The Next Move Read Online Free PDF Page A

you."
              "Thanks, Kat," he said.
              After they hung up, Kat let out a breath. Great. Now, in addition to all of her worries about her friendship with Chris, she could sweat about Dylan. She sipped her coffee. Every season, she told herself not to worry about him, that he would be fine, he knew what he was doing, and every season, right about the time she relaxed, he came home in a cast.
              She went into the kitchen to pour herself another cup of coffee. There wasn’t much she could do about Dylan except hope he didn’t hurt himself again. Chris, on the other hand, required some attention.
              Eyeing her cell phone, she wondered if she should call him. Or give it a few days. Or wait for him to call.
              Glancing at the clock, she chewed her lip. He’d only left an hour ago, so she didn’t want to call now. Maybe tonight. After dinner. Or maybe a bit later. Like tomorrow .
              "Fuck, what have I done?"
    ~ * ~
              "Christ, how could I be so stupid?" Chris glared at his cell phone, hoping it would ring, but it remained stubbornly silent on the coffee table beside his chess board.
              Hours had passed since he left Kat’s place, after they parted with an awkward hug and a goodbye with no eye contact. Hours had passed since he had the perfect opportunity to sort this out.
              Then again, maybe it needed to rest a while. Maybe they both needed some time to think before they talked about it. If they talked about it. No, no, they had to. They couldn’t just let something like this slide into the past and pretend it never happened.
              He sucked in a breath as another thought crossed his mind: What if she was angry? Upset? What if the longer the silence lingered, the angrier she got?
              Shit. What do I do? Shit !
              He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. His mind kept trying to wander back and figure out just what had happened the night before, but he forced himself to think only of what needed to happen now. Come what may, he needed to talk to her.
              Sooner than later.
              But not too soon.
              Definitely not too late.
              "Fuck."
              Before he could think twice, he picked up his phone and speed-dialed her.
              Leaning back on the couch, he closed his eyes, and waited. His heart pounded as the phone rang on the other end. Each ring made him wonder if she was ignoring him. If she was looking at her phone, trying to decide whether or not to answer. If she—
              "Hey."
              He sat up. "Hey."
              Silence.
              He cleared his throat. "Look, about last night…" Good one, Bailey. Way to think ahead and figure out something to say before calling .
              She took a breath. "I guess we should talk about it, shouldn’t we?" Was that nervousness in her voice? Anger? Fear?
              "Do you—" He paused. He wanted to discuss this face to face, but would that lack of distance make her uncomfortable? Swallowing hard, he said, "Would you rather talk about it in person, or over the phone?"
    She was quiet for a moment. "Do you want to come
    over?"
              Returning to the scene of the crime. This should be interesting . "Yeah, sure. When?"
              Another long pause. "The sooner the better."
              "I’ll be there as soon as I can."
     

 
     
     
     
     
    Five
     
              Kat watched her fingers play with the hem of her shirt, just giving herself something to look at besides Chris. He sat on the opposite end of the couch, the silence lingering between them.
              She chewed the inside of her cheek. All day long, she’d dreaded this encounter. She couldn’t