Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 162567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
She frowns. “What is?”
I scan the theatre as a lanky drummer with a giddy, fanboy smile takes the stage. He’s clearly infatuated with Tom.
Back to Sulli, I try to express what I know, “You think I’m better at relationships than Banks, but I’m not. Not really. And I feel like a fudging fraud every time I recognize how badly I actually suck.” I shake the cereal box a little.
Sulli turns more towards me. “I mean, aren’t you better than Banks? You’ve been in more relationships than him and me.”
I shake my head a few times and try to keep my gaze on hers. “For every girlfriend I had, I don’t think I ever let myself be that vulnerable. I understand how to make women feel good in bed. I knew sex, but I don’t think I ever knew love.” I extend my arm over her seat as she leans closer to me. “Until you. And I loved you before we ever slept together.”
Sulli nods me on when I grow quiet.
“In past relationships, if something bugged me, I’d convince myself it’s not a big deal and I’d just move on. Never make anything too personal. Everything’s A-okay.” I keep my voice quiet, even as the drummer bangs harshly. “I thought that made me the ace at relationships. There were never any big issues. But there was never anything under the surface either.”
“That’s the past, right?” Sulli tries to whisper. “That’s not how you are with me, Akara.” It’s strange hearing her say Akara and not Kits.
Don’t panic.
She’s fine.
We’re fine.
I take a breath. “You were my friend before my girlfriend, Sul, and I’ve always had an easy time talking to you about my dad. My life. But the crappier the media, the more hellish your surroundings, I find myself defaulting to bubble-wrapping you and keeping you out of my crap. And I’m scared I’m turning us into one of those surface things that you don’t deserve.”
“And things…things aren’t okay between us?” Sulli questions.
Seeing her concern is what I hate, but I’m starting to realize these conversations are part of being in a relationship that runs deep.
That lasts.
“Things are okay,” I reassure quickly, “but I can be insecure.” I have to look away every few seconds when I wish I could just duct-tape myself to her green eyes.
Sulli chews her lip. “About my fucking love for you?”
“No,” I say even faster. “No, I know you love me, Sul. You do a great job showing me you love me, and Banks does an effing stellar job showing his love for you. He runs circles around me, and I’m over here throwing your hair in your face, chucking cereal at you, pushing you off paddleboards—”
“I love all that,” she interjects with certainty. “I’ve fucking loved that since I was sixteen.”
My chest concaves, and our hands find each other. “We’ve talked about this before,” I add quickly, almost nervously. Like I’m one of the panicked drummers lining up for the audition of a lifetime. Only, I’ve already auditioned for the role of Sulli’s Boyfriend, and I’m here—so why am I freaking out? “On the sleigh ride, my birthday—you told me I don’t need to be romantic any other way than I am.”
“That’s still true,” she says strongly. “That hasn’t fucking changed.” She frowns. “But…something has changed with you?”
I push my black hair back. “I guess I just need you to know that whenever I tease you mercilessly—it’s because I really effing love you. Not as a friend or like some Kindergarten crush—I love you like a man loves a woman, like something eternally deep. And it might not feel that way when I call you string bean or steal your gummy worms, so if you want me to stop—”
“Never fucking stop, Kits,” she interjects, eyes glassing. “I know your love is deep. It’s never been some shallow thing to me.” She brushes tears away. “Fuck, I don’t know why I’m crying.” She sniffs hard.
I breathe fuller breaths and find a napkin in my backpack for her to blow her nose into.
“Thanks,” she mumbles. Blowing hard.
We laugh softly.
And she says, “You don’t always need to be our rock, you know. You let Banks be there for you, and I want to be there for you too. And no matter how bad things get in the fucking world, I hope you feel like you can always talk to me.”
I relax into that and nod. “I’ll try to be better about it. I want to be.”
She squeezes my hand. “Cut the bubble-wrap, Kits. Set me free.”
I smile and lean in, cupping her cheek. “What if I just bubble-wrap the three of us together?”
“Sounds like love to me.”
I press my lips to hers, deepening the kiss for a second. Her body bends closer, and no one records us or snaps photos. Anyone auditioning had to sign an NDA.