A matter of heart, p.27
A Matter of Heart, page 27
Caleb leaves me alone, which is good because I pretty much told him to butt out. I can feel his disappointment thick and strong at times, though, and I get why he feels that way. And yet, a part of me is relieved that here, in Costa Rica, Kellan and I have given into our Connection. Like this isn’t reality, but a place where no one knows any differently about us. Fighting it has been so exhausting; I guess I hadn’t really realized just how much until this week.
“You should go surfing.”
Kellan rolls his heads towards me and opens his eyes. It’s Thursday, and we’re lying in Adirondack chairs on the porch, connected by our enjoined hands as he’s dozing on and off and I read a tour book. “I was just thinking about surfing.”
“When aren’t you?” I tease, and he smiles wide.
“When I’m thinking of you.”
The familiar fluttering that accompanies sweet words like these from him takes flight in my heart. “These waves.” Reluctant to let go of his hand, I motion with my book to the picturesque vista in front of us. “They’re some of your favorites, right?”
“Not these particular ones.” He yawns. “But some nearby, yeah.”
“Frankly, I’m shocked you’ve lasted this long without going out yet.”
“You did say you wanted to test out how long you could distract me from surfing.” I can’t help but giggle at the feigned look of innocence on his face.
An hour later, we’re on a beach surrounded by monstrous, loud waves. I ogle the white foam, agog that Kellan wants to enter such conditions, but he’s completely zen. I’m beginning to think that surfing is literally in his and his brother’s blood. They can’t go too long without being in the water or they wither within.
While he’s waxing his board, I take off my sundress and settle down on my blanket so I can work on my tan. He stops what he’s doing and stares at me so hard I blush like crazy. I shove on my sunglasses and lean back against the blanket, propping myself up on elbows. “Stop that!”
The sandy, circular wax disc is dropped onto my blanket. “Wow.” He whistles. “That’s . . . wow.”
“You mean this old thing?” I already know he’s referring to my bikini. Callie helped me pick it out last month during what’s becoming one of our weekly shopping sessions. It’s fire engine red and gorgeous, perfect to showcase the golden tan I’ve acquired this week.
His body leans over mine; it’s delicious how much of our bare skin touches with so little clothes on. So far, we haven’t gone any further than feeling each other up and kissing until we don’t see straight, but it’s been tough to put on the breaks. But I have—we have—and it’s been unsaid, but we both know why we haven’t gone any further.
And the reason is the guy who I originally bought this bathing suit to tempt.
“You’d be gorgeous in a paper sack.” He fingers one of the thin straps looping around my neck. “Or in nothing at all. But this thing is so fucking hot on you.” His lips brush mine. “It’s a good thing I’m going out into the Pacific right now.” The proof of his words nudges against my leg, which only serves to totally turn me on, too. Not that it’s hard when he’s around, but still.
I didn’t think it was possible, but my skin now matches my bikini. Kellan’s amused by my reaction. “Why is it you always act surprised when I tell you these things?” The strap he’s been fingering is shoved to the side so he can suck on my neck. He won’t leave a hickey like the one I gave him, now fading—and I know why—but part of me kind of wishes he would.
“You say them,” I gasp as much of me turns soft and warm, “because we’re Connected.”
His mouth leaves my neck and travels to the spot just below my ear, which is pretty much one of the most erogenous places on my body. “I’d say them even if we weren’t.” Teeth gently tug on my earlobe. “That first day I saw you. In history, our senior year. We hadn’t even touched yet and I thought you the most desirable girl I’d ever seen.”
A small moan escapes my lips. If he doesn’t stop soon, I might very well attack him in full view of everyone else on the beach.
“I like it when you’re like this,” he murmurs against my ear, breath hotter than the sun bearing down on it. “When you sound like this.”
It’s getting hard to focus. My hands grip his hips, my fingers skim the skin right under the waistband of his low riding trunks. “Sound like what?”
