Page 72 of Running Home to You
“I’m sorry about my sister,” Abby said as they walked to the blue house. “She just kind of figured it out.”
“That’s okay.” Kate smiled. “You know you’ve never said that before?”
“Said what?”
“Called Isla your sister.”
Abby’s throat bobbed with a swallow and Kate wanted nothingmore than to hold her just like when she noticed her hiding a wince at the news during dinner. “I know it’s dumb, but for some reason I just expected her to stay. Like I’d always get to come back because she’d be here. It’s not home, but it’s something.”
“You can still come back,” Kate said.
But she knew what she meant. As they walked through the neighborhoods of college houses with their overgrown lawns, surrounded by fragrant Douglas firs, the sky pastel pink before the moon arrived, it felt more like a picture than a place. Something they’d look back on but never fully return to. Perhaps that’s why instead of stopping at the blue house, Kate said, “Let’s go to your place.”
Abby’s cheeks twitched with a hesitant smile. “Okay.”
They’d spent time at Abby’s one-bedroom before, but never the night. Abby insisted on being the one to sneak in and out, and Kate secretly appreciated her roommates as an extra guard against temptation. Not that Abby ever pressured her to have sex, though it bubbled beneath the surface, the two of them often stopping just short with thundering heartbeats and moans caught in their throats.
The ceiling fan was working overtime in Abby’s apartment when they entered, and she scrambled to crack open a window. Kate found it transient, like most college housing, easily picking out the furniture and décor that came secondhand from Isla. But she admired the pieces that were clearly Abby—the surfboard she’d brought from California, the concert posters, the trophies hidden in a closet, and the photographs.
Kate lingered on the snapshots of Abby’s mother. Perhaps because they had the same smile and sparkle behind their eyes, and while Abby had come far, she looked happy in the photos in a way that Kate had never witnessed. There was another photo too, one she always considered asking about but never did. One of Audie on the Padres infield, Abby a toddler at his feet, wearing a matching uniform.
“You okay?” she asked when Abby flopped onto the couch next to her.
“Yeah.”
Abby wrapped an arm around her and rested her head on Kate’s shoulder. She knew it wasn’t just Isla’s news that unsettled her, but the rest. The future they kept avoiding.
They acted like Abby hadn’t failed to make plans, and like Kate wasn’t firmly set on her own separate path. Like they weren’t a secret, like they wouldn’t remain a secret, at least to her family so long as Kate stayed in the closet, which she didn’t dare leave. Like moving to a different city together didn’t seem recklessly fast and desperate, but like long distance didn’t leave them just as doomed.
“How about you?” Abby asked.
Kate rested her head atop Abby’s and laced their fingers together. “I’m not sure if talking to Luca made me feel better or worse about Berkeley. I thought getting in would be the hard part. It sounds like everyone’s so cutthroat and competitive.”
“So, you’ll fit right in.”
Kate’s mouth dropped open as she shifted to face her. “I will not.”
Abby grinned and Kate couldn’t help but mirror it. “Please—under that sweet, calm exterior, you are super competitive.” She tickled a few fingers up Kate’s side and she laughed while she swatted them away. “Need I remind you about our little clash over shortstop?”
“That wasn’t my fault! You weren’t supposed to show up.” Kate chuckled with Abby’s hands twisted into hers. She tilted her head, swooning for those big eyes and tempting lips. “Though now I’m glad you did.”
“Me too.” Abby drew her closer. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
They kissed slowly but deep, unfurling into each other across the couch. Kate always craved Abby’s weight on top of her and the pressure of her rough but careful hands, holding her down. It counteracted the lightheaded sensation that accompanied Abby’s lips skating along her neck.
Unlike the rest of their peers, Abby never treated her like a fragilevirgin, incapable of lust. She eased her closer to it, awakened more in her, bringing her to a place unfamiliar but safe. Even without fully stripping each other down, Kate grew to know the nature of Abby’s desire too. Her hitched breaths and tight limbs. The way her hips bucked when Kate’s thigh slid between them. She knew a kiss beneath her jaw conjured a long sigh. Most of all she knew Abby would stop herself before ever making Kate uncomfortable.
And that night, as they lost themselves in lips, their skin balmy in the warm apartment, a sensual pulse overtaking her lower stomach, Kate knew something else. She wanted all of Abby. She wanted to have her always.
“Come with me.” Kate pulled back as the idea struck her. It might’ve been a nonsensical byproduct of arousal but had also been budding for weeks. “Come to Berkeley.”
Abby’s gaze flickered. “What?”
“Play your last season at Cal.” Kate nodded, cupped her cheeks, growing more certain as the plan grew roots. “I can even tutor you through grad school.”
Abby gulped, her face falling with what Kate hoped was relief and not despair.
