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Chapter thirteen

Isabelle

Two days ago, I left Kai’s apartment feeling confused about, well, everything. It’s obvious there’s a lot that is unresolved between the two of us, and I don’t have a clue how to work through it.

I want to call Maria, but I know she’d just tell me to be careful with my heart.

I can’t talk to my mom, she’d freak out about what it might mean for Tony and the team or get ideas in her head that I might stay in Vancouver for Kai.

And I don’t have anyone else here that I feel close enough to talk with about any of this.

Aside from a couple of texts, we haven’t spoken since I left his place. The sketchbook, and the implication of just how much he still thinks of me, whether he wants to or not, is staggering.

It’s made me look back at my time in Italy. The choices I made, especially when it came to dating, how much was influenced by unresolved feelings for Kai?

I’m no closer to understanding it all than I was two days ago. That’s for sure. And every night, when I touch his sweatshirt that is still tucked under my pillow, I’m reminded of that.

I need to see him — no, I want to see him again. Confusion aside, being around him makes me happy.

This morning, as I sit in an empty house with Mom and Tony both gone for work, I contemplate my options. There’s a local farmers market Mom told me about that I might check out, or I guess I could find another local trail to go for a walk. Or I could go for a swim.

In the end, food wins out. A trip to the market and then a day in the kitchen will hopefully distract me enough from all the Kai-related things I should be making peace with in my head and my heart.

But apparently, the man himself isn’t going to let me off that easily. I pick up my phone when it vibrates with an incoming text message.

KAI: Morning, whatcha up to? I’ve got the morning off before warmup for the game tonight.

I stare at the screen, chewing on my lip. Do I… Yes. I do.

ISABELLE: Mom told me about the market on Granville Island. I was going to check it out, grab some ingredients, then try out some new recipes.

KAI: I volunteer as tribute

KAI: I mean taste tester

KAI: I mean can I come?

ISABELLE: Sure. Meet me there?

KAI: Or I could pick you up.

My breath catches. Kai coming to Tony’s house to pick me up feels risky. Then again, we’re friends from college. That’s what everyone — Tony included — believes. Maybe it’s not that weird for him to pick me up here.

ISABELLE: Okay.

KAI: Cool. See you in an hour?

KAI: Wait. Where does coach live…

Just less than an hour later, I’m standing nervously near the front door, peering out the window every few seconds to see if Kai’s here.

Inwardly, I’m rolling my eyes at my nerves. It’s not like we’re going on some romantic outing, it’s a public market, for goodness’ sake.

Then again, it’s Kai.

And the more time we spend together, the harder it’s going to be to leave him again in a few months.

I see his car pull up with a low rumble, and step back to take in a few slow, deep breaths. We’re…friends. This is fine.

But good God, does he have to be so sexy? Even in jeans and a hoodie, with a ball cap on his head, he’s just…yeah.

I open the door before he has a chance to knock and plaster a sunny smile on my face.

“Hey, I hope you’re ready to carry bags for me.

” I thrust the aforementioned reusable shopping bags toward him, and he takes them with a chuckle.

Turning back to lock the door, I give myself a mental lecture about appropriate behaviour between friends.

Once I’m sure I’ve got myself under a bit more control, I turn back. Kai’s waiting patiently with an easy grin. “Pack animal at your service. Will work for food.”

“Some things never change,” I tease back.

The drive isn’t too long, about twenty minutes or so. I’m thankful Kai doesn’t seem to feel the need to fill it with chatter, instead, we leave the radio on and sit in a relatively comfortable silence.

Granville Island is a really unique place. I can’t stop staring out the window in wonder as the road winds down underneath a bridge, to reveal a colourful building that I think houses the indoor market, and many more low buildings with lots of boutique stores I can’t wait to explore.

The parking gods are on our side as Kai finds a spot close to the center of the island.

“Wait, is it really an island?” I ask as we get out and I continue to look around. “We never crossed over any water.”

“Don’t think so,” Kai replies, coming around the car to stand at my side. “Pretty sure it’s attached to the mainland, kinda like a bit of land that just sticks out. But Granville Island sounds better than Granville land that sticks out.”

“That’s true.” I grin, and we set off.

“Market first or exploring first? Don’t think I didn’t see you eyeing some of those stores.”

“Definitely exploring first.” I immediately start walking in the direction of a glassblowing studio.

