I snatch up my wet clothes, carefully hiding my bra by wrapping my jeans around it. Then, opening his bedroom door, I step out into the hall and make my way to the living room.
When I hear Willie Nelson singing about blue eyes crying in the rain, I smile. Then Kai comes into view, and I can see his mouth moving, and I know he’s singing along silently.
“Are you still tone-deaf?” I tease, dropping my clothes by my shoes near the front door.
Kai scoffs, but he’s smiling. “Take that back. I’m not tone-deaf, I just prefer a different sound.”
“Mm-hmm.” I move to one of the stools lining the kitchen counter and take a seat, folding my arms over my chest. “Thanks for the clothes.”
He gives me a nod, but I see the flare of heat as he scans me. “No problem.” He moves out of the kitchen and takes a step toward the front door where my stuff is piled up. “Want me to grab your clothes and put them in the dryer with mine?”
“No!” I cry out, and he freezes, eyes wide. “Sorry. No, if you don’t mind me just going home in these, I’ll toss them in the laundry later.”
Thank God, he just shrugs. “Suit yourself.”
He disappears into his bedroom, only to return a couple of minutes later wearing grey sweatpants and tugging a Tridents T-shirt over his chest. Damn it, he did that on purpose, I bet. Walking out with the shirt only just over his head, giving me a peek at abs that are even more defined than I remember.
I look away before he catches me staring.
“Wanna watch a movie or something?”
There’s an odd vulnerability I can detect in his voice. Something I haven’t heard from him before. When I turn to him, he’s standing by the couch, his arms hanging loosely by his side, but I see the fingers on his left hand drumming against his leg. His tell for when he’s nervous.
I hop off the stool and make my way over to him. “Sure, sounds good.”
He drops down onto the couch, setting his feet on the coffee table in front of him and draping his arm along the back of it before clicking on a giant television with the remote.
For a second, I debate where to sit. But hell. This entire day has been filled with nods to our past. One more can’t hurt.
I sit beside him, but with my back against the arm of the couch and bend my knees, only to wiggle my toes underneath his thighs. His head whips around to look at me, but I keep my gaze trained on the TV.
“What do you want to watch?”
There’s a few seconds of silence before he clears his throat. “Whatever.”
I look over at him and hold my hand out for the remote. “I’ll choose three, and you choose from those?” Another old routine.
“Okay.”
We settle on one of the Marvel movies, and for the next two hours, I decide to let myself be in the past. We’re just two college kids, cuddling on a couch, laughing about a movie and eating pizza. It’s comforting, nostalgic, and so easy to fall back into who we used to be. By the time the movie ends, we’ve switched positions, and my head is resting on his shoulder. His arm is still along the back of the couch, as if resting it on me would be a step too far for both of us.
Kai turns the TV off, but neither of us moves right away.
“I guess I should go.”
He shifts and makes a noncommittal grunting sound.
But I should. Things are getting mixed up in my head, and lines are getting blurred.
I lift myself away from his chest and off the couch. But as I’m going to the door, my gaze catches on a familiar black spine sticking out from under a stack of books set on a shelf of his bookcase.
“You still draw?” I ask, moving over to pick it up with a smile building on my face. “Can I see what you’ve done lately?”
“No!” Kai leaps over the couch in a move that makes it clear he’s the athlete in the room. He snatches the sketchbook out of my hands and backs away, his eyes wild.
“Woah. Okay, sorry.” I try to keep the hurt from my voice but it’s impossible. I knew he kept his sketching a secret from his family, but never from me. Until now, I guess.
“I just…it’s not…ah, fuck.” His face falls in defeat. I step toward him, my hand lifting to cup his cheek.
