Page 8

Emmie

Coffee. It’s just coffee. And yes, it’s with the same boy I allowed to break me into a thousand pieces, but isn’t that why I’m here, staring out of the window like some infatuated stalker. Questioning myself as to whether he’s really going to show up. Because I need answers.

I spent the entire summer typing out text message after text message, listing all the things I was desperate to know, only to delete them before I hit send.

Partly because I didn’t want Kai Banks to know I was thinking about him, and partly because I was terrified that every intrusive thought I was having, was true.

The bell rings above the coffee shop door, snapping me from my thoughts. And there, staring right at me, is Kai. He looks tired, his hair’s dishevelled and dark circles sit beneath his eyes. We’re a week into studies and even I’m not stupid enough to know that’s the reason he looks so worn.

He drops down in the seat opposite me. “Thanks for meeting me,” he mutters, and I note his voice is gravelly from too much alcohol and cigarettes.

He’d texted me late last night asking to meet.

I’d suggested nine this morning on purpose.

Call me childish, but I knew he’d be hungover.

I guess it was a test to see how desperate he was to speak to me.

“Whose bed did you crawl out of to be here on time?” I ask, watching the way he flinches, like the sound of my voice might actually hurt.

He meets my gaze. “I slept in my own bed.”

I nod, slow and mocking. “What, no late-night art orgy? I’m disappointed.” He winces slightly. “Well, congratulations. That’s, what – your first night of celibacy since you hit campus? Should we alert the press?”

The waitress comes over and she immediately smiles brightly in Kai’s direction.

I scoff in annoyance, how desperate has she got to be to find this shell of a boy attractive.

He even stinks like a bar. “Just two coffees,” I snap before she even asks the question.

Her smile falters and she gives a stiff nod before turning on her heel and marching off.

“Don’t you ever get tired of it?” I ask, staring after her.

Kai’s brows pull together. “Tired of what?”

“That,” I say, flicking my hand in the waitress’s direction.

“Girls fawning all over you like you’re some kind of tragic poetry boy with a good jawline and a bad habit.

” His mouth opens as though he’s going to argue, but I cut in.

“Don’t answer,” I mutter, turning to stare out the window instead. “It’s none of my business.”

“I want to clear the air,” he begins.

“The air you polluted with your toxic friends?” I ask, clasping my fingers together and staring him dead in the eye. “Are you clearing the air from the years of ignoring me and laughing while everyone made fun of me, or after, when you took my virginity as part of a sick bet?”

His face pales, as if I’ve physically struck him. Good. I want him to feel it. “That’s not what it was,” he says quietly, his voice hoarse.

“Oh no?” I lean forward slightly. “Then what was it, Kai? Enlighten me. Because from where I’m sitting, you played a game, and I was the loser who didn’t know the rules.”

He exhales hard, dragging a hand through his hair. “You think I haven’t thought about that night every single day since it happened?”

“I hope you do,” I snap. “I hope it haunts you.”

The waitress returns then, placing two coffees between us with far less enthusiasm than before. She vanishes quickly, probably sensing the air between us is thick enough to slice.

“It wasn’t what you think,” he says.

My stare sharpens. “So, there was no bet?”

“No.”

“No dare?” He hesitates for a second too long and I lean forward. “So, they dared you to sleep with me.”

“No,” he snaps, before immediately adding, “Yes. But not like that.”

I slam my hand against the table, the sharp crack slicing through the café’s quiet hum. A few heads turn. I don’t care. “Then how, Kai? How is a dare to sleep with me, not like that?”

He scrubs a hand over his face. “It was that night when Austin kissed Ava. Everyone was drunk, throwing around stupid dares. Bella dared me, and I told her to piss off.”

“And then what?” I hiss.

“Nothing. She never mentioned it again. I figured it was done.”

“You didn’t think to tell me?” His silence says it all. “Not after we kissed?” Still nothing. “Not right before we fucked?”

His hand reaches for mine, but I pull away, tucking both hands into my lap where he can’t touch them.

“Emmie, everything that happened between us was because I wanted it. I wanted you. ”

My mouth twists. “Congratulations. You got me.” He flinches. His eyes brim with shame. “Did it feel as good as you imagined?”

