Chemistry Lessons Page 14

  Ky tried to scramble back, but Regan held on with one hand against her back.

  “Careful. If you fall off, you’ll hit your head on the coffee table.”

  Finally, Ky managed to disentangle herself and sit up. “Sorry. I didn’t realize how tired I was.” She massaged the crick in her neck and touched her chin to check for drool. Thankfully, there was none.

  “It’s okay.”

  Was it? Were they okay? Ky peeked over at her.

  The look in Regan’s eyes was soft and so at peace that Ky wanted to sink back onto her lap.

  “Come on.” Regan slid off the couch. “Let’s go to bed.”

  Ky stared. Was she saying she wanted them to share the bed? They had done it more than once in the past because Regan’s fake leather couch had started to sag in a couple of places over the years, so it wasn’t the comfiest place to sleep the entire night. But that had been before Regan’s dating experiment had reawakened her damn crush.

  A part of her longed to crawl into bed with Regan, yet another, bigger part was scared of what would happen if she did. “That’s okay,” she croaked out. “I won’t be able to sleep anyway. I’m totally wired, so if you give me your car keys, I could—”

  “Ky, you were sound asleep a minute ago. Stop being stubborn and come to bed with me.” A flush rose up Regan’s neck, making her look even lovelier. “Um, I mean, you should stay over. Neither of us is driving all over town at this hour.”

  Ky glanced at her wristwatch. Oh my God. It was two in the morning! When had that happened? She must have been asleep on Regan’s lap for quite some time.

  Regan walked toward the bedroom as if it was already decided Ky would stay.

  Guess I’m sleeping over. The thought of sleeping so close made her pulse pound, but at the same time, the way Regan had taken charge—bringing Ky to her place and then deciding she was staying—was unexpectedly comforting. It proved that Regan was still there. She hadn’t lost her.

  Weariness tugged at Ky, and she wanted nothing more than to wrap herself around Regan, as she had earlier, and find some peace in the safest place she knew.

  Finally, she gave in to that pull and followed her to the bedroom.

  Regan had kicked off her sweatpants and unfastened her bra. She pulled it out through the sleeve of her T-shirt.

  Ky’s mouth went dry, and she looked away, even though there was nothing to see, other than Regan’s legs. Quickly, she escaped to the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

  Sleep, she firmly told her reflection in the mirror above the sink. You are going to sleep. Her toothbrush was in the cup holder next to Regan’s. The sight of it was soothing, reminding her of how often she had stayed over. Tonight would be no different.

  After the drama with her dad, she wasn’t up for anything other than sleeping anyway, even if Regan were.

  Which she isn’t. Stop thinking and go to bed.

  She brushed her teeth, splashed cold water onto her face, then left the bathroom.

  In the hall, Regan passed her with a smile that looked nervous.

  Was this as awkward for her as it was for Ky? For the first time ever, there was something Ky couldn’t ask her.

  She slid into bed on her side. Funny that she had one. Had any of Regan’s partners ever had a side?

  God, she really needed some sleep.

  The sheets smelled of Regan, and Ky snuggled into them with a sigh. She’d just started to relax when the door opened and Regan padded toward the bed.

  As Regan pulled back the covers, Ky slid to the edge of the bed to make room for her.

  Regan got in and turned off the light. They both lay on their backs, carefully not touching.

  Ky stared into the near darkness. The dim shapes of Regan’s furniture were as familiar as her own. She turned onto her side, her back to Regan, but the position felt all wrong, so she rolled onto her belly. No, that wasn’t comfy either. With a grunt, she turned back toward the window.

  “You’re making me seasick,” Regan mumbled.

  “Sorry. I’ll stay still.” Ky flopped onto her back and pressed her arms to her sides to keep herself motionless.

  Regan sighed. “This isn’t working. Neither of us will get a wink of sleep.”

  “If you want me to leave, I—”

  “Spoon me.”

  Ky sucked in a breath. Surely she hadn’t heard that right? “Um, what?”

