Page 12 of Promises We Meant to Keep (Love in Massachusetts #1)

twelve

Elia’s ears buzzed with the echo of voices. The mock meet had gone perfectly. She couldn’t have expected her students, even the new ones, to do any better than they had. She sighed as she relaxed onto the hotel room bed and closed her eyes.

She just needed a little bit of quiet.

The adrenaline running through her body was something she craved, and she enjoyed it so much. It had been her ever-present companion all day, and even through dinner when they were all eating and finishing up their meal.

The kids had it too.

Even Kamryn had been smiling more than she usually did, and Elia hadn’t seen her pick up her laptop to get office work done all day. Although she had taken a couple of phone calls during some of the breaks.

Elia was enjoying the silence in her room. She’d needed this to come down from the high of the competition.

Four rapid knocks at her door startled her.

She winced and whined to herself as she pulled her weary legs over the edge of the bed and stood up on them, her feet bare on the carpeted floor. Though she wasn’t about to put shoes on either. Her feet were more sore than her legs.

Pushing her face close to the door and looking out the peephole, she was surprised to find Kamryn on the other side. She’d expected a student, someone who needed her for something. Then again, she wasn’t used to having another faculty member with her on these trips. Just the parent volunteers.

Sliding the lock, Elia opened the door and canted her head to the side. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing.” Kamryn frowned, her gaze dropping from Elia’s face, down her body in a slow perusal until she landed on Elia’s bare toes and flicked back up. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“What do you need, then?” Elia kept her hand on the door, not sure if she wanted to permit Kamryn into the room. It wasn’t something that she was generally opposed to, but there was something so personal about the space being hers, somewhere she could unwind and not think about anyone or anything else.

“I just thought…” Kamryn trailed off, glancing down the hallway when another door opened and closed, and they heard giggling laughter that they knew was from their students. “I should probably go check on that.”

“They’re fine.” The sudden possibility of Kamryn walking away made Elia’s shoulders tighten. She didn’t want Kamryn to leave—not yet, not until she had some answers. “What did you need, Kam?”

“I don’t need anything.” Kamryn took a step back.

Elia shot her hand out and pressed it to Kamryn’s wrist, noticing far too late that Kamryn was holding a small brown paper bag in between her fingers. “What’s this?”

“What I thought you might enjoy.” Kamryn pulled her lip between her teeth and shook her head, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment.

“Come on in.” Elia held the door open, letting Kamryn walk right by her. The hotel room door slammed shut a bit louder than she anticipated, causing her to jump slightly from the noise.

Giving Kamryn the chance to sit in the single chair in the room, Elia sat on the edge of the mattress, her hands on either side of her. Elia didn’t take her gaze from Kamryn as she plopped down next to her on the bed and handed over the bag.

“So what’s inside? Contraband?”

Kamryn laughed with a shake of her head. “I did think about buying those little shots you can take, the ones you pull the lid off and just take. But I didn’t think that would be very appropriate for a new, young Head of School. What do you think?”

Elia knew the dig when she heard it, but it was said with such a kindness that she didn’t suspect Kamryn was still hurt over her comments. “Probably a wise choice, this time.”

“There’s plenty of time to make bad choices.” Kamryn’s voice was back to that flirting tone that Elia had found so intoxicating the last time they were in a situation like this. It wasn’t any less intoxicating this time, in fact, probably more since they were in such small and confined places.

And because this was forbidden.

Elia sucked in slowly as her fingers crunched the crisp bag. Whatever could Kamryn have gotten inside? She was curious, but she also didn’t want to spoil whatever this delicious tension was between them.

“Am I going to like it?” Elia asked, still refusing to open the bag.

Kamryn laughed, her eyes lighting up with joy. “Yeah, I think you’ll like it. You really are holding onto this like a secret admirer gift.”

“Is it from a secret admirer?” Elia’s heart pattered steadily, and her entire body warmed with the thought that perhaps Kamryn did like her a little more than a boss should like someone she supervised.

“She’s not so secret, now is she?”

That phrasing confused Elia. She studied Kamryn carefully, but didn’t push for another answer. They were getting dangerously close to something, but she wasn’t sure what exactly. And as much as it scared her, it excited her even more.

Elia took the bag and unfolded the top of it slowly. She built up the anticipation with each passing second. She peered into the opening of the bag, finding a silver handle. Confused, Elia reached into the bag and pulled out a brand-new whisk.

The laughter burbled up from her belly and left her lips in a loud guffaw. “You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not.” Kamryn was fully grinning back at her.

Elia couldn’t hold it in any longer. The joy filled her, and she held the whisk up in the air and chanted, “Whisk! Whisk! Whisk!”

Kamryn joined in the chant before they both dissolved into a fit of giggles together. Elia’s breathing became rapid and short, and she held a hand to her chest with the whisk still in her fingers. Pressing her free hand against Kamryn’s thigh, she clasped onto her, not letting go.

“I thought some traditions should be kept,” Kamryn finally said.

Elia shook her head and wiped the tears that were budding from under her eyes. “Do you know how long it took me to weed this one out?”

“How long?” Kamryn settled her hand on top of Elia’s, giving it one long squeeze before letting go.

Elia moved her hand off Kamryn’s thigh, a sudden coldness washing through her. If Kamryn had been so concerned about consent before kissing, then she probably felt the same way before touching, even when it wasn’t sexual in nature. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you.”

“It’s all right.” Kamryn gave her a sweet smile. “You can if you want.”

Unsure about how to feel about that, Elia moved on from it to avoid instead. “It took six years after you graduated to get rid of the whisk .” She was shaking her head again. “You really want to bring it back?”

