Page 114 of Spark

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KENDRICK

I’m practically skipping as I exit my car in my driveway and start walking the short distance to my front door. Maybe I’m reading into it, but when Ruby called me “baby” in those texts, I felt it in my soul. It felt like a sign—like confirmation she’s going to be open to keeping our relationship going, even after she moves back home.

I swing open my front door, and my stomach instantly growls as the delicious scents hitting me.Home cooking. That’s what it smells like in here. Did Ruby go the extra mile and order some amazing food in time for my arrival?

“What smells so damn good, Ruby Duby?” I bellow. And when I don’t see any sign of her, I call out, “Hey, where are you, baby? I’m hungry for a Ruby Deluxe!”

Ruby emerges slowly from my kitchen, looking shellshocked and pale.

“Hey,” I say, unsettled and confused by her body language. But when I see my journal in her hand, I get it, instantly.Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“It was never called ‘Spank,’” Ruby sputters. “It was always called ‘Spark,’ the whole time.”

Fuck.

“I didn’t go looking for it,” Ruby says, holding up the journal. She comes to a stop in front of me, her face still pale and her eyes wide. “I wanted to make you a special meal. A Martha Stewart recipe. And I needed the blender for the pesto sauce.”

I try to take a deep breath, but my lungs feel like they’ve shrunken down to half their capacity. It’s the moment of truth I’ve been avoiding for weeks now. No, for twelve years. Should I deny “Spark” is about her, or is this the moment to confess every feeling I’ve ever had for her?

“Is it about me?” she squeaks quietly. She’s visibly trembling.

Fragments and phrases flicker across my panicked brain.

Can’t have you.

Gem of a friendship

You want him, not me; before that, my big brother.

I’d torpedo the band for you.

Burn at the stake for you.

Burn the world down for you.

And worst of all,If only my gem of a best friend would love me, too.

I feel dizzy. Trapped. There’s no way out. My words on those pages aren’t hard to interpret. Especially for Ruby, who knows every inch of me. There’s no hiding from the truth now. No minimizing it. The time for total and complete honesty is now here, whether I was ready for it or not.

I exhale. “Yes.”

“You wrote it while Cooper was on tour with me?”

I nod slowly.

“Before you found out Kai was full of shit?”

“In New York. Right after you texted me to come down for birthday drinks.”

Her chest expands sharply. “You saw Cooper and mewriting songs together during the tour, and you wanted to murder him?”

I nod slowly, once again.

Ruby swallows hard. We’re both standing stock-still and staring at each other.

“What parts, if any, aren’t the truth?” she whispers. “What’s true and what isn’t, Kendrick?”

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