Be My Compass (Make It Marriage Book 9) by Nia Arthurs

Author:Nia Arthurs [Arthurs, Nia]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2020-08-21T16:00:00+00:00

Twenty

Kastle

Kaelyn hasn’t texted me all day.

It’s unsettling.

If this cold shoulder comes after touching her body, then I don’t want to—

Okay. Fine.

That’s a lie.

I wouldn’t give up kissing Kaelyn for anything.

She’s too sweet.

Too soft.

Too precious.

I want more of her, not less.

But I notice.

She’s my best friend and I observe everything about her. I know when she’s happy or sad just by looking at her face. I can tell if she’s annoyed with me by the break in her voice and the twitch of her eyebrow.

I know her better than I know myself.

And right now, I know that’s something’s wrong.

If there’s a problem that involves Kaelyn, it’s my job to fix it. Whatever the hell it is.

She’s my heart.

My best friend.

My responsibility.

I check my phone.

Watch all the messages I sent.

Unread.

There are explanations. She gave them to me this morning when she was sitting on my desk, her skirt hiked to her waist and her legs wrapped around me. Therapy and then a concert, she’d said, her brown eyes bright.

Her parents love music festivals. Those concerts can go on for hours. If she’s enjoying herself, she wouldn’t check her phone. If she’s swaying with the music, dancing with her dad, forgetting all about her worries and her past and her trauma, she wouldn’t check if I texted her.

I’m overthinking.

Kaelyn’s fine and I’m distracted when I should be focusing on the business meeting. Because of the time difference, I’m putting on a suit at three a.m. and discussing profit margins when I should be sleeping.

Despite all attempts at productivity, Kaelyn stubbornly remains at the forefront of my mind.

I should invite her over.

She can sleep in my bed while I have the meeting.

Just sleep.

No pressure.

There will never be pressure.

We’re still best friends. Underneath the colliding lips and the soft caresses and the creamy brown legs that open when I touch them, we’re still the two wounded kids who found a home in each other. Who ran away at night to sit on the slide and talk about nothing important. Who made life a little easier to bear.

We’re still them.

They’re still us.

We’re Kaelyn and Kastle.

I swing around to face my laptop and minimize the page on screen.

There’s Kaelyn.

She’s on my wallpaper.

Her smile. Her eyes. Her laughter.

This picture has been my background for years. Right after high school, Kaelyn and I went to separate colleges. She relocated all the way across the state while I stayed near my parents. Mom’s suggestion. She’d already made her plans for me and those plans weren’t Kaelyn’s plans.

But the distance didn’t hamper us. We flew back and forth every chance we could get. That spring, I took Kae to the Caribbean. Sandy beaches. Coconut trees. Food exploding with flavor. Belize. The melting pot of culture.

We visited Mayan ruins. Made our own tortillas. Rode horses in the jungle.

Then we took off to San Pedro for a few days of sun, sand and margaritas.

One of the locals snapped this shot.

It’s Kaelyn, her curls loose and crimping around her head. She’s sitting between my legs and leaning into me, her eyes on the cerulean Caribbean Sea.

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