“Wow” was all I could manage. Of course Kael’s sister was brilliant. It was impressive and ironic to compare this teenage prodigy riding a bus across town to get to her gifted school to my twenty-year-old dropout brother who managed to get himself in trouble even when he stayed home.
Kael turned the game back to me, and I continued with a basic question. “What do you like to do in your spare time?”
“Get massages”—he smiled at me—“and work on my place. I bought a duplex while I was deployed. Remember when you took me to the parking lot to get my keys? They were supposed to be left there, sitting on my tire, but they weren’t. Turner, the soldier we saw at the commissary, tracked the keys down and brought them to me.” He casually mentioned her like I hadn’t visualized a thousand scenarios involving the two of them since I’d met her.
“Anyway, I bought this run-down duplex and I’m fixing up the empty side now, and slowly working on my side so I can rent it out and eventually move into another one and repeat the cycle. Maybe spread out toward Atlanta when I can. Real estate is one investment that hardly ever decreases in value.”
“I bought my house for the same reason,” I told him. He broke a piece of orange off and popped it into his mouth. I could smell the sweetness from where I sat. My mouth watered.
“Well, the remodeling part. I don’t think I’ll ever own more than this.” I waved around the kitchen. “But I’m totally fine growing old and dying here because it’s mine.” I touched my chest. “I couldn’t stand living with my dad and Estelle anymore, so I found this little house and I’ve been slowly, I mean, s-l-o-w-l-y, fixing it up.” I dragged out the word for emphasis.
He laughed, inching closer to me. “I noticed.”
“Don’t you think I’m doing a good job?” I asked. “Didn’t you see the shower tiles?” Kael was flipping houses—he was semiprofessional at this point—and I bet he cringed at the number of unfinished projects scattered around my house.
“Yes, you are. You’re doing it on top of working and you live alone. Well, sort of alone.”
“‘Sort of’ is right. I do as much as I can, when I can.” I knew I procrastinated when it came to hard projects. I went through phases alternating between doing a ton and doing absolutely nothing for a few weeks at a time.
“What room do you feel the most at home in?” he asked, looking around the kitchen.
“Are we back to our game?”
He nodded.
I put some thought into my answer. “I’d have to say my room. I love my living room for hanging out with Elodie and sprawling across my couch on a weekend without having to wear a bra or socks.” What the hell, Karina! I felt my cheeks turning red, but continued. “And I love my kitchen for being open and cute. It’s easy to cook in, doesn’t get too hot. My bathroom will hopefully be a favorite after I finish it. But for now, my bedroom, specifically my bed, is my spot. Me and my phone and I’m set.”
He was close to me, so close that I could smell the fruit on his breath. I didn’t know if it was me or if it was Kael, but one of us was inching closer to the other as we continued our little game. By the time Kael and I had asked each other random questions like how long we could hold our breath and what noise could he listen to all day, every day without being annoyed, we were inches away from each other, both leaning out of our seats.
It was a magnetic pull. An irresistible attraction. He was by far the smartest, most philosophical person I had ever met. He had the answer to everything; he knew exactly who he was. I really loved that, and his conversation drew me out. I told him how I first fell in love with figuring out life on my own. I told him how I would never change who I was for another person. I didn’t exactly know who I would become, but I knew it would be on my terms.
“I could listen to you talk all day,” he said, surprising me.
“No one has ever said that to me before.”
“It’s become one of my favorite things to do. I’m going to miss this when I leave.”
His eyes were on my mouth.
My heart was beating out of my chest.
“I wish you weren’t going,” I confessed to him.
“One day you’ll regret saying that.” Kael’s breath covered my cheeks.
His lips were so close to mine. Was he going to kiss me, here, now, out of the blue, with the dew of orange on his lips?
My mouth begged for his to inch closer, to touch mine. I had never wanted something more than I wanted him to kiss me, there in my kitchen.
Was he going to kiss me?
His lips soon answered my question. He leaned over and put his soft mouth on mine. Everything went quiet then. The traffic on the street outside. The faint sound of the TV. Even the noise in my head went quiet. I had no words. No thoughts. Just him.
He was timid at first, gentle . . . until I pushed my tongue between his lips and tasted him. His fingers cupped the sides of my jaw and down the skin of my neck. He pulled me closer and I sighed, feeling relief from a pain I didn’t know I felt.
The flooding relief was immense but short-lived when Kael gently pulled away, kissing the corner of my mouth while whispering, “I’m so sorry.”
The high I felt was ripped away, replaced with a different kind of pain taking stabs at me. The look on his face wasn’t just surprise, but remorse.
“I’m sorry. I really don’t know what I was thinking,” he continued, wiping his mouth with his fingers. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
I nodded, almost agreeing in silence, but it felt like a rejection. “Yeah, you really shouldn’t have.” My words didn’t match what I was really feeling, but I wasn’t going to let him know that. I stood to leave the kitchen, wanting the safe haven of my room, wanting to curl up into a ball. That was it for me and oranges.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
I hadn’t heard from Kael at all the next day, and by the time I got home from work I was so exhausted that I barely wanted to undress, let alone shower. Dad and Estelle were still in Atlanta, so thankfully, no Tuesday-night dinner. Elodie wasn’t home, and she hadn’t told me where she was going. The whole day at work I tried to avoid her, because I didn’t want her to sense that something was off with me. I felt like she would know that Kael had kissed me when she looked at me. I didn’t plan on telling her. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust her, I just didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to protect whatever this was with Kael from anyone’s judgment or questions.
No matter how much I adored Elodie, managing her curiosity and keeping her entertained were more than I could handle today. I was emotionally drained and, after having two no-shows and a very high-strung walk-in who didn’t tip, I really wanted the house to myself. I collapsed into the cushions of my couch and closed my eyes. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this way.
After a quiet nap, and realizing how badly I needed to relax, I decided on a pampering shower, using nearly every product in the bathroom. I shaved, twice, and even double-shampooed my hair, just to feel more lavish. After the long, hot shower, I combed out my hair, braided it the best I could, and put on the only matching pajama set I owned. They were soft, a silky rose fabric that clung to my body—a gift, of course, from Estelle. Hardly my comfort zone, but I had to admit they looked pretty flattering; if only I had someone to appreciate me wearing them.