“Kai,” I cry, fresh tears streaming down my face. “You can’t. We just . . . we got caught up in this. We had rules.”
“Fuck your rules, Miller!” he bursts, pacing the hallway that leads to his room. “I’m not asking you to love me back.”
But I do.
“But I’m not going to keep pretending like I’m not absolutely fucking ruined from having you for the last two months. I know this is the last thing you wanted, but I’m not going to apologize. You’re my favorite person, Miller, and for once I had someone for me. I had someone taking care of me. After being alone for so long, I finally had someone looking out for me.”
“I haven’t been taking care of you.” I frantically shake my head. “You were the one taking care of me.”
“You’ve been taking care of my heart, Mills, and I’ve been taking care of yours.”
Using the back of my hands, I attempt to clean my face, but the stupid tears won’t stop falling.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew it’d scare you, make you run. But I guess it doesn’t matter anymore because you’re leaving tomorrow anyway.”
“You want a family to raise your son around. I don’t have that, Kai.” I swear I’m looking for anything to talk him out of his feelings. “I only have me.”
“I only want you! We already have a family, Miller. My friends, the team, your dad. And you. I just want you.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” I squeak out. “I knew I was leaving the entire time and I let you get attached. I let myself get attached, and now I’m just another person that’s going to leave you.”
Kai moves into the kitchen, hands braced on the counter in front of him. The kitchen where so much of my summer was spent. Where so many of my favorite memories were made.
“Miller, you’re not just another person.” He won’t look at me, his attention locked on the ground, and I catch the first tear fall from under his glasses, hitting the floor. “You put me first when I forgot how to. You reminded me what it felt like to be important, to be chosen first. I know you wanted this to be easy and detached, but you’re fucking in here.” His fingers meet his chest, tapping it a couple of times, blue eyes meeting mine, and full of pain. “You’re everywhere, and when you leave tomorrow, I’ll still see you everywhere. In this kitchen. In Max’s room. In my bed. There’s nothing about us that’s easy. This is fucking miserable, Miller, knowing there’s a clock counting down the seconds until I don’t have you anymore, but I’d do it all over again. I’d fall in love with you all over again. I’d break my heart all over again because loving you was one of the two greatest surprises of my life.”
His other being his son and being compared to the most important person in his life has my head falling back, trying to catch my breath.
Kai’s hands are fisted on the counter, shoulders low and defeated. He’s bent over in agony, a physical representation of how I feel.
“If I could . . .” he continues, shaking his head. “I’d chase you. I’d spend every free day on an airplane to get to you, even if that meant I only got to kiss you once before I had to fly back to Chicago. I’d spend my off-season living out of a hotel or out of your fucking van just to be close to you, but it’s not only me I’m making decisions for anymore. And because of that, I don’t want you to say anything. Don’t tell me if you love me, and fuck,” he exhales a painful laugh. “Please don’t tell me if you don’t. But especially don’t give me any hope because if you do, I have a feeling I’d chase you across the country until you were caught.”
Unable to keep my distance from him, I slip under his arm to meet him chest to chest. “Kai,” I whisper, short of breath and overwhelmed by his confession.
There’s so much I want to admit, but when I search his eyes, looking for the right words, he simply shakes his head, begging for me not to say any of it. So instead, I lean up on my toes, pulling him down to meet my lips, kissing him in a way that I hope conveys just how much I love him.
Leaning back, I run both my thumbs across his cheeks before slipping his glasses off. He’s so handsome, so mine. At least for tonight.
One last time.
“Please,” I whisper, eyes searching his.
He chuckles, but it’s stunted without humor. “We’re past playing hard to get, Mills. You never have to ask.”