Impossible Love: An Unforeseen Destiny Novel Book One (16 page)

But how do I explain his ex-lover showing up without making Kai seem like an ass? Because he really isn’t. Well, not completely. Kai can actually be sweet. I mean‌…‌what can I expect him to do? Put his life on hold for the remaining two weeks I’m here? That’s all we have left, a little less than two weeks. And I’m okay with all that, which is what I worked out during the drive home last night when Kai gave me space to think. He may have been ogling my thighs during that time, but his pervertedness didn’t faze me. I was more impressed that Kai sensed my need to analyze the situation.

Me:
“No, still a gentleman. Explain later.”

I toss my phone on the nightstand. That should settle her down for a while.

Buzz.

Or not. I glance at her message and laugh.

Staci:
Wtf! Give me more than that!!!!!

Me:
Later. I have to get ready. Merry Christmas!!

That will get her riled. I switch my phone off and stare out the jalousie windows. Mom’s probably wondering why I’m still in bed, considering it’s eleven o’clock.

I run my hand through my hair and cringe. I can hardly pull my fingers through the tangles.
Serves me right for going to bed with wet hair.
But considering I was still in a Kai-induced fantasy, I didn’t care at the time. I care now, though.

Reluctantly getting out of bed, I grab the faded black Purdue T-shirt that’s a tad too snug and jean shorts. No way would I be caught wearing this in public, but the thin, worn cotton is comfy. I bought this shirt my freshman year and wore it proudly many times before it got reduced to comfort clothing.

I bounce down the stairs and surprise Mom. She looks up from her book and smiles at me.

“Merry Christmas, sleepyhead. Did you have a good evening?”

“Merry Christmas. And yeah, it was interesting.”

Mom’s face grows solemn. “Why don’t you get something to eat? I need to discuss a couple of things with you.”

“Okay.”

Crap.
Has she figured out that I want to have sex with Kai? Turning back to the kitchen, I grab a bowl of cereal. It’s almost late enough to eat lunch, but I want something fast. Cereal’s fast. Lordy, I hope it’s not about Kai and me. I’d die.

I race through breakfast, barely tasting it. Mom stays seated on the couch, her face buried in her book. Must be good, she hasn’t moved. Quickly downing the orange juice, I rise and rinse my glass and bowl.

“I’ll be right back,” I say, heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

Walking over to Mom, I sit beside her. Mom places her book on the coffee table and sighs. She wrings her hands over and over, and I can’t take the suspense any longer.

“What has you so worked up?”

Mom lets out another sigh and stares into her lap. “I don’t know how to say this, and I really wanted to wait until tomorrow, but…” Her voice is strangled as she drops her head into her palms; her fingers weaved into her bangs.

I wrap my arms around my stomach, clutching my sides, as my stomach rolls. Whatever is bothering her has nothing to do with my dating situation. This runs much deeper than that. I can barely swallow when Mom sits up and turns toward me.

“I have late-stage lymphoma with metastasis to my lungs.”

There’s noise. A buzzing in my head. Mom’s speaking, but the buzzing isn’t allowing me to hear any words. I stare into Mom’s pale-stricken face, not seeing anything.

“Kayla.”

I don’t respond.

“Kayla,” Mom says a little louder.

Still nothing.

“Kayla!”

I blink a few times and see concern cross Mom’s eyes. Dazed, confused, and completely thrown off guard, a few moments pass before my training kicks in, overriding the numbness.

“What about chemo?” I blurt out.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” Tears well in her eyes, and I turn, not wanting to hear the answer. My own eyes close as I pinch the bridge of my nose. “There isn’t anything the doctors can do. We caught it too late.”

“I don’t believe that. There’s always something if we start the chemo now—”

“I’ve chosen not to do treatments.”

I turn my head sharply to her. “Mom—”

“Please understand, there’s no guarantee it will help. It’s too late.” Her eyes beg me for my understanding, but I’m not having it.

“
No!
You’re guaranteed to die without treatment.”

“Please, please, please understand. I’m not choosing to die. I’m choosing to live out the rest of my life without being sick. If there were any chance of the cancer going into remission, I would try. But the treatments will only prolong the inevitable. I don’t want to spend my last remaining months inside a sterile room, pumping my veins full of poison.”

