“But I’ve nothing to fear, cause you’re the angel on my own shoulder.”
I sing out the last line. And everything is perfectly silent.
Kale stands there, only twenty feet away, staring at me. His chest rises and falls fast and hard.
I take one shallow and shaky breath. And swing my guitar around onto my back. One small, scared and terrified step at a time, I walk over to the stairs. One by one, I go down them.
I keep waiting for Kale to run. To turn and walk away. To do anything but stand there. But he doesn’t move a muscle.
My heart can’t still be beating when I stop in front of him, our bodies only two feet away. Cause I am completely still inside.
I can smell him, that scent that used to make me crazy, and still does. His eyes bore into mine in that crazy intense way of his. His lips are parted just slightly, like he has something on the tip of his tongue, but it’s too scared to come out.
The cameras are pointed right at us, every eye is on us. But I don’t notice any of it.
It’s just me and him.
A smile starts to grow on my face.
The right side of his own lips starts to pull up.
And that’s all I can take.
I rush forward and take his lips like I own them.
Kale’s hands crush me into him.
And the crowd goes insane.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“Let’s move it,” Tony shouts at the two of us. The crowd is going nuts, and not in just the pumped up, crazy excited way. They’re trying to push through the security line. They’re jumping over people, trying to get to us. They’re screaming Kale’s name. Screaming my name. Screaming that weird mashup of our names, Whale.
Tony grabs my hand, I grab Kale’s, and we are dragged back up on stage, and then off stage. “Get us out of here,” I say to Tony. He simply nods and keeps on barreling his way for the back doors. Hadley and the rest of the crew give Kale and I startled looks as we rush past.
A driver is waiting outside, and we all plow into the car before the crazy crowds can mob us. Tony slams the door behind us all and the driver takes off.
“You’re here,” I say as we speed to the hotel.
“Yeah,” Kale breathes. His eyes are wide, shocked even. His lips are red from my lipstick.
“How many of them?” I ask.
“All of them.”
I swallow hard. And I don’t have any more words right now.
All of them. Kale has been at all of my shows. All eighteen weeks of them.
And this starts the war of Whitney’s emotions.
Elation. Fear. Anger. Longing. It’s all surging up inside of me, waiting to crash down in a tidal wave.
The car rolls up to the back entrance to the hotel, and Tony follows Kale and I inside and up the elevator. It lets us out, and I unlock the door.
“You want me in there?” Tony asks, holding my eyes with depth and seriousness. He’s protective, and I love him for it.
“Not tonight,” I say, shaking my head. I grab his hand for just a second, squeezing it tight. “But please don’t leave. Just in case.”
“I promise,” he says as he squeezes my hand in return. And I just know, he’s going to camp out right in front of my door, ready to save me at any minute, just like he always does.
I give him a nervous smile as I let the door close between us.
It takes me somewhere around fifty-three seconds to turn around and face Kale.
In the moment, back at the concert, everything seemed grand and perfect and exactly like a fairy tale. We have this beautiful reunion and everyone gets to witness our happily ever after.
But this is reality. Right here, right now. This is the real world.
And now we have to talk. And I have no idea how the hell I’m feeling.
I turn and meet Kale’s eyes.
He looks so scared. His eyes are still wide. Neither of us can really believe we’re here. Together. But it’s real and here we are, and there’s him, and here’s me.
My eyes search him over. I might have expected him to lose some weight, some muscle mass since he no longer had to stand in front of the camera. But he’s noticeably more built. His biceps strain against his jacket. His forearms, which are exposed, the sleeves pushed up, are defined and ripped. His facial features are sharper. His legs look all the stronger, even under jeans. He’s inching toward Lake territory.
And there’s that scar, stretching up from under the collar of his shirt, up his neck, and just onto his cheek.
He’s scarred. But he’s still beautiful.
And I’m angry at myself. I don’t want to think of him as beautiful. I want to see him for the person who dropped me and shattered my fragile heart into a billion, glittery pieces.
We just look at each other for a solid minute that seems like an eternity and the blink of an eye at the same time.
“I’m sorry,” he says. And his voice startles me back into the moment.
But I still don’t have anything to say. So I just stand there looking at him.
“I am so sorry, Whitney, and I can never make up my mistakes to you,” he starts, his eyes haunted. He takes one step toward me, a hand slightly extended. On instinct, a survival one, I take the same step back. And Kale sees that, and his expression shows what it does to him on the inside.
“I made the world’s biggest mistake in history,” he continues, his voice strained. “And I spend every second wishing I could take it back.”
The back of my eyes sting. But I won’t let myself cry. I won’t.
I won’t.
“I was screwed up when everything happened,” he says. He’s still wide-eyed. And I realize he’s waiting for me to yell at him. Or maybe cry. Or do something explosive. But I’m just frozen.
“I said some things that were complete lies and the most untrue things I could have ever said,” he continues. His eyes soften and there’s just sadness and regret in them. “I was lying to myself. I was feeling miserable, and I just wanted to sink myself to the very bottom of depression. So I threw away everything that ever kept me afloat. And that included you, Whit.”
