Page 33

Chapter thirty-one

Isabelle

Waking up with Kai Yamaki between my legs? Definitely a good morning.

"There she is.” He lifts his head, his thumb still stroking circles over my flesh. “I wondered how long it would take for you to wake up.”

I blink sleepily, my brain still catching up to reality. “In my defense, I was having a really good dream.”

He leans down and licks my slit. “Better than this?”

I moan as he sucks my clit into his mouth and slowly slides a finger inside of me. “Nope. This is definitely better than dreaming about a pool boy feeding me pasta.”

His hand stills. I bite my lips and keep my eyes closed.

“You were dreaming about another man. While I was eating your pussy?”

I can’t control it. My body starts to shake with laughter. It doesn’t take long for Kai to realize what’s going on.

“You fucking brat.” He blows a raspberry on my stomach, making me squeal before I go back to giggling. “I should withhold orgasms just because of that. Not funny, Isabelle.”

“It was a little funny,” I protest, still consumed with laughter. “Your face, when I said pool boy. It was priceless.”

He’s shaking his head when I struggle up to sitting and pull on his arms. He comes up my body, and I lean back against the pillows, bringing him with me so we’re snuggling, half of his weight on me.

His head is resting high on my chest, but my nipples are easily in reach of his mouth.

I kind of wonder how long it’ll take him to realize that.

“I’m sorry. I was only joking. There was no pool boy, but there was pasta.”

Kai makes a grumbling noise of acknowledgment. “What I was eating was better than any pasta.”

I run my fingers through his hair before kissing the top of his head. “Thank you.”

His arms tighten around me as he rolls us so that we’re both on our sides, facing each other. “This is the first time you’ve slept over in my bed.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” I tease, even as my heart rate quickens.

“Can you stop teasing for a second, Iz?” His voice is serious, and I nod.

“Of course. Sorry.”

His lips quirk up slightly at the corners.

“It’s okay, baby, I love your sense of humour.

It’s why things were so good between us.

Because we could be goofy and silly together.

Everything was fun with you. But…” He trails off, his gaze dropping away.

“Something feels different this time. Waking up with you, I mean. I know we did it at the cabin, but having you here, in my apartment? It’s different, y’know? ”

I do know. It feels different to me, too, but in a really amazing way.

Which is scary. It feels right to be here, waking up with him.

But it wasn’t a decision we talked about last night, it just sort of happened.

Only now, I’m terrified that Kai is going to say it can’t happen again, or that it’s pushing the line too far and we need to back off on everything.

Summoning my courage, I swallow to clear my throat and ask, “Different how?”

It takes a few seconds for him to answer. A few seconds in which I swear my heart skips about five beats.

“Different, good. But I don’t know what that means, exactly.”

Relief comes on, swift and intense.

“Different good. Yeah. I get that.” My fingers start to trace patterns along his chest. Dipping down to the tattoo over his ribcage, following the line of the numbers etched there. Numbers that only we know the true meaning.

“I like having you here, Isabelle. Wearing my clothes, sleeping in my bed.” He exhales, rolling onto his back and dragging a hand down his face. “I like having you in my life again.”

My heart simultaneously grows in size and cracks in half. I don’t know what to say to that beyond the simplest of answers.

“Me too.”

Our words hang in the air.

There’s so much more I want to say. About how he’s so much more than my college boyfriend, or my current friend.

How he’s my safe space, and how being around him again is making me realize how incomplete my life actually is in Italy.

How I was fooling myself into believing that was where I belonged, when maybe, all along, I belonged with him.

But the reality is, I have a life there. My dreams, my family, my future, it’s all tied up in a small town in northern Italy. I walked away from my life once before. And it was the hardest thing I ever did. Could I really do it again?

Then again, could I really give up Kai again?

I don’t say any of that to him. I can’t tell him I’m even considering whether I could stay in Vancouver. After last night, I’m even more certain that I have to make a decision about what I’m doing, and fast. He deserves that, at the bare minimum, from me.

Kai leans over and kisses the side of my head before rolling out of bed. “What do you think about waffles for breakfast. With fruit?”

“Sounds good,” I manage to say before flashing him a smile as he stands up and tugs on a pair of shorts. He comes around to my side of the bed and kisses me again.

“Cool. You stay here, I’ll bring you some coffee.”

After breakfast, I let Kai convince me to spend the morning with him before he has to get ready for his game. We go out for a walk, then, back at his apartment, he settles at one end of the couch with his sketchbook and I sit at the other with an e-book on my phone.

It’s blissful.

It’s fairly obvious what Kai’s drawing with the way he keeps glancing over at me. “Am I going to be allowed to see what you’re sketching when you’re done?” I finally ask, setting my phone down.

“We’ll see.”

“Kai.” I start to sit up, planning on moving positions so I can see, but he pulls his sketchbook into his chest and frowns.

“No, go back to the way you were.” His face softens. ”Please?”

Crap. I can’t say no to that. “Okay.” I move back to my end of the couch and pick up my phone.

But there’s no way I can focus on the words on the page.

Not with how he keeps looking at me, as if he’s not only seeing my current self, but also the me from eight years ago.

The last time I teased him about drawing me.

“Tell me why I always feel like Rose from Titanic when you want to sketch me.” I giggle, draping my arms dramatically across the ugly orange couch in Kai’s dorm.

“If you were Rose, wouldn’t you be naked?” He waggles his eyebrows, and I snort, grabbing the closest thing I can find and chucking it at him. It’s an empty sports drink bottle, and he catches it easily.

“Hey now, don’t attack the artist,” he protests, dropping the bottle to the floor. “You’re the one who compared yourself to a naked lady. Not me.”

“If I were Rose and you were Jack, I’d make room for you on the raft.”

“Thanks, I think.”

I watch him for a few minutes as his hand dances across the page. He’s so sexy when he draws. And the fact that he likes to draw me? Sends a thrill through me every time. I’m going to love him forever. And when we’re old and grey haired, I hope he still loves to sketch me.

I blink away the memories, only to see Kai closing his sketchbook, a soft, almost sad smile on his face.

“Done? Can I see it now?”

He shakes his head. “Not this one. Not yet.” He leans over, taking my hand and lifting it to his lips. “This one’s for me.”

Then he drops my hand, stands up, and puts the sketchbook back in the not-so-secret hiding spot on the bookshelf.

“I don’t want to kick you out, but I need to start getting ready to head to the stadium soon.”

I stand up, too, and stretch my arms overhead, the sleeves of Kai’s sweater I put on earlier falling down my arms. “That’s fine. I’m gonna go for a swim.”

Arms encircle my waist, and lips find my neck. “Are you coming to the game?”

I tilt my head to the side, giving him easier access. “Do you want me to?”

His arms tighten. “I will always want you to.”

“Then I’ll come.”

He kisses me with long, slow, languid strokes of his tongue, as if we have all the time in the world, and there’s not a ticking clock.

Multiple clocks, actually. One for him to leave for the game, and the bigger one we aren’t talking about.

The one that counts down to when I leave him for a second time.

After leaving Kai’s apartment, I swing by Mom’s house, grateful she’s away on a business trip and not home to ask where I was all night and grab my gear for a swim.

I refuse to allow my brain to go anywhere near thoughts of Kai, or feelings about Kai, or anything to do with Kai until I slip into the water and push off from the wall.

Only then, underwater, where no one can see if tears fill my goggles, or sobs escape my lips, do I let myself admit the truth.

I love him. I never stopped loving him.

I might be wrong, although I’m pretty sure I know him well enough to believe I’m not, but I think he might still love me, too.