  The bed shook beneath Regan’s laughter. “Jeez, you’re acting like I said, ‘Spank me and take me doggy-style.’”

  Her words sent a jolt through Ky. She stared at Regan, trying to make out her features. As far as she could tell, Regan was looking back defiantly.

  Then they both burst out laughing.

  “Come on,” Regan said once their laughter had trickled off. “Spoon me. That’s how we’ll end up anyway as soon as we fall asleep.” She turned away from Ky, offering her back.

  God, the curve of her neck was so lovely, even in the near dark. Ky shook her head to get rid of that thought, then slowly inched across the mattress until she felt the heat of Regan’s body. She had planned to settle down with the tiniest bit of space still between them, but magnetism or something took over, pulling her in, and she found herself cuddled up to Regan’s back. The fit of their bodies, as different as they were, was as perfect as that of their entwined fingers earlier.

  She wrapped one arm around her, then hesitated. What was she supposed to do with her hand? Where did she usually put it?

  As if to answer the unasked question, Regan took her hand and pressed it to her belly, with her own on top.

  Ky froze. Oh God! If she moved her fingers even a little, she would cup Regan’s breasts!

  “You comfy?” Regan asked, her voice husky.

  Comfy wasn’t the first word that came to mind. Or even the twenty-first. She was too intensely aware of Regan’s body tucked into the curve of her own and the press of her breasts against Regan’s back. “Um, yeah.” She hoped Regan couldn’t feel her heart racing. “This is…nice.”

  “Mm-hmm. It is.” Regan trailed her thumb over Ky’s wrist in a caress that was probably meant to be calming but instead sent a prickle of awareness up her arm.

  Ky pressed her overheated cheek to Regan’s shoulder. This was the sweetest torture she had ever endured.

  It took quite some time, but eventually, Regan’s familiar scent and the quiet sound of them breathing in the same pattern lulled her to sleep.

  Chapter 12

  For the first time since they had kissed more than a week ago, Ky woke up feeling well-rested. She couldn’t have slept more than a few hours, but her head was clear and her body relaxed.

  She knew she wasn’t at home before she even opened her eyes. But then again, maybe she was. She was with Regan.

  They had changed positions during the night so that they now lay facing each other, with Regan using Ky’s arm as a pillow. The faint light of dawn filtered through the closed blinds, painting stripes of gold and shade across Regan’s face.

  Ky drank in her features—the curve of her mouth, with her lips slightly parted, the slope of her nose, the sweep of her long lashes, and the untamed tousle of her hair. God, she was beautiful.

  Regan sighed in her sleep and nuzzled closer.

  Ky wrapped one arm around her and held her close, inhaling Regan’s sleepy scent. Her heart ached. Not with the sharp pain that came with the thought of messing it all up and losing her. This felt more as if her heart was too full, spilling over all the emotions she had stored there and suppressed over the years.

  It was as if that barely patched-up lid to Pandora’s box had been blown off while she’d slept, and now the contents were staring her in the face.

  She was not over her crush on her best friend.

  And it wasn’t merely a little crush either—and maybe it had never been.

  This was way scarier. This was love.

  Not the kind of love she’d shared with her girlfriends in the past. Those feelings felt
superficial in comparison. Regan hadn’t just touched her heart; she had engraved her name across Ky’s very soul.

  As if the shockwaves reverberating through Ky had woken her up, Regan’s eyes fluttered open.

  She didn’t flinch or seem surprised when she saw Ky there, in her bed, holding her, as if that was where she belonged.

  For the first time, Ky allowed herself to think that maybe she did. Maybe this was how she was supposed to wake up every day. Her panic receded as she looked into Regan’s sleepy eyes. Maybe she could have this and not mess it all up.

  Regan didn’t say anything—morning was the only time when she wasn’t talkative—but she gave Ky a groggy smile. “’kay?”

  “I’m fine.” I’m in love with you. For a second, she wasn’t sure which one she’d said out loud, but when Regan smiled again and settled back down on her shoulder, she assumed it was the former.