There’s an artist working, the orange glow from the forge as mesmerizing as the globe of glass he’s spinning.

We stand and watch him for a while before going into the adjacent shop and looking at the pieces for sale.

They’re all stunning, and it’s hard to leave without buying everything.

The next store is a clothing boutique, which we skip, then an outdoor outfitter, and then a charter boat company. We make our way around, stopping in at a few more artisans and gift shops, before Kai’s stomach starts to growl loud enough that I can hear it even over the loud squawks of seagulls.

“Seriously? Did you skip breakfast or something?” I tease as he rubs his chest with a rueful grin.

“No, but I normally have a second breakfast.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s go feed you and your bottomless pit of a stomach.”

We make our way to the actual market building, and I’m instantly transported back to Italy.

To the open-air markets I love to visit with all the old nonnas shouting over one another, haggling prices for fresh seafood.

The smell of herbs or fresh bread or beautiful flowers, the colourful crowds and even more colourful displays of produce.

“This is amazing,” I say, and Kai moves his hand up to my lower back. I let him guide me through the stalls, chuckling as I stumble more than once because my neck is craning to allow me see everything.

“Food first, then you can wander to your heart’s content.”

Reluctantly, I let him lead me away from the market, and into a different part of the building, filled with prepared food stalls. He goes straight to one, a French patisserie from the looks of it, and orders two coffees and some pastries.

I shouldn’t be surprised when I take a sip of the one he hands me, but I am. “Is that orange?”

He nods, a pleased look on his face. “Yup. They have a homemade syrup made from candied Valencia orange peels. First time I saw it on the menu, I had to try it.”

I take another sip of the coffee, infused with a delicate citrus flavour. “Oh my God, that’s so much better than the crap I used to make.”

“Well, instant coffee with that artificial shit can’t really compare with a French espresso and homemade syrup.”

I smile over my coffee cup as he devours a ham-and-cheese-stuffed croissant in three bites. “True. How was the croissant?” I arch a brow at him, and he has the decency to look a little guilty.

“Good. Want me to get another?” A crumb is on his chin, and without thinking, I reach over and wipe it away.

“Nah, it’s okay. But if you eat that entire chocolate one without giving me a bite, I will end you.”

He grins wolfishly, lifting the pastry and taking a large bite.

“Kai!” I protest, but then he holds it out in front of my mouth. I inhale the aroma of buttery, flaky pastry and rich chocolate before taking a bite, pulling the entire thing out of his hands.

Without another word, I finish the croissant. Damn, that’s good.

“Is the beast in your stomach satisfied enough that we can shop now?” I ask after wiping my lips with a napkin.

Kai pushes back from the table and picks up all of the shopping bags. “Lead on.”

I grin, my mind jumping ahead to all of the stalls we walked past, mentally forming a shopping list. I’ve got a few recipes I’ve been dying to experiment with. Dishes I can’t wait to serve in the restaurant back home.

But that plan changes when I suddenly remember going out for dinner with Kai one night, and how much he raved about the pasta dish he ordered. Why or how I remember that one particular evening over eight years ago, I don’t know, but I’m going with it.

“What time do you have to be at the field?” I ask.

“2 pm. Why?”

“No reason,” I reply evasively.

“Hmm.” He stares at me for a second, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Fine, let’s go.”

As promised, he holds the bags that I fill with a fennel bulb, fresh garlic, and beautifully bright yellow lemons.

At another stall, I can’t resist getting two bottles of an incredibly deep and rich-tasting olive oil, one to leave with Mom and Tony, and one to use today and leave at Kai’s place.

Fresh, handmade pasta is next, and again, I pick up several different varieties.

At the butcher, I select some pancetta, and next door at the cheese stall, I’m delighted to find my favourite brand of parmigiano cheese.

The hardest decision is at a bakery stall, but I settle on a fresh focaccia that smells almost as good as the one Gianni makes.

I turn to Kai as we head to the stall that will have the last few ingredients I need. “Do you have any eggs?”

He nods, and I turn back and select the two things I’m missing for the dishes I want to cook for him. If he’s figured out what I’m making, he doesn’t let on as we head back to the car.

“Am I dropping you off at your mom’s place?” he asks casually as he pulls out of the parking lot.

“I was hoping I could come back to your apartment and cook for you.”