“So, I realized there’s some things I need to tell you. You know the night you stayed over after Akio was in the hospital? You told me the next day that you never wanted to let me go. I know I have no right to ask this of you, but I really need you to believe me when I say I never wanted to let you go either. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”
I watch him swallow, his eyes never leaving mine.
“If you didn’t want to let me go, then why did you? And please don’t give me some spiel about protecting me. Because I know it’s more than that, that isn’t the only reason you left,” he says, pain and confusion twisting his features. And there it is, the burning question that’s been lingering around us like smoke for the past two months. The one I always knew and feared he’d ask. It sits at the table like an extra person between us and I don’t even know how to broach the subject. I can’t go there with him, not yet.
“I’m not sure that question is exactly first date material, but I need you to trust me that when I’m ready to talk about it, I will.” Because it’s not just one question. It’s all of them. All the ones that matter anyways.
Why did I break his heart?
Why did I leave without saying goodbye?
Why did I lie about the abortion?
Why didn’t I trust what we had?
I can barely answer those questions for myself, never mind for him. But I need to, I want to. He deserves that much.
“Okay,” he answers.
“Okay? You believe me?”
“Yeah, Kendall, I do, and I know that whatever happened, whatever I did to make you feel like we couldn’t be together, I’ll never make that mistake again,” he says solemnly.
“Kai, listen to me very carefully. You didn’t do anything. I fucked up and I made the biggest mistake of my life leaving you and I’ve regretted it every day since. Nothing I say now can erase what I’ve done but hopefully everything will make sense in time.”
“I hope so too.”
We spend the rest of our coffee date falling into easy conversation, holding hands and straddling the thin line between kissing and making out. Every so often, I have to remind myself we are in a public place and not in the privacy of my apartment or his car. I pull back slightly from a kiss that I wish would turn into more with a mixture of relief and disappointment. Relieved we haven’t yet made any mistakes we can’t come back from and disappointed because all the things I want to do to him, with him cannot be done in the company of other people.
I can feel his hot breath on my neck. Picture my hands trailing his muscled back, moving down to his torso to feel his abs carved from stone. I imagine his lips tracing my skin, his touch making me delirious with pleasure. Our bodies are molded together, moving in sync—
“Ken?” His voice snaps me out of the fantasy and his deep eyes searching my face ground me. I steel myself ready to answer his question I know is coming.
“What’s wrong?” he asks quietly, skimming his thumb over mine. I swallow and will myself to calm down, to continue breathing in and out slowly.
“It’s just… it’s so hard because I want to do this right. I want to take things slow, but it’s hard to do that when we already know what it’s like to give ourselves entirely to each other. To be all in. Does that make sense?” I whisper, hoping my rambling makes sense to him.
“Yeah, it does. I think you’re scared. Scared of what this could be. Scared to make a mistake. Scared that things will go wrong—or worse, they’ll go right. But I’ll tell you a secret. I’m scared too, and I know that we’re going to figure this out.”
“When did you get so wise?” I smirk.
“I don’t know but can I let you in on another secret?” he asks, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Do I have a choice?” I joke.
“I’m going to ignore that,” he says, his face turning more serious. “But honestly, Ken, we’re going to make mistakes. It’s inevitable. We just can’t let them ruin us this time, okay?”
“That sounds more like a hard truth than a secret,” I observe.
“Tomato, tomato,” he quips, looking thoroughly satisfied with himself.
Kai leaves the table to put in our order. He saunters over to the counter and it’s hard not to stare at him while he does—he’s just so easy to look at. His broad frame, his muscular build, and that smile that gives me heart palpitations. And I know I’m not the only one ogling him. The cute blonde behind the counter laughs and twirls her hair around her index finger as she talks to him. Everyone in this café is probably wondering what someone like him is doing with someone like me. I’m self-assured enough to know he only has eyes for me, but smart enough to realize every female in here would donate a non-vital organ just to be with him. In his orbit.
If I didn’t know him any better, I would be incredibly intimidated by his near Herculean body. His face that suggests he’s the offspring of Hawaiian gods, a byproduct of superior genes. But I do know him better. I’ve known him since I was five. So, I know he’s not a god among men—he just resembles one. The same way I know he hates melon. That he’s allergic to mushrooms. That when he sneezes, it’s always three times. That he sometimes gets disabling panic attacks and loathes public speaking. That he’s a textbook introvert who has been forced to act like an extrovert his entire life. So instead of being threatened by his beauty, I accept it for what it is, a small facet of whoheis. Knowing that underneath the broodiness, the stunning armor, the facade of unwavering confidence, there’s a human who bleeds just like the rest of us. And it’s this immutable fact that endears him to me even more.
He returns a few minutes later with his hands full and a tray piled with delicious food and steaming mugs of coffee. It takes me a second to realize he remembered all my favorite things.
“So, that’s one blueberry scone, one chocolate chip muffin, a bacon egg and cheese on a cheddar bagel to split, my coffee, and your abomination that you call coffee,” he rattles.