  “’s early,” Regan mumbled. “Go back to sleep.” Her words brushed warm air against Ky’s neck, causing a trail of goose bumps.

  Ky knew sleep was out of the question. Her mind was racing along with her heart. She stared past Regan’s tousled hair to the nightstand. A swath of light fell across the framed picture Regan kept there.

  It was a photo of them, cheek to cheek, their arms around each other. Their friends pressed close around them so they would all fit into the photo. Heather had one arm around Milena and was gazing at her instead of at the camera.

  Had they been just friends at the time the photo had been taken, or had it been during their short-lived relationship? Ky couldn’t remember, and neither could she ask, because Milena and Heather were no longer talking, and no one dared bring it up.

  A lump lodged in Ky’s throat and refused to budge, no matter how often she tried to swallow it down.

  What if that happened to her and Regan too? What if she allowed herself to want this…to have this…and then lost it, like Heather had lost Milena and Ky’s mother had lost her marriage, her home, and, eventually, her life?

  Cold sweat broke out along her spine. Could she really risk that, now that she knew how deeply ingrained in her Regan was?

  Regan cuddled closer. It turned that sweet ache in Ky’s heart into a stabbing pain.

  She needed to leave. Now.

  As fast as she dared, she slid out from beneath Regan, who mumbled a protest.

  Ky fought back the tears that burned in her eyes. She whispered something about needing the bathroom and fled, not knowing where she was running—or even if she could.

  * * *

  Regan drifted into wakefulness in a cocoon of warmth and happiness. The pillow her head rested on smelled like Ky, but she didn’t feel the familiar arms around her anymore.

  Hadn’t Ky mumbled something about needing the bathroom? She would probably be right back. A soft sigh escaped her as she imagined Ky slipping under the covers, cuddling up against her back, and brushing a kiss against her neck.

  Wait. No. Despite the intimate way they had slept, it wasn’t like that between them.

  But she wanted it to be.

  That realization squeezed all air from her lungs as it filled every last inch of her, leaving no space for doubts. She wanted to be the one to hold Ky when she was upset and feed her sandwiches after a long day. Granted, she could do that as a friend—heck, she had done that all their lives—but she also wanted to kiss her goodbye at the door without either of them panicking. Or even better: she didn’t want to say goodbye at the door. She wanted to follow Ky in and leave a trail of clothes to the bedroom.

  Her cheeks heated, followed by the rest of her body, as she imagined Ky exploring her bare skin with her hands and lips.

  Most importantly, she wanted to do that every night of their lives and kiss her awake every morning. It wasn’t only a one-time physical thing that would fade away once her curiosity was sated. No. She would never get enough.

  This could be it for her—a true chemical reaction that would change her forever. But what about Ky?

  Regan glanced at the closed door leading to the hall. Was Ky hiding in the bathroom, struggling with the fears Regan had seen in her eyes up at the reservoir? Did she feel the same? No doubt she felt something. This connection between them went too deep to be one-sided.

  They really needed to talk. But Regan had promised to let it go and not do anything that might risk their friendship.

  Shit. What now? Should she stick to it or, for the first time ever, break a promise she’d made Ky?

  Her phone rang on the nightstand next to her, sending her already racing heart into overdrive. She quickly reached for it.

  Mom. Of course. Her mother had a talent for calling in the middle of an emotional crisis.

  Regan glanced at the door again. Weird that the ringing phone hadn’t brought Ky running since she probably assumed Regan was still asleep.

  It rang again, and Regan finally accepted the call. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Hi, daughter of mine.” Her mom sounded awfully cheerful for the early hour. How late was it anyway? “How does parmigiana di melanzane sound?”

  Regan’s mouth watered reflexively. “Um, good, but—”

  “I thought you’d say that. Your dad and I decided to lure you home for some family time. With the opening of the Vancouver restaurant coming up, this might be our last chance for a while. Twelve o’clock. Be on time. And bring Kylie.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t tell me she’s got plans.”

  “I have no idea. Wait, let me ask.” Too late she realized she had given Ky’s presence in her home away. But her mother probably wouldn’t think anything of it since she was used to their sleepovers.

