“Has anyone been here to visit her besides Miles?” I ask because I’m worried about Coach Leary. I know the boys say they have it under control, and while Everly seems to trust them wholeheartedly whenever they say things like that, I’m aware of what kind of smarmy assholes the Learys are, and I don’t want any surprises.
“Who are you?” the nurse asks, and her irritation is palpable.
I cock my head to the side, trying to figure out who the hell she’s speaking to in such a condescending tone.
Before I can retort, Miles turns his body toward us, his hand still grasping Cassandra’s. “She’s my family. Treat her like it.” I’m not used to Miles using his status as an Elite, not the way the other boys do. He’s always been softer, nicer somehow, and I assumed he was only an Elite because of his skills on the ice, but now I see it.
The nurse bristles and I get the distinct feeling it’s not because of his authoritative tone—which, when coming from the Elite boys, seems to be a panty-dropper rather than a deterrent—but rather because he was defending me.
Clearly chastised, she makes her way to the door before quietly addressing me, “No one else has been here, not even her family.” And with that, she’s out of the room, and I’m grinning at Miles who returns the sentiment with a small smile of his own.
“Say you love me, Miles,” I say, and he rolls his eyes.
“You’re like the sister I never wanted,” he says, then shrugs, turning back to look at Cassandra. But I see the slight ghost of a smile from his profile, and I know he saw me stick my tongue out just like the sister he never wanted most likely would.
“Everly told me she’s been trying to call Beth, but she can’t get a hold of her. I mean, it’s understandable given the circumstances, but they wouldn’t have discharged her if she was in that bad of shape.”
“She probably just needs some alone time,” Miles says, but then he holds his finger up to me, signaling for me to stay quiet. “She’s squeezing my hand, and she hasn’t done that…” His voice is somehow panicked and softer at the same time.
“That’s good,” I say quickly, moving over to stand next to him by her bedside. “She’s getting better, I knew she would. She’ll come back to you.” I put my hand on his back and pat softly. It breaks my heart to see him so torn up. He wasn’t that far off when he said I was like the sister he never wanted. It’s moments like this that I wish Miles was my real brother, but in my heart, it doesn’t matter that he isn’t. I refuse to let anything happen to him even if I have to take the Learys down myself.
“Get out here right now, Kennedy.” Miles and I both turn to see Zach angrily standing in the doorway.
“Excuse me?” I quirk an eyebrow, stepping away from Miles and crossing my arms over my chest.
“Get out in the hall, we need to talk, and I don’t want to upset Cassandra,” Zach says, flexing his jaw, and I know him well enough to know he’s ready to snap, and I know exactly why.
“Don’t use that Patrick bullshit tone with me. Everly finds it endearing, I think you sound like an asshole. Ask me nicely, and I’ll consider if I want to go anywhere with you.”
He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. It's only then that I notice he doesn’t have his glasses on. He breathes in deep, summoning the patience he needs to deal with someone who doesn’t outwardly worship the ground he walks on. We used to have spats like this when we first met, but they lessened once he got it through his Elite skull that I wasn’t going to jump when he barked orders.
With a tone that can only be described as barely restrained, he says, “Kennedy, would you please speak with me in the hallway?”
“No. I don’t think I feel so inclined.” I smirk because it feels good to take the power back after he tried reeling me in, giving me a glimpse of what it feels like to have his expert hands and mouth paying reverence to my body, only to rip it all away with no real explanation.
He can suffer.
He crosses the room and my heart skitters in my chest, and it’s not because I’m afraid of him, it’s because a part of me responds to this intense, possessive side of him even though I know I shouldn’t. I like that he’s only this way with me.
He glares down at me, a strand of his silky black hair falling into his face. “I thought one of the Learys got you,” he grits out.
“I’m not your girlfriend, remember? I can go where I please, and I don’t have to inform you.” I shrug, not uncrossing my arms because I know if I do, I’ll be itching to rest my hands on his broad shoulders. He’s glowering when I clarify, “And even if I did lose my mind and agree to give you another chance to be my boyfriend, I’d still go where I please when I please.”
