by B. N. Hale
“On your studies?”
He smiled. “Maybe.”
“What was her name?”
“Cindy,” he said. “It lasted a few weeks. Then I ended it. Didn’t feel fair to continue when she wanted more than I was willing to give.”
Kate immediately disliked every Cindy she’d ever met. Then she recognized the surge of jealousy and suppressed it with difficulty. They were not together anymore, and he could date whoever she liked.
Just not Cindy.
“You know, you didn’t have to transfer,” she said. “You could have finished your bio program here.”
Their conversation was warm and full of memories, as intoxicating as the wine she’d refused to drink. She needed to get sober before she went back to his hotel. At the same time she wondered if that would be so bad.
“Columbia has a great program,” he said, avoiding the topic. “You know it was on my list.”
“But you transferred because of our breakup,” she said.
“Maybe,” he said. “But now I’m trying to figure out what med school to go to. I’ve been accepted to the University of Colorado Denver School of Medicine.”
She shook her head. “You’ve only been gone a year.”
“I took an accelerated course load,” he replied. “I finish at the end of the summer.”
She frowned, finally putting the pieces together. He’d finished two years in just eighteen months, and was thinking of returning to Denver for med school—just thirty minutes from Boulder.
“That’s what your conference is about,” she accused.
“Guilty,” he replied. “I was invited to Denver for a tour of their school.”
“Just how much do they want you?”
“A lot,” he said in a self-deprecating tone. “They seem to think my finishing early and my grades are indicative of a good doctor.” He lowered his voice. “Don’t tell them the real reason.”
She took a sip of her water, trying to grasp the magnitude of everything he was saying—and not saying. Jason had finished early because of her, because she’d broken his heart. Now he had the chance to return to Colorado. He’d come to look at the school, but its program was not why he would accept. He wanted to return.
For her.
Chapter 5
As they left the restaurant she considered how easily they’d slipped back together. Over a year had passed and they still fit together— hand and glove. She even glanced down to make sure they weren’t holding hands.
Despite the closeness she sensed a shift. It was difficult to discern at first, but the more time they spent together the more she realized they were not the same people they had been. He had always been the confident one, ever the captain even if he didn’t have a team. She’d fallen into the position of his companion, his shadow.
She’d been okay with that—or thought she was. But the time apart and time with Reed had changed her, and she wasn’t sure if she liked returning to Jason’s shadow. She cast him a surreptitious look, wondering if what she felt was just a legacy from the past, or a lead for their future.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“That you’re a great guy.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
He laughed and opened the passenger door. He shut it behind her and hurried to the driver’s side. When he sat down he reached for the ignition, but she caught his hand, drawing his eyes to her. She withdrew her hand and shifted in her seat to face him.
“Why are you really here?” she asked.
He leaned back and raised an eyebrow. “I would think that would be obvious,” he said. “I want you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know if we still fit.”
His voice softened. “I never stopped loving you, Kate.”
She flushed. She’d known the answer but he’d said it aloud, unequivocally proclaimed in a fashion that could not be denied. He reached out and put a hand on her cheek. She shivered at the contact, but he was already pulling her in. She swallowed, her mind attempting to resist. His lips touched hers, tentative and restrained. He withdrew a moment and when she did not resist, leaned in again, the contact growing more ardent.
He pulled her against him, the space between them becoming an irritation as he brought her into a crushing embrace. His lips pressed against her and his hands roved across her back and sides, his hands filled with desperation.
But her mind would not stop, and thoughts spun like threads of smoke, dissipating as quickly as they came. Every time she gained her feet, the wave of desire dragged her under and she struggled to breathe.
Reed was the first thought, but she had no way to define what she felt for him, and the thought burned away. Then she randomly worried about how Ember would react if she started dating Jason again. Last, she felt a hardening in her stomach that had no name. In that moment Jason’s hands moved upward, climbing up her body.
She gasped as the movement sent a thrill into her flesh. But this time it brought a screaming alarm with it, and she flinched. Her hand caught his, holding it fast before it could travel any higher.
He finally broke the kiss, but his lips remained close enough she could feel his breath. She struggled to find her center even as thoughts bombarded her. Both were breathing hard and when he spoke his voice was husky.
“My hotel is a few minutes away.”
She saw her life unfold, a life of being with a doctor, of going to parties at the hospital, of the looks of jealousy from other women. She saw her weekends and herself getting pregnant, of years of her being at home . . .
But that is where the image came to an end. She didn’t see if they would stay together or if she would become an engineer. She couldn’t see if they would grow old together, visit their grandchildren, or dance together as a couple. Misunderstanding her silence as consent, he reached for the keys.
“Jason,” she said.
She swallowed and leaned away from him, needing the space to gain clarity. Their eyes met, and he cringed at her expression. Then he shook his head and leaned against the door, his shoulders turning rigid.