He’s quiet. “Like you’re mine. Only mine.”
An hour later, my cell phone rings. Jonah’s finally calling me. I force my breath to steady, will my voice to not crack when I answer.
His exhaustion is painfully evident even in his greeting. I ache for him, want to make it better, which is a joke since everything I’ve done this last week will only serve to wound, not heal. Since I can’t hug him, hold him, kiss him, I do what I can—I ask about his mission. How he’s dealing with it. Reassure him that things are okay, that he’s done the right thing in the long run. Act like nothing is wrong, that nothing’s changed, even though things aren’t even close to okay, at least for me. Any stress I’d felt in the past few months about my conflicting feelings toward the Whitecomb brothers has elevated into full-blown, Def-Con One crisis mode.
A sickening pain in my stomach tells me this is only the beginning.
“At least it’s almost over with,” Jonah is saying. “If all goes as planned, I’ll be on the beach with you tomorrow afternoon.”
I’m glad, fiercely so, which only serves to confuse me further. I want to see Jonah. The thought of being with him again has multitudes of butterflies in my stomach clamoring for release.
Caleb speaks for the first time this week. Tell him the truth. He deserves to hear it from you.
What if I lose him?
That’s a risk you chose the moment you and Kellan kissed back in Annar.
I stare out at Kellan. He’s in a barrel, moving so smoothly that he makes surfing look easy. Telling Jonah means purposely choosing to hurt both of them.
You’re being selfish, Caleb accuses.
But the thing is, as much as I am, I’m also not. I’m hurting, too. I’m brokenhearted in this moment. I love these two men more than I thought anybody could ever love another being. And if me agonizing over these things in silence can prevent either of them from getting hurt any more than they’ve already been, especially by me, I’m willing to suffer any and all consequences to do so.
“Chloe?”
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. I lie back down on the blanket and stare into the sunny blue sky. I can’t watch Kellan and talk to Jonah at the same time. “The connection is faulty.”
Which is truly ironic, considering.
“I’ve been worried about you. How are you dealing with everything?”
Lousy, is what I want to say. I’m self-destructing. “This week has been a good escape,” I tell him. Which isn’t a lie. It just has nothing to do with my parents like it ought to.
A pregnant pause ripe with static fills our ears. “You’ve . . . you guys are getting along? Having a good time? Was this the right call, having him take you somewhere as a distraction?”
He’s trying so hard to trust me, I realize. To prove he’s willing to sit back and suffer so I can have a relationship with Kellan. And yet, it’s eating him up worse than any blood-sucking bug in Africa. The guilt in me is acidic now. I have never hated myself more than in this moment.
No, I want to tell him. I wish I’d never gotten out of bed that morning, never stumbled across Kellan and Sophie. I could be blissfully depressed back in my apartment, waiting for you to come home.
That’s how it should be. But it isn’t. Because I’m a coward who can’t seem to learn from her mistakes.
“What time do you think you’ll be here tomorrow?” The sky above me is white, it’s so bright. I close my eyes and watch red with black dots bloom in the shapes of clouds.
He doesn’t answer this, though. “There’s something I’ve got to get off my chest before I come.” My heart pounds as he sighs. DOES HE KNOW? “I’ve hated knowing you’ve been on vacation with my brother all week. Without me. I know I promised I wasn’t going to accuse you of anything, and I’m not—I won’t—but . . .” Another sigh. “It’s hard, Chloe. I’m really, really trying here. I want you to know that.”
This is the point where I ought to be sobbing and pleading for forgiveness. And yet, I don’t. More now so than ever, I stand to risk losing too much if I do.
“I’m sorry I just dumped that on you. I’m an asshole for doing so. It’s just . . . sometimes it’s too hard to hold it all in, you know?”
Oh, do I ever. And yet, I’m becoming frighteningly adept at it.
I end our call by telling him how much I love him. How I always will. At least that isn’t a lie.
