Page 8 of More Than We Know

Because while I’d normally be thinking about whether or not we’ll have a second round, or maybe how we’ll relax once we go home, instead I’m thinking about something—someone—else.

I can’t get Kat out of my mind, and a part of me hopes she’s been watching from the other side of that window.

Even worse, I want her to miss me in the same way I miss her, even if our past is long-gone.

CHAPTER 5

QUENTIN

“Ethan says he’s settling in well,” Sarah tells me before tossing her phone on the bed beside the massive pile of laundry.

“Are you texting him for updates already?” I tease. “He’s only been gone a week.”

She smirks at me from the other side of the bed. “Actually,hetextedmefirst.”

“Well, I’m glad he’s checking in. He knows his mother too well. Always worrying about everyone.”

She rolls her eyes and throws a sock at me, and I laugh as I catch it. We both know how true my statement is, but that’s just the kind of person she is. She worries so much about everyone else, not out of fear, but out of hoping everyone is as happy and taken care of as possible.

We fall back into silence as we fold and hang up our clean laundry. It’s a comfortable silence, but since we went to the club last night, I can tell Sarah’s mind has been elsewhere. She’s been getting lost in her thoughts all day today, though it’s not hard to determine what—or who—caused that.

Reuniting with Kat last night shook her, though I can’t quite figure out why. It’s clear they used to be incredibly close, but I couldn’t ignore the undercurrent of attraction between them. Sarah had tried to hide it, but by now I know all of the subtle behaviors that give her true feelings away.

What I can’t figure out is what sort of past they have. Kat had said they were “good friends” back in the day, but between their obvious mutual attraction and the way Sarah had tensed up when Kat mentioned having stories about her, I have a suspicion that there was more to it than simple friendship.

Sarah has mentioned to me that she has gotten intimate with women in the past, but we never really talked about it in-depth. It could have been anything from a random make-out with a woman to regular sex, and I never really pushed for details. I’m honestly not even sure if she identifies as bisexual or not.

I’ve been debating all morning whether to talk to her about it or let her work through whatever’s on her mind, but my curiosity nags at me more and more as the minutes pass.

“So, what’s the deal with you and Kat?” I ask casually.

Sarah stops folding the shirt in front of her for a second. “What do you mean?”

“It seemed like seeing her affected you pretty strongly. I was just curious how… close you were in the past.”

She sighs, as if she’s preparing for an admission, and starts to pick out matching socks from the laundry pile. I continue to put shirts on hangers, giving her time to gather her thoughts and not wanting her to feel pressured or on the spot.

“We were a little more than friends,” she admits. She glances up at me, as if looking for some kind of reaction, but I simply nod and stay casual. I’m not sure what sort of reaction she’s expecting from me, but she’s obviously nervous, and I want to give her the space to feel comfortable talking to me about this.

“Want to tell me about it?”

“Well, like you heard last night, Kat and I met in our last year of college. It was just an instant connection, and right away, we were best friends. We’d hang out constantly, do our school work together, go to parties. Then, things went a little further. I knew she was bi, and I was curious, so things slowly got… physical. Everything just kept escalating, and emotions complicated everything.”

“So, what happened?”

“She wanted more, and I couldn’t commit. We never really defined the relationship, but once the semester was close to ending, she asked me to make it official and move to Washington with her after graduation. I was too scared, and I wanted to stay here in Chicago. We had a big fight about it, and once we graduated, we went our separate ways.”

Sarah’s heartbreak is evident in her briefly unguarded expression. They genuinely cared about each other, much more than I had anticipated.

“I’m sorry,” I say, because I’m not sure what else I can say. Losing someone you care about is never easy, and time never fully heals that sort of heartbreak. There’s always a “What if?” that lingers after breakups like those.

Sarah shrugs. “It’s fine. It was a long time ago, and I met you a year later. I can’t bring myself to regret any of it because it led me here.” Her eyes meet mine and she gives me a soft smile, but I can still see the hurt hiding beneath, though I don’t doubt her sincerity.

I smile back at her. “And I’m so glad to call you mine.”

There’s a moment of silence while we finish putting away the last of the laundry, but when we both sit on the bed, I speak again.

“Can I ask you something?”