“Hey,” I say softly, reaching over and placing my hand on hers. “It’ll be fine, no matter what we get. Got me?”
“I got you.” She smiles, holding her hand out for me to do that stupid ‘super-secret’ handshake she made me learn a month into our friendship. I pretended to hate every second of it, acted like it was embarrassing and she was really putting me out. But honestly, I thought it was endearing, and I loved every second of it.
Where the fuck is that old ass professor? Now that I don’t have a game tonight, all I want to do is go home and figure out a way I can justify cuddling up by the fire with Kennedy. Just one more time, it’s not like we haven’t blurred the lines of our friendship a million times. One more won’t hurt.
“Kennedy,” some asshat in a sweater vest whispers from the row in front of us.
“The professor isn’t here, you don’t need to whisper like we’re in pre-K,” I bark the words, reminding myself this is exactly why blurring anything between Kennedy and me is a bad idea. He’s only said her name, and I already want to drag him outside by his neck and kick him in the teeth.
Kennedy swats my chest, and I grab her hand, keeping her palm pressed against my heartbeat.
“What’s up, Tim?” she asks him sweetly. His eyes travel to her hand I have trapped against my chest, and I feel like yelling at him.
That’s right, motherfucker. She’s MINE.
He looks away from me nervously before asking her, “What are you doing after class? You know, since everything is canceled, I thought maybe you might what to, I don’t know…” He’s blabbering on, and I’ve already killed him sixteen different ways in my head. I’ve gotta give it to him though, he’s got balls of steel for approaching Kennedy with me sitting right here. I could wreck his shit before he even saw it coming, and he knows it.
I’m about to tell him to fuck off when some brunette in the row in front of him turns around to snidely remark, “Tim. Sweetie. She’s not free, and never will be again. She’s one of the Elite now, and once they claim a girl as one of their own, they’re no longer free to make their own decisions.” She bats her eyelashes condescendingly, and I could swear I know her from somewhere. Judging by her attitude, it’s nowhere good.
“Listen, Britney,” Kennedy starts, and the girl smirks at me. She must see the realization on my face. She’s the reason I met Kennedy in the first place, the girl I was trying to ditch when I stumbled into Kennedy’s chaos. “We don’t have to be friends, but you don’t have to be a bitch either.”
A rash of hushed ‘oooh's’ erupts around us, and I’m left feeling really off balance when Kennedy yanks her hand away from me.
“Shut up and leave her alone, Britney,” says a voice from behind us. I crane my neck around and realize that it’s Jackie Bower. Seeing her instantly reminds me of the secret baby drama—I’ve only seen Tommy once since we told him about his son, and he still seemed pissed off enough that trying to have a productive conversation with him would have been futile.
“You know what?” Kennedy says, standing up and grabbing her bag. I follow suit because I want nothing more than to get the fuck out of this hellhole. “I am one of them now, and I’m proud of that. None of you can even begin to understand what we have.” And with that, she’s stomping out of the classroom as I follow behind her with the biggest fucking grin on my face.
I pretend like I don’t know what we’re about to walk into because I can’t wait to see her reaction. I don’t take my eyes off Kennedy as we make our way through the snow-covered backyard, heading toward the rickety old shed her rescue project decided to hide under while it heals. This is how I know I’ve already sunk too deep with Kennedy, and I’m not even putting up much of a fight to get out of the quicksand anymore. I think about things that I’d never considered before meeting her—little things to me that will be a huge fucking deal to her.
“Zach!” she says excitedly as we approach the makeshift shelter Henry, Patrick, and I built this morning while the girls were eating that gross avocado toast they love and doing yoga. Well, Henry supervised, telling us what we were doing wrong while he sipped tea that Kennedy made for him. She put it in her mug that says ‘Boss Bitch’ in pink sparkly letters. So to be technical, I built it while Patrick yelled about the stupidfuckingshit that was stupid, fucking, and shitty. What should have been a twenty-minute project actually took an hour and a half. But I’m pleased to see that the makeshift roof is keeping the ground dry, and the dog bed will remain a warm place for the fox to curl up and eat if he wants to.