“Why not? It was an amazing tradition.” Kamryn took Elia’s hand back in her own, lacing their fingers.

Elia stared down at their hands. Comfortable. That’s what this was. Kamryn wasn’t Abagail when touching her—this was far from friendly—but she wasn’t put off by it either. She was sure that there was no other intention than to connect physically as well as emotionally.

“Then let’s do it in the morning,” Elia answered, her voice far wispier than she intended it to be. Normally she’d correct that, but tonight, she didn’t have the energy for that. And this felt so nice. Actually, better than nice. This was amazing.

“Don’t want to be up until three in the morning every competition talking about the highlights?”

Elia smiled and shook her head. “I’m not as young as I used to be. So three in the morning is well beyond my bedtime. But you’re free to stay up that late if you want to start a new tradition.” Elia didn’t say the second part—that it would likely die when Kamryn left, having no one to continue it that late into the night. What would she do when Kamryn left?

That thought struck her hard.

Elia didn’t want to think about it. She couldn’t imagine the next semester without Kamryn there. She’d been so helpful in so many ways, and she was such a hard worker. “I think the morning would be a better option, don’t you?”

“To use our whisk microphone as our talking stick? Absolutely.” Kamryn squeezed Elia’s hand again, but she still didn’t let go. “What’s your highlight though? I don’t think I can wait until breakfast for that one.”

“Hmm.” Elia was going to have to think about that one. She had many. But it had been such a long time since she’d participated in the practice of lifting those good things up and sharing them with others. She missed it. It was such a good practice that she should have kept up, just in a form that didn’t involve staying awake immediately after a competition. “Our new students did well, even with only having a month to prepare. They exceeded my expectations.”

“That’s a good one,” Kamryn replied. “And I agree with you. What else?”

“Is this because I have the whisk still?” Elia very nearly handed it over to Kamryn, but she still wanted it.

“Of course. Whoever has it does the talking.” Kamryn bumped their shoulders together. “What else?”

“Having you here.” The words were out before Elia could stop them, but they were the truth. “I’ve enjoyed having another faculty—or admin—member here and coaching the team, but having you in particular has a been a ray of sunshine.”

“Oh.” Kamryn’s cheeks turned red, and the moment sobered slightly. “I didn’t expect that.”

“I like to be unexpected.” Elia flipped the whisk around and held it for Kamryn. “Your turn.”

Kamryn held her breath as she took the whisk in her free hand, holding it up to her lips like a microphone. “Is this thing on?”

Elia smiled. “Sure is.”

“Good. Because being part of the Speech team again has been the exact respite I’ve needed. Whether we win or not, I’m here for it for as long as I can be.” Kamryn settled the whisk onto her lap. “And I hope that’s longer than a semester, even if I’m not Head of School anymore.”

“Would you stay on in a different role?”

“If one opened up that I was qualified for, I’d certainly apply. But I’ve also been applying at this school for eight years now. This is the first time I managed to snag an interview, and I’m pretty sure the only reason I was considered is because it was an emergency.”

“They’re quite closed off about who gets in and who stays out. Very cliquey,” Elia replied, taking the whisk back. Their fingers brushed, and heat rushed from Kamryn’s hand into hers. She adored that feeling, and the sensations that ran through her body. She wasn’t ready to give that up just yet. “All of the prep schools are. At least I’ve found.”

“Have you worked at schools other than Windermere?”

Elia shook her head, the sadness over her circumstances sweeping back into her. “I worked in a public school before starting at Windermere. But I applied to other schools shortly after you graduated. None would have me.”

Kamryn frowned, a deep line forming in the center of her brow. “Why?”

“That’s a story for another night.”

“You keep saying that and avoiding.” Kamryn touched the whisk. “You have the whisk.”

Elia’s lips twitched, the rush of the moment moving through her and passing instantly. “The whisk is for happy things.”

“Ah.” Kamryn started to move her thumb back and forth alongside Elia’s. “I do hope that someday you’ll trust me enough to tell me what happened.”

Elia nearly grimaced. She stared out the dark window across from them and extricated her hand from Kamryn’s. The moment had gone from comfortable and flirtatious to exhausting and traumatic. She didn’t want to remember those years. In fact, if she could forget them and move on, she’d love that.

“I don’t make promises that I can’t keep.”

“I didn’t ask for one,” Kamryn responded.

Elia’s hand was cold with Kamryn’s pressed into it. She’d been the one to break the happiness of the moment. That was the only rule about the whisk—sadness wasn’t allowed. Although they hadn’t told anyone those rules in twenty years. Elia flicked the whisk against her palm.

“Thank you for bringing me this.”

“Of course,” Kamryn smiled again, pulling those rays of sunshine back inside her and collecting them. She’d always been such a happy kid. She’d never faced trials like Elia had, at least not then. Who knew about the intervening twenty years? “I’ll see you in the morning, Elia.”

Her name was so sweet from those lips. Elia nodded and watched as Kamryn left the room in silence. She was cast back into the silence she’d started in, the silence she had craved before—but now, she didn’t want it. She wanted Kamryn back in the room with her, laughing and teasing and flirting.

What was happening to her?

She couldn’t like her former student, could she?

What if the lie they were setting up and the roles they were preparing to play weren’t all that phony?

What if there was more under the surface?

Elia stared down at the whisk still in her hand. She was being ridiculous. Kamryn would never be interested in someone like her. She was too cold, too bitchy, and way too shut off from her feelings for that. Kamryn deserved the world and the sun and the moon and the stars when it came to romance.

Elia couldn’t give her that.

Even if she might want to.