Page 34 of Slashes in the Snow
I believe he’s sorry. I believe he’s remorseful. And even on some deep level, I believe it when he says he’ll never hurt me again.
But where does that leave us? Who are we now? So much damage has been done.
Forgive and forget and just move on? Forgive, but don’t forget, and proceed with caution? Forgive, and distance myself completely? The thought of that last option stings too much.
“I’d really like to get to know the man Gerard talks about. The one who’s funny and strong and brave.”
Ky scoffs. “I don’t know where that man is anymore.”
“Maybe we can find him together?” I offer.
Ky stares at me. Long and hard.
Maybe it’s an unreasonable proposition?
“Maybe we can,” he surrenders.
I smile sweetly at him.
He touches my cheek tenderly.
This Ky I could grow to like.
“How ’bout we get some water ice and go watch the sunset on the pier?” he suggests.
“I think that sounds like first date material.”
“This is a first date,” he reminds me.
After grabbing some lemon water ice for me and some raspberry for him, we stroll down to the pier, and just as we take our first step onto the dock, Ky takes my hand.
We walk with our fingers entwined to the roundhouse at the end, tossing our empty cups into the trash once we’re done.
The pink hue the sunset is casting is making everything feel magical. More enchanting, more marvelous, more alive.
Ky props me up onto the railing so we are face to face. He gets comfortable between my legs and wraps his arms around my waist. We’re close and intimate and maybe a little spellbound because of our mystical surroundings.
“I really am sorry, Kira,” Ky apologizes once again.
“You said that.”
“I want you to believe me. I want you to be able to trust me.”
“Trust takes time, and I do believe you. You just can’t use me as a punching bag for your frustration. If it’s too hard being with me—”
“It's not too hard,” Ky cuts me off. “Being with you isn’t hard. Forgiving him is what’s hard. Being reminded is what’s hard. Being with you is easy. It’s what I want.”
“To be with me how?”
“Every way.” Ky slides his hands down to my hips. “I want you on the back of my bike, and in my bed, and on my lap for breakfast.”
“That sounds quite specific.”
“I’m a visionary.”
There’s no turning back when he leans in to kiss me. It’s a heart-pounding, showstopping connection that consumes me completely. It’s deep and passionate and sexual, and its intensity communicates so many things. Pent-up frustration, affliction, and physical urgency.
Luckily, we’re hidden behind the roundhouse so no one can see the mess of hands and lips and tongues we are becoming.
