No thoughts. Just him.
He was timid at first, gentle . . . until I pushed my tongue between his lips and tasted him. His fingers cupped the sides of my jaw and down the skin of my neck. He pulled me closer and I sighed, feeling relief from a pain I didn’t know I felt.
The flooding relief was immense but short-lived when Kael gently pulled away, kissing the corner of my mouth while whispering, “I’m so sorry.”
The high I felt was ripped away, replaced with a different kind of pain taking stabs at me. The look on his face wasn’t just surprise, but remorse.
“I’m sorry. I really don’t know what I was thinking,” he continued, wiping his mouth with his fingers. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
I nodded, almost agreeing in silence, but it felt like a rejection. “Yeah, you really shouldn’t have.” My words didn’t match what I was really feeling, but I wasn’t going to let him know that. I stood to leave the kitchen, wanting the safe haven of my room, wanting to curl up into a ball. That was it for me and oranges.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
I hadn’t heard from Kael at all the next day, and by the time I got home from work I was so exhausted that I barely wanted to undress, let alone shower. Dad and Estelle were still in Atlanta, so thankfully, no Tuesday-night dinner. Elodie wasn’t home, and she hadn’t told me where she was going. The whole day at work I tried to avoid her, because I didn’t want her to sense that something was off with me. I felt like she would know that Kael had kissed me when she looked at me. I didn’t plan on telling her. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust her, I just didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to protect whatever this was with Kael from anyone’s judgment or questions.
No matter how much I adored Elodie, managing her curiosity and keeping her entertained were more than I could handle today. I was emotionally drained and, after having two no-shows and a very high-strung walk-in who didn’t tip, I really wanted the house to myself. I collapsed into the cushions of my couch and closed my eyes. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this way.
After a quiet nap, and realizing how badly I needed to relax, I decided on a pampering shower, using nearly every product in the bathroom. I shaved, twice, and even double-shampooed my hair, just to feel more lavish. After the long, hot shower, I combed out my hair, braided it the best I could, and put on the only matching pajama set I owned. They were soft, a silky rose fabric that clung to my body—a gift, of course, from Estelle. Hardly my comfort zone, but I had to admit they looked pretty flattering; if only I had someone to appreciate me wearing them.
My nails were up next. I was really leaning in to this self-care thing everyone kept talking about online. Tiny flakes of sky blue were left on my fingernails, and instead of picking at them like I always do, I grabbed the acetone and cotton balls and headed to my bedroom to get a bottle of white nail polish from the basket on my dresser, along with a candle that I had “borrowed” from my stash at work. On my way to the kitchen I collected a towel from the hall closet in anticipation of my mani-pedi. A cup of tea seemed the perfect accompaniment to my spa-at-home preparations . . . but Elodie and I had finished the supply of tea packets that we’d brought home from the salon. So a cup of microwaved water with a spoonful of honey in it would have to do. I carried the steaming liquid carefully to the living room, pausing to turn on my speaker and Bluetooth, as the honey dissolved into the clear water.
My wrists were a little sore from the no-tip client who was full of demands. He barked at me every time I spoke and didn’t want to pay for a deep-tissue, even though he continuously asked me to use more and more pressure. The joints of my fingers had a dull ache, a manageable but not ignorable type of pain. I decided to paint my toenails first.
Actively not thinking about Kael caused me to think about him. It scared me how comfortable I had become with his proximity, his quiet and intense presence in my house. He had rapidly become a subtle, essential part of my life. But he was very, very clear from the start that we would never be a thing, and I went along with it, acting as if I was used to spending all my time with a guy and not calling him my boyfriend. But after last night, this turned into a more dangerous reality. I had to constantly remind myself not to read too much into that kiss. Even if it was the best kiss of my life . . . But I know exactly what happens when you expect something from people. It never ends well.
I felt the cold polish touch my skin and I jumped a little, dragging the white paint farther down my toe. Thinking too much about him distracted me from being able to paint my toenails properly. I really needed to get it together. I took a sip of the steamy sweet water in my mug and felt the wetness from the end of my braid moistening my back through my PJs, when a knock at the door made me jump. A visitor was the last thing I wanted right now, and I definitely wasn’t expecting anyone, but there it was. I stood up and looked around for my phone so I could check to see if anyone had called. Austin? I couldn’t find my phone, so I gave up and tiptoed to the door as the knocking came again. This time harder. Like the side of a fist pounding against my fragile screen door. I yanked it open to see Kael standing there; his hand was midair and he looked surprised to see me. It had started to rain again, and a mist floated around Kael, clinging to the cotton of his sweatshirt.