“This used to be what you wanted.”
“Now I want something more.”
“I can be what you want,” he said.
“I can’t ask you to be what you aren’t,” she said. “You are wonderful the way you are, perfect in so many ways.”
“But not perfect enough for you,” he said, a trace of bitterness creeping into his voice.
“If we went back to your hotel it would be wonderful,” she said. “We would get together, get married, and have a life.”
“Is that so bad?”
“It would be beautiful,” she said. “But I don’t want to end up like my parents. Or like yours.”
“We wouldn’t get divorced,” he said.
“This whole night we’ve talked about what we were,” she said. “We didn’t talk about what we weren’t.”
“Why did you say no?” he asked.
During dinner they’d been skirting the real issue, bantering about the past and not talking about why they’d ended. Now he’d asked the question he’d clearly harbored since their breakup, and his expression revealed a desperate need for an answer.
“Couples don’t last,” she said. “But I want to. I don’t want to get divorced. I don’t want to rip my family apart and be alone.”
“I would never do that to you.”
“Not intentionally,” she said. “But you love me like I am now. What about when I’m a mom and pregnant and you are the handsome doctor all the nurses are in love with?”
“You think I’d cheat on you?”
“No,” she said hastily, attempting to stop the hurt in his eyes. “But I think we’d be unhappy.”
“You can’t possibly know what we’d be like as a family,” he protested. “For all you know, we’d grow old and die together.”
“We fit now,” she said. “But we’ve changed in a year. How can we know we’d still
love each other in ten?”
“How can you not?” he asked. “I love this new strength of yours. I will always—”
“I don’t think so,” she said.
“What do you want, then?” he demanded. “I wanted to marry you.”
“I don’t just want a marriage,” she said. “I want an eternity.”
He regarded her with hard eyes. “What you want only exists in movies,” he said.
“I hope not,” she said fervently.
He grimaced and wiped a hand through his hair. “I would give anything to make you happy.”
“Then find someone who makes you happy,” she said.
“Kate,” he said. “Can we just talk? Come back to my hotel and let’s just keep talking.”
“You know what we would do,” she said quietly. “And if I did that I would lose myself to you.”
“I love you,” he said.
“I know,” she said. “But in today’s world, love isn’t enough to keep two people together.”
“Is this because of Reed?”
That caught her off guard, but she shook her head. “I said no to you because a part of me realized we weren’t right for each other.”
He released an explosive breath, his expression turning hard. “A lot of girls would be happy to be with me.”
“Then choose one,” she said. “It just won’t be me.”
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” he said, glaring at her. “I came all this way and all you can say is that you want something that doesn’t exist? I thought I knew you better than that. I can’t believe I thought you were smart.”
Stung, she scowled, “I can’t believe you’re being stupid.”
He snorted. “You’re going to live your whole life wishing you’d stayed with me.”
She watched him sit and seethe, the love she’d had for him finally beginning to wither. The doubt that had plagued her drained away and the desire to be with Jason went with it. She didn’t know what lay in store between her and Reed, but it didn’t matter. She wanted a future that Jason couldn’t provide.
Ember had been right. Jason was a good guy, but was not the right guy. Kate didn’t know who Reed would become or if they had a future together, but she wanted to find out. She needed to find out.
“I’m sorry, Jason,” she said, and then reached for the door.
“You won’t even let me take you home?” Surprise broke through his anger.
She looked back and met his gaze. “Goodbye Jason.”
She exited the car and walked away. His door opened and he stood, and she expected him to call out to her, but his voice never came. She turned the corner of the building as his car sped out of the parking lot, and she released a long breath.
She sank onto a bench at the front of the Olive Garden and pulled out her phone. Flipping to her favorites, she went to push Ember’s number—but her thumb paused just above her name. On impulse she scrolled down to Reed and pressed. She swallowed as she put the phone to her ear.
“Kate?” he answered on the second ring. “Are you okay?”
She swallowed against the surge of tears. “Can you come pick me up, no questions asked?”
His answer was instant. “Always.”
Chapter 6
Reed arrived fifteen minutes later, his old car chugging into the lot. Before he could get out, she opened the passenger side and slid in. Not daring to look at him, she buckled the seat belt and stared out the windshield as he pulled back on the road.
The seconds ticked by but he didn’t speak, even though she could see the curiosity in his glances. Her courage failed her and she began to cry. She knew it was stupid, but all the emotion burgeoned to the surface and flooded onto her face.
Reed still didn’t speak, and she was grateful for his silence. She cried quietly, relieved that it was over, wishing Jason hadn’t been so hurt, wishing she hadn’t been the one to hurt him. She wiped at the tears on her cheeks but more welled up, preventing her from seeing Reed park outside a different restaurant.
“Back in a moment,” he said.
