I smoothed my shirt once more, ignoring the sharp edge of danger, a sheer drop off a cliff. Because how I felt didn’t have to be considered, not now. Not yet. I didn’t have to decide what to do or what would come. I was living in the moment just like everyone said you should. It shouldn’t matter that every moment was filled with Kash. But it did.
For now, I ignored it with every ounce of willpower I possessed, which was saying something. I had metric tons of willpower at my disposal.
I exited the bathroom, light on my feet, smile on my face. As I passed the couch, I leaned over the back and kissed my sister on the cheek.
“Look at you,” she said, craning her neck to see me. “I didn’t even know you owned jeans.”
“Lucky for me, I didn’t have to borrow yours. They would have been high waters on me.”
“Maybe you could bring them back in style.” At the look on my face, she added, “I’m just saying, if anyone can do it, it’s you.”
“I’ll leave that to Audrey Hepburn.”
“I can’t believe you’re going to work in the dirt. What are you going to do about your manicure?”
“I have an appointment tomorrow during lunch, thank you very much.”
She smiled at me, proud and a little smug. “I’m proud of you.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know. Loosening up. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this relaxed, not even when we were teenagers. You were too busy planning all the ways to crush someone in debate or working on your student council calendar to actually have fun or relax.”
“Hey, prepping for debate is fun.”
“Says you. But arguing is your love language, so I shouldn’t be surprised.”
I snorted a laugh and rolled my eyes. “Kash promised to teach me how to grow something.”
“You? I’ve seen your cactus graveyard. Kash doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into.”
“He really doesn’t,” I said on a laugh as something in my chest twisted.
A pause while she watched me. “You like him.”
An answering sigh from deep in my lungs. “I really do.”
She turned, folding her arms on the back of the couch with her brows drawn. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing. Not yet. I don’t have to decide,” I said for the thousandth time that week.
Carefully, she said, “No, you don’t. But at some point, you will.”
“I know,” I answered to my fingernails, not wanting to meet her eyes.
“It’s been weeks. I don’t mean to rain on your parade—”
“But you’re going to.”
“—but I’m going to,” she confirmed. “Things can be uncomplicated, but not forever. And not unless you’re booty calling and don’t actually like the other person. Which isn’t the case.”
“I know.”
“And now you’re going to the greenhouse on what can only be considered a date—”
“It’s not a date,” I insisted.
She gave me a look.
“What? We’re mucking around in the dirt, for God’s sake.”
Her look exaggerated. “It’s a date, and dates are supposedly verboten. Just like spending the night, which was also forbidden, and which you have also disregarded.”
“You sound awfully judgy,” I snarked.
“I’m not judging, I’m trying to get you to admit the truth. You like him, Lila, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re allowed to have feelings for him.”
Shock hit me first, the simple and naked truth of it blinding. For a moment, I was stunned, not realizing something very important.
Ever since Brock, I’d been telling myself I wasn’t allowed to feel anything beyond lust, not with Kash and not so soon after the way things ended with Brock.
I hadn’t even realized I’d been hiding behind that lie.
The twist in my chest unfurled with the permission to care about him. “I … I hadn’t thought about it like that.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You seem convinced there’s something in the way, but what if there isn’t?”
“And what if it’s not that easy?”
“And what if shrimp learn to whistle and chickens grow teeth? If you want to really live in the moment, stop worrying so much about what if and just go for it. Living in the moment means damning the consequences. It’s about choosing what you want instead of what’s safe.”
“And what if I’m not ready to choose?” I asked, knowing that if I did, there would be no turning back.
But with a knowing smile, she said, “Pretty sure you already did.”
A laughed touched with surprise and relief and a healthy amount of fear shot out of me. Because she was right, and it was a bare and honest truth. I’d already chosen. And I’d chosen Kash.
“When did you get so smart?” I asked.
“When I fell in love and got knocked up. As dumb as pregnancy has made me, I feel super freaking wise. Ask me about preeclampsia or mucus plugs. Go on, ask me.”
I made a gagging sound around my laughter. “Mucus is just as bad as moist.”
“Worse. At least moist can be associated with happy things like cakes and vaginas. There is nothing happy about mucus.”
I turned for the door, shaking my head, scooping up my bag on the way. “I love you, weirdo.”
“Love you too. Have fun on your date.”
With a parting rolling of eyes over my shoulder, I said goodbye and trotted down the stairs, musing over the revelation.
I wondered when it had happened. In the small hours of some long night, wrapped in his arms. Eating takeout in bed for dinner every evening—me in his T-shirt, him in nothing but sweatpants and a smile. The night he’d first kissed me and promised he’d give me all I wanted. Or was it before? Had I known before I’d recognized the feeling? Had I leaned into him instinctively, knowing without knowing that he was good for me?
With some certainty, I realized that I didn’t want him to be my rebound or fling or distraction. What I didn’t know what whether or not he felt the same.
I’d known Kash for more than a decade, and I’d never seen him with a girlfriend. Girls, sure. But steady relationships? Never. Even now, the only woman I knew of was Ali, and even that was enigmatic. I didn’t feel it was my business to ask, as if speaking of serious things, such as past relationships, was oddly intimate, too close to a true relationship status, which we avoided discussing whenever possible. It was clear in the way he’d proposed our arrangement and the history of his relationships—or lack thereof—that he wasn’t looking for anything more. Never mind with me, the prissy, stiff girl who was so unlike him.
But that didn’t change the fact that I did.
And now that I knew, there was only one thing to do.
Tell him.
Deep down, I’d known I’d catch feelings, even if I’d insisted in the frivolity of a fling. But I’d thought it’d be easier to manage. Be more clear, how I felt. Take longer to develop.
Brock and I hadn’t agreed to be exclusive until we’d been dating for six months. I love you had come somewhere around a year—after we were living together. In college, I’d dated Chad for three full years, and we’d never even discussed living together. Before I’d left LA, Todd and I had seen each other for a year and never even referred to each other in relationship terms like boyfriend, girlfriend, or even an It’s Complicated Facebook status.