I see his fists clench at his sides, and I’m pleased that I’ve gotten a reaction out of him because he needs to know that just because I love him in a way that I’ll never love anyone else, doesn’t mean I’m going to follow him around like some love-starved groupie.
“Kennedy, I…” Zach’s being loud again, and Miles cuts him off.
“The two of you need to work shit out somewhere else.” His voice is gruff, and it occurs to me that all of the Elite boys have specific buttons that turn them into cranky assholes. Everly is Patrick’s, Cassandra is Miles’s, and I’m starting to realize that I’m Zach’s.
“Fine,” I agree, because I don’t want Miles’s time to be ruined just because Zach and I can’t figure out what we are or where any of this is going. I reach over and touch Cassandra’s leg, patting her and silently wishing her well. I reach in my pocket and hold my keys for a moment before tossing them to Miles. “For the record, I’m choosing to leave with him.”
Miles shakes his head, catching them easily. A short, half-hearted chuckle bubbles out of him, and I’m reminded of the Miles who threatened to plot my demise with Tommy for throwing away his junk food.
“All those brainless girls following you around campus, waiting outside the locker rooms after games, and you pick the pixie demon with an aversion to anything that tastes remotely good.” The humor in Miles’s voice heightens the scowl on Zach’s face, much to my delight.
As I head toward the door with Zach in tow, I turn back to flip Miles my middle finger. He mimes catching it and putting it in his pocket, then he smiles, adding, “Hey Masters?” He waits for Zach to turn back to him. “You picked good.”
We don’t say a word to each other all the way out to Zach’s car, and it’s only when we’re pulling out of the parking lot that I turn to him.
“I know you like me to some degree, or you wouldn’t want me around all the time,” I say because it’s time he faces the music. In theory, I get the whole sleeping around and then calling the girls stage five clingers when they freak out, wanting a relationship with a boy they don’t even know. But Zach put the time and effort into our friendship, doing everything in his power to make me fall for him, and he doesn’t get to be salty that it worked.
I expect him to avoid the question, change the subject, and act like I’m a delusional lunatic for bringing it up.
What I don’t expect is for him to pull over on the side of the main road into town, rip off his seatbelt, and cup my face in his hands so urgently that I think the feeling might be imprinted there forever.
“Like you? Are you serious?” His golden eyes are so intense as he stares into mine. “Staying away from you is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and you know some of the fucked up shit I’ve been through.” His voice waivers, and I know he must be thinking about his dad. I don’t know all the details, but I do know he’s severely emotionally damaged from whatever happened, and to think he ranks our relationship above all that is dumbfounding to me.
“Why do you have to stay away from me?” I ask, bringing my hand up to rest over his, pressing his palm closer to my cheek. I love his hands and the way they feel on my skin, no matter what part of my body he’s touching.
“Because I’m fucked up, Kennedy.” He sighs, pulling away and sitting back in his se
at. That quickly, I’ve lost him, and I’m so annoyed by how he can just turn off his feelings.
“No, you don’t get to say stuff like that and expect me to just take empty reasons for why you keep playing with my emotions,” I tell him.
He’s looking out his window at nothing in particular when he says, “I’ll hurt you in ways you can’t imagine.” He turns and looks at me with dark eyes.
“You’d never hurt me, Zach,” I whisper because the way he’s looking at me literally steals my breath. I want him to always look at me with such desire.
“I feel so possessive of you, dangerously possessive.” His voice deepens low enough to perfectly match the way he’s devouring me with his eyes, daring me to flinch away. “Part of me wants to own you, break you down until you’re mine. If I do that, you’ll never be the same.”
I breathe in, placing my hand on his knee and slowly slide my palm up his hard, muscular thigh. A smile graces my lips when I see the shock register on his face, and his hand shoots out to stop my fingers from moving higher. I already know he’s hard for me, his eyes can’t lie to me the way his words do.