“Jonah will be here tomorrow afternoon.”
Kellan doesn’t miss a beat. “I know.”
I chew on my lip until the tang of blood coats my tongue. “Did you two talk today?”
He sits on his surfboard, arms wrapped loosely around his knees. “Yes.”
Was it before or after we almost had sex on the beach? “Are you blocking him?”
He slowly shakes his head. How often has he let Jonah into his mind this week? Is he trying to tell his brother the truth he deserves when I can’t?
Evil girl I am, I order, “Block him now.” Kellan’s eyebrows shoot up. Even though I have no way of knowing if he’s done it or not, I continue, “He hates that we’re here together.”
“No. Really?” When I glare, Kellan says, “No offense, C, but his suggesting we come had everything to do with making sure your needs were met while ignoring his.”
Pain radiates from the wound I’ve created on my inner lip, but I continue to chew on it with gusto. “You knew?”
“I guess I’m surprised you didn’t. What did you think? That he’d magically become okay with us being together? He’ll never be okay with it.” His fingers search for his cuff, but it’s back at the house. “For that matter, I’ll never be okay with you being with him, either.”
It’s the first real admission on his behalf in a long time.
“You never talk about this with me,” I whisper.
“Why would I?”
“Because . . . it’s how you feel.”
“So?” Our eyes meet, and I’m unnerved by the amount of pain he’s finally letting me see. “It’s been clear since the day you decided Jonah was the one for you that my feelings are irrelevant on the matter.”
I sit up on my knees. “That’s not true and you know it.”
“Do I? Because, frankly, you haven’t ever indicated otherwise.”
I’m furious. “I’m indicating it now.”
He matches my fury. “On the heels of my brother calling you, no less. How very convenient. So now you get to have your woe-is-me pity party while wringing your hands over what you’ve done while he’s been gone and get me to—what? Apologize for unfairly seducing you or something?”
Caleb practically basks in his gloating in the back of my mind over the train wreck unfolding in this moment. Me? I’m drowning. I don’t know if I can keep my head above the water line for much longer.
“You want my true feelings on all this, Chloe?” Kellan rises on his knees in front of me. “You want to know how I’m feeling about my brother coming tomorrow? Pissed off.”
I’m mute in desolation. My stomach spasms painfully.
“You want to know how I feel about your upcoming”—he flashes air quotes, to add well-deserved insult to injury—“wedding? Pissed off is far too nice of a phrase to even begin to define how I feel about it. Every time I allow myself to even remotely entertain the horror I’m going to face—” He yanks at his hair. “Did you know that when you break a bunch of bones, the pain is so intense it pretty much overrides everything else? Going into shock is even better. Is that good enough for you? Is that real enough?”
The spasms intensify until I nearly bowl over. I’m beyond horrified. Why did Fate do this to us? Why?
And yet, I’m doing this to him. He’s destroying himself because of me.
“There are times I hate my twin brother. There are times when no amounts of alcohol or sex or adrenaline or pain can mask the agony I get from this fucking Connection I don’t want. But guess what? My feelings pretty much are null and void on the matter. Because all you have to do is pull my strings and I’ll jump up and do whatever it is you want. I have no control over my feelings—me, an Emotional. Do you get what that’s like, Chloe? How fucking ironic it is?” He laughs bitterly. “Is that real enough for you?”
I can’t see clearly, the tears are so thick. “I’m sorry—”
“Jesus. Stop. I’m not . . .” He runs his hands through his wet hair; black chunks go wild around his face. “None of this was meant to elicit any kind of guilt trip on your behalf. I know this weird sense of guilt you carry around eats you up. It’s . . .” He shakes his head, calmer. “I know you didn’t ask for this, either. Stop apologizing so much. It’s pointless.”
My chest hurts from holding back sobs. My stomach is on fire.