“The part where it was just us? Yeah. A hundred percent. Because that’s how it always is, Em. When it’s just the two of us, everything feels right.”

Tears prick at my eyes, but I blink them back. “So, you didn’t take the dare. But you completed it anyway. Funny how that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“I can’t take any of it back. Not the dare. Not that night. But I can try to make things right now. You left so quickly, I didn’t get a chance to tell you the truth. I tried calling. You ignored me.”

“I blocked you.”

“And your mum warned me to stay away.”

“Because I finally told her what you did.”

“And Ava,” he swallows hard. “She wouldn’t even look at me.”

“Do you blame her?” My voice softens, but only slightly. “She thought you were different. A good guy. That you were finally becoming someone decent.”

“I was trying,” he says quietly. “If I could take it back –”

“Well, you can’t.”

“So, tell me how I fix it, Emmie,” he says, his voice breaking slightly. “Because living without you, it’s hell. And now you’re here, right in front of me – it has to mean something. It feels like fate, or . . . I don’t know, a second chance.”

I let out a hollow laugh, shaking my head.

“Fate? Is that what we’re calling it now?

You screw me over, forcing me to leave so I don’t have to listen to the gossip, and when I finally start breathing again, you show up talking about destiny?

” I lean back, folding my arms. “Maybe fate brought me here to finally tell you I’m done. ”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just stares at me like I’ve knocked the air out of his lungs. His jaw clenches, then loosens. His fingers twitch on the table, as if he wants to reach for me again but thinks better of it. “Don’t say that,” he says finally, voice low. “You don’t mean it.”

I arch a brow. “Don’t I?”

His eyes search mine, desperate, as if there’s still a version of us he can pull back from the fire. “I think about you every day,” he says quietly. “Every damn day. I see your face when I’m trying to sleep, hear your laugh in random places. It’s torture.”

“Did you think about me last night, Kai?” I ask and his brow furrows. “My housemate does art,” I add, and I see the pieces begin to fit together in his head. “Naked women. Orgies. Ring any bells?”

“I left,” he snaps.

“Right before or after you kissed your muse?” His jaw tightens.

“After,” he says, voice low. At least he didn’t lie.

A tiny breath escapes me, uninvited pain slipping through the cracks of my anger.

“Because right there, in that moment, you crept into my head again. As you always seem to do, Em. Reminding me that you’re everything I want. ”

I swallow hard, but I keep my arms folded. I can’t afford to let his words in. Not yet. Maybe not ever. “You should’ve thought about that before you made me into a laughing stock,” I say.

“I know I don’t deserve you,” he says finally. “But I still want to try. Even if it’s just one more conversation. One more chance to be better.”

I exhale slowly. My heart aches, but I keep my face unreadable. “Then stop trying to win me back with fate and feelings, Kai. Start by telling the truth. All of it.”

Kai

Truth . I watch as she walks out, not even bothering to look back. And then I pull out my mobile phone and open up a new text to her. If truth is what she wants, she can have them all.

Me: Truth 1. When I was nine, I stole half a birthday cake from the kitchen and blamed it on our cat. She got banned from the house for two weeks. I still feel guilty when I see her.

I watch through the window as she pauses and takes out her phone. She reads the message, and I think I see the hint of a smile pull at her lips before she tucks it away again and continues across campus.

By the time I get back to the flat, Seb is eating toast and looking as fresh as a daisy. “Where the hell did you go so early? I thought you were in bed.”

“Trust me, I feel like death. What the fuck was in that bottle last night?”

He grins. “Homemade vodka. Some kids pay for that shit.”

“So I missed an eventful night?”

He throws his piece of toast on the plate, groaning. “Man, it went from chilled, to messy, in minutes. I swear that never usually happens.”

“Someone mentioned an orgy?”

He grins wider. “I left the second shit got real. I’m all for sex but groups isn’t my thing. And where did you go?”

“Home. We’ve been partying since we got here,” I say, finally admitting it out loud. “I’m over it. I’m tired of pretending it’s still fun.”