“I think you’re afraid I’ll own you.” I only pull away when he lets out a shuddering breath and leans back in defeat.
It’s a few minutes before we’re back on the road, and neither of us has said a word. Something occurs to me, and before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “Don’t you want to know why I want to be with you?”
“What?” His dark brows knit in confusion as he switches lanes and fiddles with the shifter to turn on the windshield wipers. It’s starting to sleet, and I make a mental note to make Patrick take me in his truck to get some straw to fluff up the fox’s bedding before the big snowstorm hits.
“You’re so concerned about how I apparently used witchy voodoo to get your attention while simultaneously keeping my clothes on.” I lean my elbow on the center console, resting my chin in my palm and studying his profile when I ask, “Don’t you want to know why I chose you?”
His grip on the steering wheel tightens to the point that his knuckles flex as he pulls into our driveway. “No,” he clips out.
I swing open my door, and I’m out of the car, leaning back in before he has his wits about him enough to get his seatbelt off. “That’s good because I wasn’t going to tell you anyway.” I feel his eyes on me as I practically skip into the house to find Patrick and absolutely ruin his life for the next half hour because I know Everly will make him take me up to Tractor Supply. She and I usually do yoga together this time of day, or right after all of our classes are over, but I know she won’t mind if I skip today.
“Can you turn the heat down? I'm a touch warm,” I ask Patrick, literally a minute after I asked him to turn it up because my teeth were chattering. His head snaps to the side, and he glares at me so hard I think it touches my soul. I snort in laughter when his eyes are back on the snow-covered road as we head to the farm supply store.
“If you’re hot, open your door and tuck and roll into the snow. But I’m not adjusting the heat again or stopping the truck.”
“You’re so sour,” I chirp the words and start fidgeting, looking in the cup holder for gum or candy. I check the ashtray and finally, the center console.
“What the fuck is your deal? Can’t you sit still for ten minutes?” he grumbles.
“Henry keeps gum in his truck,” I say kind of petulantly, mostly just to annoy him further.
“Then let Henry drive your chaotic ass around. What are we getting, anyway? Fox food?” He squints like he thinks it sounds stupid even as it leaves his mouth.
“Straw so I can make sure he’s warm.” I eye the passenger glove box. I bet Everly has gum stashed in there.
“I could shoot it, put it out of its misery.” He grins at me, tapping the fingers of his tattooed hand on the steering wheel as we wait at the red light before the shopping center.
I roll my eyes because I know he wouldn’t do that to me. He might not hesitate to fuck someone up in Everly’s defense, but he’s not cruel. Instead, I lean forward as we start driving again and pop open the glove box. His massive arm shoots out to stop me, but he’s too late, I’ve already seen what’s inside.
“PATRICK CARTER!” I squeal, just like Everly does when she scolds him for being an ass.
He groans, pulling into a parking space, but doesn’t say a word while I try to pick my jaw up off the floorboards.
I’ve already popped open the little black box that holds a gorgeous diamond ring, and emotion overwhelms me. I feel tears prick my eyes, and when I glance up at him, he’s already knitted his brows together in annoyance. He reaches out and swipes the box from me, closing it quickly and tucking it into the pocket of his hoodie.
I smile brightly because I realize that he’s embarrassed that someone besides Everly knows his secret. He’s really a big fucking sappy idiot when it’s just the two of them.
“Quit crying, it’s not like I’m asking you to marry me,” he sneers, taking the key out of the ignition.
“Yeah, that would make me bawl my eyes out,” I say, laughing. I reach over and tuck my small hand under his arm, grabbing the box before he can stop me. I open it up and marvel at it. “Did you pick this out yourself? It’s beautiful. When are you going to ask her? Make sure you say it nicely.” I look up from the ring and quirk an eyebrow at him. “Maybe you should have Miles or Henry ask her, you’re going to end up cussing,” I tease, and he takes the ring back, putting it in the glove box and then roughly unhooks my seatbelt. I suspect he’d like to wrap it around my neck a few times, but instead he grimaces at me and gets out of the truck without answering any of my questions.