“This week.” His fingers force my chin up so I have to meet his eyes. There’s too much there to process. “Yeah, I felt guilty at the beginning. But you know what? I don’t anymore. Because, wanted or not, guess what? You. And I. Are Connected. And there’s not a goddamn thing Jonah can do about that, no matter how much he tries.”
At this point, my breath is shallow. It’s the only way to keep going.
“I can feel your confusion, Chloe. I know how much it terrifies you, loving me as much as you do. But you do love me. And you can go around telling everyone how happy you are with Jonah, how perfect your Connection is, but you and I both know that it’s the biggest lie in Annar. Because things are not okay. If they were—if you were absolutely, one hundred percent on the Jonah train—things wouldn’t have happened between us this week and you know it.”
I search for my voice. “I’m trying . . .” He waits, but the words I want to say won’t form in my mouth. So I tell him the truth, too, even though the words hurt like hell. “I tried to let you go. I can’t.”
His anger softens. “You’ve been happy with me this week. I know you’ve been drowning in guilt, too—but you’ve been happy.”
There’s no denying it. And that’s what finally breaks me. Tears gush out, hot and heavy.
Any hope I’d ever harbored of things becoming okay for the three of us dies a cruel and final death.
Kellan leaves me alone for the next few hours. He dropped me off at the house and then left, saying he needed distance away from me to think. Caleb refuses to talk to me. It’s not hard to assume he’s disappointed. Probably disgusted, too. I’ve spent the better part of this time miserable.
My stomach aches and burns. I want to throw up, but I’m too afraid that once I open those floodgates, I won’t be able to stop for hours.
I’m on the porch on one of the Adirondack chairs, wrapped up in an old, oversized sweater I’d found in his closet when Kellan drives up. He climbs the porch slowly, hands stuffed in his pockets.
“This sucks,” is what he says first.
Agreed.
He’s determined, though, to keep going. “Chloe, it seems like I’m the one who pretty much laid myself bare today with what I want—”
“But you didn’t. You told me how you’re feeling about everything, but not once did you tell me what you want.” I realized that earlier, while I was wallowing in a vat of great self-pity, just like he predicted.
He sits on the second step from the top and faces the ocean. “I assumed that was clear, especially after this week together.”
I come to sit next to him. His smile is tight. “I want you, C. I want this.” He trails his fingers lightly across my knee. “I want us.” His hand moves away. “More importantly, I want you to want it, too.”
I lean my head down against my knees, against the spot still tingling from where he stroked me. Telling him the truth is like ripping my heart out, but I do it anyway. “I don’t know what I want anymore.”
His quiet laugh is swept away by the roar of the ocean. “That’s the thing, isn’t it? Jonah and I, we’re certain about what we want. You don’t have a clue—and haven’t for a long time now.”
I reach out to touch his knee. “I do know I love you.”
“You love him too. The love you have for my brother—it’s like a beacon. Sometimes, I can’t even stand to be in the same room as you two. The love you guys have blinds me.”
Breathe, I tell myself. Keep kicking. Keep yourself above the waterline.
“Do you ever wish you’d picked me?”
I struggle to answer his question, which was said with so much vulnerability that I can feel myself sinking under again. No is probably the best, truest answer, yet also a huge lie. I’ve never regretted Jonah and what we have once. And yet, I still have these feelings for Kellan, stronger than ever. “It’s . . . complicated.”
“But you want me to fight for you.”
I’m startled by this. “What?”
“I feel it in you. Yeah, you’re conflicted. But this week, you’ve also been very . . . possessive of me, I guess. And you’ve wanted me to be possessive of you, too.” His fingers brush the base of his neck, where the mark I’d placed there is now just a smudge. “I will, you know. Fight for you, I mean. I’ve wanted to this entire time. Every single day, I wake up and think, Today is the day I no longer give a shit about making my brother happy. Today I’m going to grab happiness for myself. But I don’t, because I fear it would tear you up. But now . . .” He places his hand against my cheek. “This could work, Chloe. We can work.”
