I saw the hurt reflected in her eyes, so I sat up and rested my hand on her leg. Like every time I touched her, a jolt went right through me, straight for the spot in my gut that was burning a few moments ago. It was the last sign to tell me that even if I was terrified to lose her, I had to do it. She was the only girl who was able to send jolts through me from a simple touch of her leg.
“I’m scared of losing you again,” I said. “I want this to work, but I’m terrified of losing so much if it doesn’t.”
“You don’t have to lose me. I’m right here.”
She slipped her fingers into mine, and feeling her grip made my heart settle in my chest. She finally gave me a smile that wasn’t empty. It was a smile than meant so much, that we were doing something right.
“We can take this really slow if you want,” she said. “And then see where we are in December?”
A silence fell. We stared at our laps, and I wondered if this was something I could really do. My schedule was crazy. Her schedule was crazy. Plus, the three-hour time difference. As complicated as it sounded, I knew one thing: The days without her in my life where nowhere near as bright as the days she was in my life. I’d done some pretty exciting things, but none of them compared to the excitement I felt knowing I had Kennedy to look forward to. Although the technicalities of our relationship were complicated, I’d rather give it a chance then spend the rest of my life wondering “what if.”
“Okay,” I said and pulled her hand up so I could kiss the back. She relaxed in my grip. “Let’s do this.”
She gave me an unsure yet hopeful grin. “What? Really?”
Seeing that gorgeous grin was contagious. It amazed me that a woman gave that kind of smile at the thought of being with me. I wanted to frame it and remind myself that I had a woman who looked at me like that. God, I was lucky.
“Really,” I assured her, feeling my lips match her smile. “It’s scary but feels right. I mean, this is what we promised back in high school, right?”
Her smile grew. “Right.” She kissed the back of my hand before resting her head on my shoulder. “It’s time to put that pact into action.”
“Only been wanting that for five years.”
Chapter Eight
“How’s the tattoo, Kat Von D?”
I pulled down my sweatpants to reveal the newly inked skin scabbing behind the clear tattoo bandage on my right hip.
“It’s sore,” I said and focused my phone on the rings.
Ever since I last saw Kennedy, we’d been FaceTiming daily. I called her when I came home from afternoon practice, and as I whipped up some food—or waited for Lillian or Talia to whip up food if it was their night to cook—I’d finally get to see her beautiful face take over my screen. She was usually in bed, finishing up studying or doing some kind of schoolwork, and we would talk for about two hours until she had to go to bed. Those were the tame nights. On the not-so-tame nights, we would talk longer, usually on the weekends, when she didn’t have to hang up around midnight her time. Our first FaceTime, when I got back home, we talked for six hours. It amazed me how much time flew during our nightly calls. If time didn’t exist, we could have kept going because the conversation never slowed down.
I’d just told her the story about going to Alexis to get my tattoo because she hadn’t stopped texting me about it since the Olympics were over. Kennedy and I got a good laugh when I told her about Alexis coming on to me while she tatted my skin, suggesting that I shouldn’t wear any underwear for a few days to prevent it from irritating my artwork. I knew she was serious, but she made me question it with that smug smirk of hers. And then a couple of minutes later, she asked me out to get drinks.
Kennedy’s eyes darkened as she looked at my tattoo, and my stomach did a flip when she licked her bottom lip. “It’s pretty hot,” she said salaciously.
“Oh yeah?”
She bit her lip and nodded. “Tattoo ex-girlfriend did a good job. You put it in the spot I recommended.”
“I did.” I winced when I let my pants fall back in place a little too forcefully against the sore skin. Alexis had made a good suggestion about not wearing underwear. Even the pants irritated it. I positioned the camera back on my face. “You said it was a good spot.”
“I can’t wait to see it in person.”
I straightened my back against my headboard. “That’s funny you say that because I got an idea at practice today.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Oh really?”
I nodded. “The International Swimming League starts up in two weeks. We have our first meet in Italy on the second weekend in October—”
She grunted through her laugh. “Oh, a meet in Italy. You say that so casually.”
“Because I’ll be in a pool instead of a winery. Zero time to sightsee. But anyway, I was thinking of making a pit stop in New York on my way back. Maybe for a week? Until I have to fly to Indianapolis the following week for another meet.”
“Really? A whole week? What about practice?”
“I can afford a week off,” I said.
It was a partial lie. If I took a week off, David wouldn’t be happy about it, but I really didn’t care. It was one meet, and coming off the Olympics, I wanted a break from the pool and schedules and diets and everything that came with the sport. All I wanted to do was relax, sleep in, eat whatever I wanted, and have many days dedicated to watching Netflix.
“What do you think?” I asked. “We could get a hotel room, have our own space. One in Manhattan close to campus, so that’s less time you have to commute to your classes. Escape your three roommates for a few days and live with me instead?”
“Oh my God, yes! I’m so freakin’ excited!”
“Me too. And remember senior year when you asked me to take you to dinner?”
“And we broke up instead? Yeah, that was a really good time,” she deadpanned.
“I’m thinking about making up for it and finally having that date.”
“Oh yeah? Are you asking me out?”
I cleared my throat and got into character: the nervous, awkward person asking someone out for the first time. “Kennedy, do you maybe want to go out sometime?” I even added puppy dog eyes and a nervous scratch on the back of my head.
“I feel bad for all the girls you’ve used that line on.”
I rolled my eyes but laughed at how she continued to troll me when I was trying to do something cute. “Kennedy Renee Reed, I want to take you out on a date.”
“When you say it so demanding like that, how can I resist? Now, answer this: Do you kiss on the first date?”
She laughed when she saw my grin dwindle. I took it as a jab about our dinner two years ago and the last time I saw her, when I left her apartment without kissing her. Why didn’t I kiss her? Because I was an idiot. She’d suggested we take it slow, and I guess I really ran with that idea. In my defense, I felt weird arguing with her one moment, making up the next, and then kissing her good night. Plus, after what happened at my going-away party, I really wanted our next kiss to be something special, not a swift peck while our argument still lingered in her apartment. I didn’t want to rush anything. We had to get to know each other all over again. If I wanted our relationship to last and develop into something deeper, I had to do it the right way.