“Did you do this?” She spins, her gloved hands coming up to rest on her rosy cheeks. She doesn’t wait for me to answer before she leaps into my arms, wrapping herself around me and peppering kisses all over my face. “You’re seriously the best, like I couldn’t ask for anyone to get me more than you do,” she says, holding my face in her hands.
I slide my hands up her thighs to rest on her ass, but I’m trying not to be a prick here because her eyes are glassy with happy tears, and her gratitude is so sincere I feel it in my chest. She presses her forehead to mine, and at this moment, I wish that I was the guy she needs me to be. I can be her friend and give her whatever she needs, but I can’t take her heart, her body, her soul because I know what I’m capable of, and I don’t want to crush her into tiny, bitter pieces. I’m not even worried about physically hurting her, because that came later for my parents. I’m worried that if my possessive side takes over, the part of me that wants to own her, that I’ll crush her spirit—the very thing that lights up my entire world.
“Patrick helped,” I say with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood, and it works because she pulls back, her hands still linked together at the base of my head.
“No way!” Her surprise makes me grin, but it’s not enough to make me forget I have her pert ass in my hands, and her thighs wrapped around me in a way that keeps me awake at night. I quickly move my hands up to the small of her back. “Patrick...Carter? Did he hit his head? Or was he drunk?” she asks and giggles, shimmying for me to let her down. Before I can answer, she’s over at the hut we built at the back of the shed, placed so the fox can easily move from under his hiding spot to the shelter.
“I think Everly’s softening him up a bit, but he still tried to fight Henry twice for telling us how to do it, and called me a son of a motherfucker, so he’s got a ways to go,” I say, but all I can do is watch her as she situates the food and water, then fluffs the straw around the dog bed. She’s perfect. Too perfect, and I don’t want to mess her up, but god if I don’t want her.
“That’s still, just…” She smiles, shaking her head. “It just means a lot to me.” She’s up and hugging me again, and I hear a muffled, “Thank you” against my chest.
I turn my head to glance at the house when I hear the door slam. It must be Tommy because he’s been stomping around lately being a dick to everyone. And we’re letting it slide given the circumstances, but if he snaps at Kennedy one more time, I’m going to hand him his ass.
Trying to avoid that whole potential situation, I tell her, “Come on, let’s get you inside before your ears freeze off.”
I immediately notice that Henry already has the fireplace roaring. I don’t know when that became his job, but he’s the one that always handles it. He’s probably afraid one of us will burn the house down. Tommy tends to do the wood chopping because Patrick with an axe isn’t something any of us are comfortable with. Miles makes sure the trash is taken care of and recycling is sorted to Kennedy’s specifications, and I’m in charge of snow removal. So really, we all have our jobs here.
I see the way Kennedy smiles when she spots Patrick and Everly lying on the floor near the fireplace. Everly is on her stomach, stretched out on a fluffy blanket, and Patrick is using her lower back as a pillow while he listens to her read to him. If he can be a volatile sonofabitch, ready to swing first and ask questions never, yet still be gentle and treat Everly like she’s his everything...I could be that good, I could giv
e that to Kennedy. Couldn’t I? The minute the thought enters my mind, I immediately see my mother’s battered and bloody face and my father screaming that he knew she’d been with another man. He was jealous, controlling, and possessive. He was everything I feel for Kennedy.
“Thanks for building the fox that cute little house,” Kennedy says to Patrick, wrinkling her nose like she’s not sure she wants to wake the sleeping beast.
Patrick cracks one eye open, and Everly stops reading aloud, but her eyes never leave the book.
“I thought it was for you to live in,” he says dryly, which causes Kennedy to reach down, grab a throw pillow from the couch, and chuck it at his head. “Want me to help you pack your shit?”
“Patrick Carter, will you please be nice?” Everly asks, rolling over on her back, but he catches her by the hips, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his face into the sweatshirt covering her stomach.