Him saying my name. That finally snaps me and this frozen state I’ve been in.
Tears well in my eyes. But I hold them like they are too precious to share.
“What you did was cowardly,” I say. My voice quivers, filled with anger, and hurt, and a million other painful things. “We were all there for you. Your family. Calvin. But especially me. We all loved you, and you kicked us to the curb.”
“I know,” he says. His face is sheet white. His eyes look tired. His entire body is tight and wound like a spring.
“You…” I suck in a shaky breath, holding back the angry tears. “You broke me, Kale. I tried being myself after you let me go. I tried being who I was, to keep doing it all. But every time I was myself, it just made my heart hurt. Because…” I have to take another breath. The tears well hard in my eyes. I look up at the ceiling and sniff. I won’t cry. “Because everything about being myself made me think of you. And I just couldn’t move on.”
Finally, my eyes fall back to Kale. And he looks ready to die. “I made your dad a promise before he died. He told me that it was going to take some time for you to get over everything, but he said that you’d be back. He told me that you were going to need me to be there when you came back. And I tried doing that, Kale. I did. And I just…”
Everything seeps out of me. And I’m not angry anymore. I’m not sad or broken. I’m just empty. So I sink onto the bed.
The room is dead silent. Except for the whisper. “I’m sorry.”
I look up at him. Kale’s eyes are red and there is moisture clinging to his own eyelashes.
“I loved you before, Whitney,” he whispers. “I did. I really did. But I’ve learned some lessons the hardest freaking way ever the last eleven months and twelve days.”
He takes a step forward and sinks down onto his knees in front of me. I feel his breath
on my chest. Smell his shampoo. Feel the heat coming off of him.
“Love is letting someone in all the time,” he says, holding my eyes like it’s his lifeline to reality. “I never thought I had a problem letting people in. But that was just because my life was too damn perfect to be real. As soon as any of that was shaken, stripped away, I couldn’t keep that door open. I shut down.”
A tear leaks out onto his cheek and his face falls down toward the floor. He takes a strangled breath. He presses two fingers into his eyes, and shakes his head.
He sniffs, takes a deep breath, and finally looks back up at me.
“Love is letting someone see you. All of you. Even when you’re not perfect,” he says as he reaches forward and takes my hand in his.
His touch. It’s air. It’s water after being left out in the desert to die.
I thought I’d yank my hand away, to gain back that distance between us.
But Kale’s touch…?
I. Am. Alive.
“It’s taking the risk that they’ll still love you, still want you when you’re broken and human. It’s not having to be the perfect giant that is always up and above everything.”
I place my other hand on his cheek, feeling as if I’m taking another deep, gasping breath. Kale’s eyes slide closed, and he presses his face harder into my hand. He turns his face for a second, pressing a gentle, light kiss to my palm.
That brick exterior I’ve been holding myself together with for the last eleven months and twelve days starts to crack. Pieces crumble off.
Look out below.
“Love is putting yourself in someone else’s hands when you’re falling apart and hoping that they’re willing to carry you every once in a while,” he says as his eyes lock with mine again. “And I didn’t have a clue, Whitney. I loved you before. I swear I did, with everything in me. But I had no damn clue what love actually was.”
Another tear rolls onto his face and he rests his forehead on my legs. My hands shaking, I place one on the back of his head and gently stroke my fingers through his hair.
“It took me about four months to realize what an idiot I’d been,” Kale says into my lap. “I just realized that no one has a perfect relationship and that everyone goes through trial by fire. And I had just failed miserably. I wanted you back, Whitney, but I didn’t deserve you anymore.”
“That’s such bullshit, Kale,” I finally speak.
I think he might actually laugh once, but it’s hard to tell since his face is pressed into my legs.
“It’s not,” he says with a heavy sigh. And finally, he looks up at me. His face is weighed, his skin tired and gray. “I’ve been there for every show on this tour, angel. I haven’t missed a single one. But I couldn’t say anything, because I wasn’t in any form of the universe worthy of you anymore. I didn’t want to cause you any more pain.”
I place a hand on either side of his face, maybe so he won’t ever be able to get away. Maybe just so I can feel that he is real. And we’re here.
“Not having you with me, thinking that you were just finished with me, that was the real pain.” And the ache in my heart, it’s proof of the truth. “I could have forgiven you. You needed time. But I needed you with me. All you had to do was come back.”
Kale’s face breaks, and his head falls into my lap again as he cries.
“I’m so messed up, Whitney,” he sobs. “Being alone isn’t good for me, but I’ve barely talked to anyone since the shit hit the fan. I don’t know much. But I know I was a fool to think that I could ever figure out who I was again without you.”
Kale told me once how he was terrified of being alone. He hated it. He needed to be around people. And here is the effect of that, right here in front of me.
I push Kale back so that he has to look at me. I hold his chin in my hand so he can’t look away.
“Love is all those things,” I say, studying his eyes. Everything in me still hurts. Eleven months of being crushed isn’t just going to disappear in an instant. But it’s still there. All those emotions of before. All those memories and desires. Kale and Whitney were always magnetized. “All of it. We were and are young. And we have a charmed, unreal life. But I love you, Kale McCain. And that’s real. And never changed.”