  Regan threw back the covers, climbed out of bed, and padded across the hall. “Ky,” she called through the closed bathroom door. “My mom’s on the phone. Do you want to go to Lake O for family dinner?”

  No answer.

  After a quick knock, she peeked into the bathroom.

  It was empty.

  With a growing feeling of dread, she checked the rest of her apartment.

  Ky wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen either. A note lay on the counter, with a banana on top—either to make sure the sheet wouldn’t fall to the floor and get lost or because Ky wanted her to eat the piece of fruit.

  But food was the last thing on Regan’s mind. She shoved the banana aside and picked up the note.

  Regan, it said in Ky’s scrawly handwriting. I woke up early and couldn’t go back to sleep. I’m walking home to get some air. Will call you later. Hugs, Ky.

  Regan stared at the note, then crumpled it up in her clenched fist. Ky had left, just when Regan needed to talk most? Goddammit.

  “Regan?” her mother’s voice drifted through the phone that hung forgotten in Regan’s grip.

  Quickly, she brought it back to her ear. “Sorry, Mom. Looks like it’ll be just me after all.”

  “What? But why? Kylie loves eggplant parmigiana!”

  “I know.” Regan had to swallow down the lump in her throat before she could continue. “But she left.”

  “Then call her and tell her you’ll pick her up on the way over.”

  One-handedly, Regan unfolded the crumpled paper and smoothed it out with her palm. Will call you later, Ky had written. That was a “don’t call us; we’ll call you” if she’d ever heard one. “I can’t.”

  “What do you mean? Why can’t you call her? What happened?”

  The urge to spill her guts to her mom gripped Regan. She needed someone to talk to, and her go-to person had snuck out on her. But she couldn’t do this on the phone. “I’ll tell you later, when I come over.”

  “All right. Do you want me to call Kylie and use my mom voice that will make her drag her ass over to our place?”

  “No!” Regan realized she was shouting and lowered her voice. “No, Mom. Please promise me you won’t call her.” The last thing she needed was for her overprotective parents to get involved in her love life—not that it could really
be called that.

  “Okay, okay, I won’t. I’ll tell your dad to make something chocolatey for dessert. You sound like you need it.”

  Regan sighed. If only this was the kind of problem that could be solved by chocolate. “Thanks, Mom. See you later.”

  She stabbed the end button and re-read Ky’s note. Against all hope, she even turned the piece of paper around to check the back for anything Ky might have added, but there was nothing.

  Ky had left, and Regan was alone with all those feelings.

  Cursing, she crumpled up the note again and hurled it across the kitchen.

  * * *

  Normally, it was a fifty-minute walk to get home from Regan’s apartment in Montavilla. Ky made it in thirty-five. She walked fast, trying to get rid of the anxious energy, only to realize that it didn’t help at all.

  When she unlocked her front door—which she still couldn’t look at without reliving the kiss—her T-shirt stuck to her chest and her hair was damp with sweat.

  “What happened to you?” Lilia called from the couch as Ky strode in.

  How was she supposed to explain? I jumped out of Regan’s bed and ran like a scared rabbit? Instead, she just mumbled, “Power walk,” and marched to the fridge.

  “In your jeans?”

  Ky guzzled down a bottle of water so she didn’t have to answer.

  Her phone rang in her back pocket.

  The bottle slid from Ky’s sweaty grasp, splashing water all over the kitchen, before she caught it. Oh, shit. Was that Regan? What was she supposed to say to her? She was making a mess of things, and she wasn’t talking about the puddles on the kitchen floor.

  But it wasn’t Regan’s name flashing over the screen. For a second, Ky was equal parts relieved and disappointed.

  The phone continued to ring.

  “Aren’t you going to answer?” Lilia asked.

  Ky didn’t normally answer calls from unknown numbers, but what the heck. Her day couldn’t get any worse, right? She reached for a dish towel and started to mop up the water while she accepted the call. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Kylie. It’s me—your dad. Please don’t hang up again. I’d really like to talk.”