“You know, your name really suits you,” Kennedy says to Patrick, raising an eyebrow at him. I don’t know where she’s going with this, but by her tone I know she’s about to nail him with something. “It has a really nice ring to it.”
Why.
Patrick’s head snaps up, and I wrap an arm around Kennedy because I’m not sure if he’s agile enough to jump over the couch to snatch her up.
“Fuck off,” he growls, but Everly is so used to his grouchy ass that she doesn’t even realize what’s going on. She swats him but ultimately lets him go back to using her as a pillow.
“I’m sorry,” Everly says, giving Kennedy a sympathetic smile before looking at me knowingly. She’s still propped up on one elbow, and she uses her free hand to gesture her frustration about his attitude, narrowing her eyes at him. He’s giving her a dopey-ass grin and rubbing her leg, though, because apparently, that’s what gets him out of the doghouse with my cousin. I shake my head and run a hand over the top of my head in thought. What a circus that wedding is going to be: Patrick will be yelling at everyone, Everly will be doing everything for everyone on her own special day, and Kennedy will be running around, keeping all of the Elite on their toes.
Kennedy smirks, grabbing my hand, and starts heading for the kitchen before calling back over her shoulder to Patrick and Everly. “I’m hungry. I think I feel like onion rings.”
“You’re a fucking nightmare,” I hear Patrick bark, but it’s overshadowed by her giggles.
“Stop, he’s going to bury you in the snow tonight,” I say, laughing at her, and I lift our linked hands, letting her spin under and over to the fridge. I sit at the island, watching her gather stuff for whatever she’s making, and it occurs to me that I could do this forever. She could keep me wrapped so tightly around her finger that I’m entertained just watching her cook dinner. I can easily imagine her in our own kitchen, swatting me out of her way as she manages to do five things at once with such ease.
Tommy stomps in, pushing past Kennedy, knocking her into the counter. He doesn’t seem to notice as he takes the blood-stained wraps off of his fingers, and I know he’s been down in the gym, beating the shit out of the boxing bag.
I’m up and around the island, putting myself between him and Kennedy. Tommy’s my brother, but she’s my everything, and I’m not going to let her get knocked around because he’s in a shitty mood.
“You good, man?” I ask, but he doesn’t acknowledge me as he shoulders by us, jerking away when Kennedy reaches out to touch his arm.
“Knock it off,” I growl, and he glares at me. I know exactly what he’s doing. He’s heated and wants a fight, and I’m not going to give it to him.
“Do you need to talk? It’s going to be okay,” Kennedy says softly, no trace of the humor from just moments ago.
“Will it?” he snaps, his dark brows furrowed. He presses his lips into a thin line before he opens the drawer under the oven, one that I’ve never opened. He grabs an entire pack of Oreos that he and Miles must have stashed there, pointedly shows them to Kennedy as if to say “fight me” and then storms back downstairs.
I haven’t slept a single second since I crawled into my empty bed. I’d spent far too long standing in Kennedy’s doorway, trying to talk myself out of begging her to let me sleep in her bed. I can’t trust myself to keep the lines of our friendship in place when it’s this late at night, and I crave her touch.
I look down my wrist in the dark and rub my fingers over the braided friendship bracelet Kennedy bought me last summer when she went on vacation to the beach. I haven’t taken it off since she excitedly fastened it on me. She has a matching one, but she wears it around her ankle. I smile at the memory, but then I hear the wind whipping against the window in my bedroom.
Without another thought, I’m throwing back the covers, and I don’t even bother grabbing a shirt before I’m out in the hallway, ready to storm into her bedroom to make sure she’s okay. But I don’t make it that far—instead, I collide with her in the hall, nearly running her small frame over. I’m quick enough and so familiar with her body that I’m able to scoop her up with one arm as I reach out to avert our fall by bracing my other arm against the wall.
She squeals as I stumble, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Ouch!”