“I love you, Whitney, and I swear, I’m going to spend the rest of my life making everything up to you.”
And it’s me who can’t hold back a second longer. My lips rush his, his hands crush me to him, our bodies molding together. And everything that has been dead in me for so long comes roaring back to life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I’ve decided kisses on the floor in a pile of blankets and pillows and a guitar are the best.
Kale runs his fingers down my back. My shirt is all scrunched up around my chest, so he has plenty of access. I lie on my stomach, a pillow all wadded up in my arms and under my chin. My eyes slide closed, and goosebumps flash across my skin.
He leans forward, gently tracing his lips across my shoulder.
And it’s like heaven. Here in New York in a hotel room on the thirty-something-th floor.
I roll over, and Kale poises over me, locking my eyes.
My fingers trace from the elastic of his underwear, up over the worst of his scar. The skin there is twisted and rough. My fingers slide up over his pectoral, an angry ridge that gets narrower as it rises. My fingers gently tickle up his neck, and my whole hand comes to rest on his jawline.
“I still can’t believe you’re here,” I whisper as I stare into those dark hazel eyes.
“I swear, I’m never leaving again.” He dips down, his body lying flush against mine, and presses his lips gently to my own.
I will never take advantage of this. I learned to live without breathing for eleven months and twelve days. I’m never, ever going to hold my breath again.
Kale’s left hand slides up my thigh and wraps around my waist, lifting me clean off the ground. I was right earlier: Kale was incredibly fit before, but now, he’s ripped. And my fingers are greatly appreciating the wonderland that is his body.
I sigh into Kale’s mouth, letting myself go to a place that is fuzzy and glittery.
Heaven.
Kale releases me and traces his fingers along my cheek. I open my eyes and am ever in awe.
“I love you,” he says in a low voice.
“I love you, too.” A smile pulls at my lips. We lie side by side, each propped up on an arm and a hand.
“Is it true, what the media said about you doing fire academy?” I ask.
“Surprisingly, it actually is,” he replies with a smile. “I’ve been doing online school, and I worked on all the in person stuff here in New York before I sold my apartment. I’ve submitted applications to the Seattle Fire Department and am waiting for their hiring window to open up in a week.”
“It’s really amazing, that you can face something like that,” I say. “You could have died. For some people, that would have made them too scared for life. But you’re embracing it.”
“Collin died,” Kale says, his gaze pulling inward. “I don’t know if you knew that. But he did, about a week after the fire happened. And that kind of wrecked me, too. I had all this guilt that I should have been able to get him out of there faster. So, maybe it’s penance, but I also just want to do something that has nothing to do with me. Modeling was always about me, and my face and what the world thought about it. I need to do something that has nothing to do with me and everything to do with paying back the world.”
“That’s beautiful,” I say, rocking forward and pressing a kiss to his lips just briefly. “And I think it’s incredible.”
“What about you?” he asks as he places a hand on my hip. “What does the future hold for Whitney Ford?”
It takes me a second to answer that, because I’m not really sure. “I told the studio I need some time off. I’m burned out. It’s been so intense for the last year plus. Two tours, two albums. I need some me time. And they were happy to give it t
o me. So the possibilities feel kind of endless.”
“Look at you,” Kale smiles. “A year ago, you were scared for anything to happen. And now you’ve seen the world and all the world knows your name. And you’re up for anything now. You’ve changed, Whitney. You were always amazing. But I don’t even have a word for you now.”
I blush at his compliments. I still don’t know what to do with them.
So I change the subject.
“So what are we doing for the next few days? The next few weeks?”
“I think it’s time to go home,” he answers after a moment of thought. “I’ve messed things up with my family, and I need to fix it.”
“Me too. I’ve been trying to fix things with my parents and Ming. But I need to see them. Let’s go home,” I say as he closes the distance between us, his chest against mine, my legs wrapping around his.
We talk of home, but really, I’m already there.
CHAPTER THIRTY
The plane lands in Seattle, and the day is drizzly and gray. There are so many people milling about Boeing Field. I pull on my sunglasses. I look across and see Kale do the same thing.
“Let’s go,” Tony says, adjusting his suit and going to the door.
He walks down first, followed by Kale, and then by me. The rain comes down in misty waves and my skin instantly feels hydrated.
Welcome home.
Eyes glance over at us as we descend, but they don’t linger. Here, we are not the most exciting people coming and going. The Seahawks plane is parked not too far away from my jet.
Tony and a whole crew of security people lead us to the car that is waiting, and the three of us climb in.
“I just realized, I have no idea where you live these days,” Kale says as the car starts out. “I’m guessing you’re not still in your grandma’s apartment.”
I smile and look back out the window. “I still own it, and I’ll always keep it,” I say. “But I bought a place in Madison Park while on tour. I wanted somewhere to go home to, but honestly I’ve never even seen it in person. I had Sage’s friend, Avia, decorate it and get it all ready for me while I’ve been gone.”