Mom tries to reach for me, but I wave her off and stand abruptly. Without thinking, I turn and fly up the stairs. I have to get away from her. I’m too upset and need to calm down. Why would she choose to die? Why wouldn’t she fight? I need her to fight.

I grab my phone and toss it in my bag then rush down the stairs. I grab the keys from the table as I pass.

Mom’s red-rimmed eyes glance over at me. “Where are you going?” Her panicky voice throws me for a second, but I keep pressing forward to the door.

“Out. I need to think.”

“Kayla, I have more to tell you. And I don’t like you driving this upset.”

The rush of emotions flowing through me is too much to handle. I’m shocked and hurt, but most of all I’m angry. Angry at life, death‌…‌everything. Pausing, I glance at Mom. She presented this trip back in November.
November!
Every muscle tenses as my nails bite into my palms.

“Did you know you were dying at Thanksgiving?” I choke out.

A pained stare crosses Mom’s eyes. “Yes.”

I feel like I’ve been slapped. She’s lied to me for four weeks. “So this trip was what? A cover up? To help cushion the news?”

“I’m sorry, but there’s more. I—”

“No, Mom, we’ll discuss everything later. I-I have to get out of here. I need time to think.”

I slip my flat sandals on and slam the door behind me. I want to scream as soon as the warmth hits my face. The threatening tears fall mercilessly down my cheeks. The bubble sitting in my chest bursts wide open as the searing pain slices through me. Why is she choosing to leave me? A chicken races in front of me, and it’s all I can do not to kick the damn thing.

Tears continue to flow down my face as I speed along the curvy highway. Lymphoma? How did she come down with that? It can’t be real. She’s all I have left.

“She’s all I have,” I yell into the air. My chest heaves up and down, and I barely see anything driving along. I should pull over somewhere. But I don’t. The tears continue to fall, and I continue to drive.

My mom is dying. My beautiful mother. Dying. It’s not right. But giving up? I think about the effects of chemo. We had an entire semester dedicated to cancer treatments. We even had an ethics debate on the good versus evil effects of chemotherapy. If she’s too far gone, can I blame her for not wanting to subject herself to all that?

I blow out a breath and continue down the road in a dysphoric haze. My tears have slowed, but my cheeks are taut from the leftover tear residue. Is that even a thing? Tear residue? I’m not sure, but the salt-streaked tracks are present.

Kealia Beach comes to sight, and my eyes narrow at the glimpse of the waves rolling in. How’d I get here so fast? I glance at the dashboard clock.
Maybe Kai’s home.
Chills shudder through my body as another wave of tears threatens to wreak havoc. I don’t want to hurt anymore. I make a rash decision, and in less than fifteen minutes, I pull into a less-than-familiar driveway. All rational thought tossed aside, I exit the car and walk along the sidewalk leading to a wooden door. I suck in a breath and muster all the encouragement I can to knock.

Chapter
Twenty-Five

Kayla~

Thoughts of fleeing enter my brain, and I step back.
What was I thinking coming here? He’s probably not home
. I cross my arms and pivot to leave, but the whooshing sound of the door halts my progress.

“Kayla?” Kai asks, surprise and wonderment lacing his tone. “What are you…”

I drop my head and turn toward him. Tanned bare feet come into view and step closer in front of me.

“Kayla, what’s wrong?”

Kai places a hand on my chin and gently lifts. His brown eyes widen, concern etching his handsome features as his gaze scans my body. My mouth opens to speak, but words fail to come.

“Kayla,” he says assertively. “I need to know if you’re physically hurt.”

I shake my head back and forth, but the tears welling in my eyes bear my emotional pain. Kai murmurs what sounds like an okay and draws me in close. Warmth drapes around the pain inside my chest. However temporary the security may be, I seek comfort in his arms. His quiet reassurance is all I need for the tears to spill forth as I cry on his shoulder.

His hands caress the back of my head before lowering to both shoulder blades. He leans his head against mine and grasps tighter. “Let’s go inside,” he whispers in my ear.

I nod, even though I don’t want to leave the comfort of his embrace. His left hand traces along my arm until our fingers intertwine. With a gentle tug, he leads me into a living room and guides me to his couch.