“Shit, sorry, Kenney,” I whisper, but I pull her closer, hoisting her up and pressing her back into the wall in the dark hallway. I can feel her trembling, and I hate that she’s so afraid of the wind, but selfishly I’m proud that she was headed to my room to seek comfort. When she’s scared, I’m the one she looks for, and that makes me feel twelve feet tall.
Patrick and Everly’s door swings open, and I’m momentarily blinded by his flashlight as he advances on us.
“Patrick, knock it off, it’s us!” Kennedy squeals and I use my hand to shield her eyes. He lowers the flashlight, but now the glow illuminates his scowling face.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, will you two just screw already?” He’s already turned around and is stomping back to his room. I see Everly peek her head out. He growls when he sees her. “Didn’t I tell you to stay in there until I checked out the noise? That could have been a Leary or a burglar or... ” He’s craning his neck and glowering.
“You asked me to wait in the room, and I did until I heard Kennedy,” she says, ducking under his arm that’s now on the doorframe. She smiles at me, but then her expression softens when her eyes land on Kennedy, who I’m still holding against my chest. “Are you okay? With the wind and all?”
Kennedy nods, and I feel her breathe in deep. She’s okay because we’re all here with her, but I feel her tense up every time a particularly strong gust of wind slams against the siding.
“I’m okay, you guys go back to bed.” She gives them her fake smile, the one she only uses when she’s sad or in pain. In all the time I’ve known her, I’ve only seen it a handful of times.
“It could have been the Learys,” I hear Patrick’s loud whisper, muffled once their bedroom door is shut behind them, but my eyes are on Kennedy. I palm the side of her head, letting the silky strands of her hair slide through my rough fingers.
“It sounds like the whole house is going to be ripped apart.” Her voice is tiny, vulnerable, and fuck if I don’t want to fix every problem she’s ever faced.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper, nuzzling my cheek against hers, and before I can stop myself, I’m pressing soft kisses against the side of her head. “Do you wanna sleep in my room or yours?”
Without hesitation, she’s grabbing my hand and pulling me toward my room. “The wind is hitting the side of the house where my window is the hardest,” she explains, as I shut and lock my door. The only light in the room is coming from my computer screen saver, and I watch her climb into my bed and burrow under the comforter.
“Thanks. For always knowing when I need you,” she whispers when I slide in beside her, wrapping her in my arms and pretending for the moment that she’s mine to care for this way. She could have a boyfriend that can give her all of himself, who could protect her always, instead of the w
ay I only step up when she absolutely needs it. She shouldn’t have to settle for the hollow heart of a selfish asshole who can never be the white knight she deserves. The guilt I feel, and all the warring emotions feel like they’re going to rip me in half.
I think she might be asleep because her body’s stopped trembling, and her breathing has evened out. I kiss the top of her head and quietly ask, “Why did you pick me?” But the truth is, I don’t really want to know because I’m sure I can’t live up to whatever expectations she has.
“I heard you have a big willy,” she says seriously, apparently not sleeping, and breaks into a sleepy laugh when I swat the side of her thigh.
“While that is accurate, I want the truth.” I leave my hand on her thigh, gripping with my fingers and pulling her back tightly against me. I love the way my large palm engulfs her petite leg.
My stomach coils with anticipation when she says, “Hamburgers.”
“What?” I chuckle out the words and tug her until she turns over to face me, because out of all the sappy shit I had running through my head, hamburgers didn’t make the list of possibilities.
“The first time we ate together, you got a burger and I ordered a veggie burger with no cheese,” she says sleepily into my chest, but I can tell by her tone that she’s smiling. I let my hand slide up and down her back. “You just asked me if I wanted fries, you didn’t give me any shit for the whole vegan thing. Even my family gives me a hard time for that.”
I sit up in the bed quite abruptly and pull her up with me because to be honest, I’m feeling a little jilted. Here I am expecting her to profess how she fell in love with me deeply enough that she’s willing to risk our entire friendship, something that means more to me than anything, even hockey—and I fucking lived and breathed hockey before I met Kennedy—but she’s giving me hamburgers.
Damaged Elite (The Darlington Elite Book 2) Page 8