Startled, she looked to see him exiting the car, gone before she could speak. Not a minute later he returned and offered her a cup. She accepted it tentatively and looked to him, but he had a smile on his face.
“Hot chocolate,” he said. “It makes everything better.”
She couldn’t help it, she laughed. She sipped the steaming liquid and felt the heat sink into her soul. Closing her eyes, she savored the heat all the way back home, grateful for the warmth that burned the tears from her eyes.
When they got to her house he walked her to her door. “I’ll see you soon,” he said.
“You really aren’t going to ask any questions?” she asked.
“You asked me not to,” he said.
“I just cried for fifteen minutes,” she said.
“But you feel better now,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Then you can tell me when you’re ready,” he said. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“You can expect a new invite this week,” she said.
“I thought we decided it was my turn.”
She shook her head, marveling at the new foundation that had materialized beneath her. Jason may have caused a storm, but she’d also found her center. Wiping the lingering moisture from her face, she spoke with certainty.
“I’m sorry Jason took your turn,” she said. “But I want the next turn—if you’ll let me.”
He regarded her for several seconds, his easy smile on his face, the expression warming her as much as the hot chocolate. She heard confidence in her voice and relished the newfound strength. Then he acquiesced with a nod.
His smile widened. “I look forward to it.”
Kate watched him go and then entered her house where she was all but tackled by three furious women. She fended off their barrage of questions until Ember’s voice finally cut through the din.
“You left with Jason and returned with Reed? What happened?”
“I ended it with Jason and Reed brought me home.”
The girls hugged each other and Kate, pulling her into a burst of jubilation that almost spilled her hot chocolate. When she finally extricated herself Marta caught her hand, keeping her from escaping.
“How do you feel?”
Kate considered her answer and then smiled. “I feel free.”
Excerpt from Volume 8
Reed listened to his professor lecture about behaviors and drug effects. He enjoyed most aspects of his psychology degree, but the biology of the brain was less interesting. It didn’t help matters that his thoughts were dominated by Kate, and the direction of their relationship.
He scribbled notes and then returned to the stupor shared by the other students in the class. Dr. Caldin spoke in a near monotone, a voice soft and dry, an invitation to fall asleep in the amphitheater classroom. Some had already succumbed. With the lights off, the glow of the projector could not compete with the pull of slumber. One student had been so audacious as to bring a pillow.
“Reed,” a girl hissed from nearby.
He surreptitiously looked her way, but his caution was unnecessary. Dr. Caldin was staring rapturously at his slide, expounding the infinite complexities of the brain like they were the flavors of a savory meal.
“What do you need?” he asked, vaguely recalling the girl’s name was Hannah.
“Are you already taking someone out on Friday?”
He shook his head. “Why?” he whispered back.
“My roommate hasn’t been out in months,” she said. “I heard what you do and thought you’d like to take her out.”
It was a request he’d heard a hundred times, sometimes by a girl wanting the invite for themselves. His response was now habitual, to inform them that he liked to meet and ask the girl out for himself, and a reminder of his rules. But as he opened his mouth the words lodged in his throat.
Since starting the dating challenge with Kate, his desi
re to date other girls had waned. Even though he avoided physical contact and intimacy, it still felt like a betrayal. But how could it feel like that if he was not dating Kate exclusively?
Hannah was still waiting for the answer, but Dr. Caldin turned and surveyed the room, giving Reed a chance to further ponder his response. But all too soon the professor turned back to his slides and Hannah glanced his way.
“I wish I could,” he said, smiling in a self-deprecating manner, “but finals are next week and I’m grossly underprepared.”
The girl nodded in understanding, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of disappointment. Guilt welled within him and he almost reached out to her. But although he sent the order to his arm, the limb did not respond.
Yet again, he considered if he was even capable of ending things with Kate. After their canceled date a week ago, when Kate had gone out with Jason, he’d sensed a shift in the tone of their conversations. They now texted and called almost daily, and he looked forward to such opportunities like a starving man did a piece of bacon.
Did he want to date her exclusively? Was he ready to abandon his other dates and devote his time to Kate? His heart warmed at the prospect, thumping in his chest and bringing a smile to his face. Jason was out of the picture, taking with him the lingering anchor he’d left in Kate’s heart.
But even as Reed’s heart warmed, a pit formed in his stomach. He’d made a promise to Aura and it remained unfulfilled. To date Kate as he wanted would mean abandoning his promise. The questions once again returned him to the impasse.
“Mr. Hansen?” a voice called his name.
He blinked and his vision focused on Dr. Caldin, who was staring at him, waiting expectantly. Several of the students were staring at Reed with amused expressions, revealing the professor had called on him more than once.
“Sorry, Dr. Caldin,” he said, irritated that the kid on a pillow had not been called on. “My cerebral chemicals must have stopped.”
The old man cracked a rare smile. “It happens to all of us,” he said, and then called on another student.