Relief flashes across Seb’s face. “Thank God. If I have to do one more shot, I swear I’ll throw myself into traffic.”

I laugh hard, because I was bracing for him to mock me or ignore me and list the next event. But he gets it. And just like that, the weight I’ve been carrying, of acting like someone I’m not, starts to lift. Now maybe I can be the man Emmie deserves.

It’s an early start, but Emmie’s class begins at nine and I know she runs beforehand. I had to flirt shamelessly with the office girl to get a copy of her timetable, just to put myself in her path.

When I finally spot her jogging toward me, I turn my back and start stretching like I’ve been at it for ages. I’m breathing as though I’ve run a marathon. As she passes, she doesn’t break stride. I sigh and break into a jog to catch up.

“Morning,” I say, trying to sound casual.

She glances over, tugging out one earbud. “What are you doing?”

I flash a grin. “Just enjoying a morning run.”

She checks her watch. “At half seven?”

“Yep. Trying to get healthy.”

“Good for you,” she mutters, then picks up her pace, trying to leave me in the dust.

I push harder until I’m beside her again. “I could really use a running partner.”

“There’s a running club. Student Union have a sign-up sheet.”

“I was actually thinking something more one-on-one.”

She gives me a look. “I run to clear my head, Kai. Not clutter it.”

Direct hit. I huff a breath, still jogging beside her. “Okay, fair. But what if I promised not to talk?”

She shoots me a dry look. “That’d be a first.”

I laugh, even though it stings. “You’re brutal this early in the morning.”

“I’m always brutal with people who play games.”

Her pace quickens again, and for a second, I consider letting her go. Just watching her disappear down the path like I probably deserve. But I don’t. I push myself to match her, my heart pounding.

“I’m not playing games anymore,” I say, quieter this time.

She doesn’t look at me. Just keeps moving.

But I see the slightest flicker in her jaw, she’s biting back a reply.

“Look,” I say, breath ragged now, “you don’t have to forgive me.

Hell, you don’t even have to talk to me.

But I’ll keep showing up until you believe I’m serious. ”

Emmie slows to a stop and finally turns to face me, sweat on her brow, her breath steady but sharp. “I don’t want to believe anything, Kai,” she says, her voice flat. “Believing you was a mistake the first time.”

And with that, she pops her earbud back in and takes off again. I watch her go, with my hands on my hips, and lungs burning.

The following day, I show up early again.

It’s barely seven-thirty, and the air is sharp with that clean morning chill.

I stretch like I’m some kind of fitness freak, even though my lungs still haven’t forgiven me for yesterday, but whatever.

I’ve faced worse pain than shin splints and bruised pride.

I wait. And then I see her. Except she’s not alone.

Landon’s with her.

They jog side by side, as if it’s something they do every day.

She’s laughing at something he says, hair tied back in that messy ponytail that somehow still makes my chest ache.

He’s running close, too close, and there’s something about how he leans toward her, how natural it looks, that makes my stomach twist.

She doesn’t even notice me at first.

I stay still, hidden in plain sight, pretending to adjust my laces while trying to piece myself back together. She looks so at ease with him.

Then she spots me. And for half a second, her smile falters, but then she turns her attention straight back to Landon and keeps running.

“Morning,” I call, casually as I can manage.

Emmie slows just a touch, eyes narrowing. “You again,” Emmie says, pulling out one earbud. Landon clocks me and smirks.

“Yeah. Turns out I’m fully committed to this new healthy lifestyle,” I say, falling into pace beside them.

Landon raises a brow. “You run this early often?”

“Every day this week,” I lie smoothly. “Gotta keep the heart rate up.”

“I’m surprised you even have a heart,” Emmie mutters.

I smile at that. That’s the Emmie I know; sharp tongue, zero bullshit. “Mind if I tag along?” I ask, looking at her, not him.

She glances between us. “It’s a public path.”

“Perfect,” I say, picking up my stride to match hers. “I could use the motivation.”

Landon speeds up slightly, he’s turning this into a challenge. Cool. I’ve played worse games. I fall into step, ignoring the burn in my legs and the tension riding my shoulders.