Kai sits and pulls me beside him and then drapes his arm around my shoulders. I lean into him and squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t want to cry anymore, but the tears continue to fall. This pain is unbearable.

Kai remains quiet, and like last night, he doesn’t push for information. His only interruption was a brief text he sent out. But right after he finishes, he tosses the phone to the side and holds me against him.

A few minutes later, Kai’s feather-light strokes along my arm reignite the warmth I felt earlier. My tears dry as my breathing evens. Tingles shoot across every nerve endings, and the sudden awareness that I’m alone at Kai’s house sinks in.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

I nod, inhale deeply, and let out a shaky breath. Once I find the strength to talk, Mom’s unfair fate spills from my mouth.

Kai squeezes me tighter when I finish. “I’m so sorry, Kayla.” He leans over and kisses the top of my head. “That really sucks.”

“Yeah, it does,” I reply with a humorless laugh.

I pull away just enough to take in Kai’s appearance. He’s dressed in a white button-down shirt with dark gray, cargo-style shorts. His hair is damp as if he finished showering before I arrived.

“Did I interrupt? Were you getting ready to go out?” I chastise myself. Of course, he was getting ready to leave. It’s Christmas. He’s probably going to his mom’s house. I look at the wet spot on his shoulder marred by my leftover mascara and cringe. If he’s leaving, he’ll have to change first.

“I’m right where I want to be.”

My gaze sweeps to his. We hold our stare while I ponder his words. He said where he
wants
to be, not where he
needs
to be. I really like that he said that.

Kai shrugs, breaking our connection. “I texted Mom and told her a friend needed me. She’ll understand.” He raises his hand and tucks an errant strand of hair behind my ear.

“I-I’m better now,” I stammer. “It’s Christmas. You should be with family.”

“No, I want to be with you.” Kai leans in closer. His musky, woodsy scent wafts over me. The mix is intoxicating. “You’re more important right now.”

I’m not sure whether it’s his words, his scent, or the fierceness of his stare that awakens my insides, but I close the gap between us and kiss him. He stills momentarily, and for a brief moment, the thought crosses my mind that he doesn’t want this, that I was reading into things, that he’s rejecting me. But then he starts kissing me in return and pulling me closer. His hands run along my back, igniting a want deep inside that needs filled, now. No more waiting. I need him to make me forget the sadness, to make me feel better.

Keeping up my daring streak, I shift my body to straddle Kai’s lap while he continues to kiss me. I’m inexperienced. I don’t have the first clue how to seduce a man and will probably end up making a fool of myself, but I don’t care. I want him.

I place my hands on his chest and relish in his firm muscles beneath my fingers. His tongue works with mine while his hands massage their way to the nape of my neck. I shift slightly and hold in my gasp as his arousal hardens against my inner thigh. My insides clench as moisture develops below. I’ve never been so turned on in my life. A slight whimper slips out, and I seek relief by grinding against his hardness.

Kai quickly breaks away. “Whoa, Kayla, we need to slow down.” He’s panting and trying to regain composure.

“Why?” I ask, leaning in to kiss him again.

His hands come forward and block me. “Because, sweetheart, if we keep going I’m not going to stop.”

“I don’t want to stop.”

He stills for a moment which releases the tension his hand has on my shoulders. I lean toward him again, taking advantage.

“No, Kayla. Stop,” he says.

I pause and stare into his eyes. “You don’t want me?”

The sting of his rejection sparks my insecurities. Of course, he doesn’t want me. I have no experience. Of all the girls he could have why would he want me? I drop my arms and wrap them around my stomach. God, I wish I could disappear.

“No, sweetheart, I want nothing more than to have you, believe me. But not like this. You’re too vulnerable. I don’t want you waking up tomorrow with regrets. Besides, I don’t want the memory of your first time to be associated with‌…‌sadness.”

My stomach dips. His sentiment makes me fall for him a little more and sparks something deep inside. I need him, now. There isn’t anyone I want more than Kai, especially at this moment. My hands embrace the sides of his face, and with the slightest pressure, I touch my lips to his again. Then I focus on pouring as much emotion into my kiss as I can, letting him know exactly how I feel. When I stop, I stare into his eyes.