“Levi?” I barely made a sound. “This is really fun.”
His sad smile matches my own.
“You’re my favorite,” I whisper sadly, unwisely. My greedy fingers grab the bottom of his shirt. The thick flannel is soft and warm and soclose to his skin.
“Let me be there for you, Kit,” he almost begs. “Tell me what you need.”
Give him good things, God. Please fix this mess I’ve made. Take care of him.
“I don’t know what I need. But I know you deserve better than this.”
“Better than you? She doesn’t exist.”
My stomach ties in knots of confusion and honor. Surely he knows what I mean. “It’s time,” I blurt out. “I’m not getting better.” My throat tightens. “I care about you too much to keep on like this.”
“You’re not getting better from what? You mean about being broken?”
I tug his shirt and try to wordlessly explain, to say I’m sorry, to tell him how much I like him, admire him. This time, he turns away, dragging a hand through his hair. His raised arm pulls the shirt from my grasp. He stands there, hand still on his head, lost in thought or prayer.
Tell him what to do. Help him, God.
He spins back—calm, collected, determined.
I huff. He is impossible. No self-preservation. As rational as he normally is, logic won’t do the trick here. I won’t be able to talk him out of this.
Tic Tacs peek out from his pocket. I could grab them without touching him, and he’d make that inviting face I love. What am I thinking? No. That would not be kind. Or consistent with what I just said. I clasp my hands behind my back to keep myself in line.
He pulls the Tic Tacs out. “Are you going to steal these too?”
Before I know it, I’m grinning up at him, bending closer, smitten.
Help.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
I stepinto the night air, alone. Usually Kit is with me when I wander campus in the dark, but tonight I need to run off this energy, funnel my thoughts. I couldn’t swim right now—my breathing has to be perfectly timed. With the chaos in my head, I’d probably drown. For a few liberating seconds, the sound of my feet hitting the sidewalk dam it off. I need to sort my thoughts, though, so I let them rush in.
Austin didn’t hear me when I brought up his serial dating. The weirdness on the floor is no better. And I still have no ideas for another prank prep spot. I should be studying for my Linear Algebra test or working on that architecture project. But the debacle that crowds out all the others is Kit’s hobby of tearfully trying to quit me.
Meanwhile, Ada’s escalating. Every time after Jesus class it’s harder to walk away, and she’s picking up on my hesitation. To be touched, wanted … I like it more than I’d ever admit. But that’snot what I want. I want Kit. She’s the complete package, the one worth keeping. I can’t let Ada’s persistence—or her hands—wreck this for me.
Maybe I should ask Kit to meet me after class on Friday. If Ada saw how lovable Kit is, she might finally drop the antics. I’ll have a dessert from Miss Evelyn’s ready, some flowers too. I’d hire an orchestra if I thought it would help. I’d commission a sculpture. Anything to deliver the perfect ‘Sorry, I’m with her.’ Even though I’m not. Even though Kit’s assured me that it’s never going to happen. I press my fingers to the ache behind my eyes. I’m pathetic.
At first, I thought a little encouragement was all I needed to stay patient, but that was way off. The past few weeks, Kit has given me more than enough reasons to hold on—finding time for us to be alone, her heart-stopping grin, finally accepting my date invitations. That alluring look she let slip in the car. The Kit-level compliments. The way she keeps almost touching me. I can’t be imagining all of that.
She said I’m her favorite. She said she likes all of me.
I avoid the loop where the couples walk. That’s the last thing I want to see right now. My legs push harder, burning through the pent-up energy. I won’t be able to keep this pace for long.
I can’t take care of her if I have no idea what she needs. But I can’t cut ties while she acts like she really wants me.
My lungs strain for air. This is helping.
Her secret-keeping grows even more unbearable every time those big blue eyes hold affection, admiration, even longing?—
Kit, magnificent in that dress, so close the air crackled. Hair and skirt blowing around, sending whiffs of the orange-scented shampoo I’ve grown to crave. Those eyes taking me in like she wants nothing more. I really thought she was going to kiss me. I can’t stop thinking about it.
I’d give up Tic Tacs forever if she’d so much as touch my hand again. I let out a grunt. She’s robbed me of my heart, my mind, and now my cool too.