“Wait! Wait!” I yell because he’s already several strides ahead of me, and my short legs can’t keep up. When I reach him, I tug on his arm so he looks down at me. “I’m sorry for teasing you. I’m SO happy for you guys!” I throw my arms around him, and he stands there frozen for a moment before he awkwardly pats my back a little too hard. But it’s more than anyone who isn’t Everly would get from Patrick, so I’ll take it. “You and Everly are really perfect for each other, and she’s going to love however you decide to ask her, even if you cuss.”
“I’m not going to cuss at her during a goddamn proposal,” he barks, breaking away from our hug and pulling me toward the store. When I laugh at the curse he couldn’t keep from spilling out, he shoots me a dirty look before his slight smile wins over.
8
Zach
History is the only class I can tolerate, and that’s simply because it’s the only one I have with Kennedy. No matter how awkward things are between us because of how I pull her in and push her away, she’s still my best friend. That's why we can sit here and talk like I haven’t felt her up several times in the last couple of days. We still have twenty minutes left of class, but our ancient professor is off trying to make copies of some bullshit assignments that I won’t do, but Kennedy will. So we’ll wait till he gets back.
“How did you make it back from getting straw with Patrick alive?” I’d been too worked up yesterday to have a calm discussion with her, so I’d opted to avoid everyone last night. But I’m genuinely curious how they both made it back to the house in one piece. I stretch my legs out under the tiny desk and cross them at the ankles. Kennedy looks fucking cute today—her hair is pulled up in what Tommy has dubbed the ‘Tinkerbell Bun’, and she’s dressed casually in a fitted navy hoodie with our school’s logo across the chest.
She taps her pencil on her lips in thought. I groan silently, sitting up straight in my chair, and when I see her pink tongue dart out over her bottom lip and her big brown eyes find mine, I have to covertly adjust my sweats. “He threatened to put me out on the side of the road like six times, but we came to an agreement,” she says and wiggles her eyebrows playfully.
I let out a short laugh and barely managed to stop myself from reaching over and cupping her face in my palm so I can stroke my thumb across that dimple in her cheek.
“No shit, he’s going to propose?” I feel my chest tighten with anxiety. I love Patrick, he’s my brother. But I see a lot of myself in him and the way he is with Everly. He’s obsessed, all about her, and I’d be the same exact way with Kennedy if I didn’t try so hard to rein that shit in. Patrick doesn’t even try to hold back. I don’t understand how he can be unapologetically possessive, without taking it too far.
“Nope, he just collects rings,” she says with a smirk. I shoot her a broody look, and she gives me a bright smile. “It kind of makes sense. Patrick isn’t really the type to wait for anything. He takes what he wants, and he wants Everly to only be able to see him, and for everyone else to know that she’s his. I’m surprised he doesn’t tattoo ‘Property of #23’ on her forehead.” She glances down at her vibrating phone to check an incoming message. The curiosity mixed with jealousy that runs through me at her attention potentially being on someone else is both absurd and extremely real. I hate that I feel this way, but I do. I can’t claim her, and even if I did, she’s not the type to be claimed anyway. She’d go on a date with three dudes if I told her she couldn’t, and that feisty attitude of hers is only part of the reason I want her so fucking bad.
“Everything is canceled after this class,” she says, dropping her phone into her bag. “I hope it’s just snow we’re getting and not a bunch of freaking wind.” I see her shiver at the thought, and I’ve seen her freak out enough times when the wind picks up to know her fear is deep, even though she tries to play it off like she’s fine. I’ve felt her trembling in my arms and wished there was something I could do to make her feel safe from something I couldn’t control.
Damaged Elite (The Darlington Elite Book 2) Page 7
