When Our Worlds Stand Still

by Lindsey Iler

“Let’s get you inside and into warmer clothes,” I offer for my own selfish reasons. Kennedy looks gorgeous as I lead her out of the hot tub, taking special care not to slip on the wood. Her body glistens with beads of water, and steam rushes from her warm skin.

  Our eyes meet when I wrap a towel around her, rubbing her arms. Without a single word, she stands on her tiptoes and kisses me. This isn’t a friendly kiss. One you waste on just anyone. No, this reminds me of the first time we kissed in her bedroom. Her bottom lip drags away from mine, and I hear myself groan.

  “What’s that for?” I take a step back.

  “I need a reason to kiss you?” she challenges.

  “As long as you do it as often as possible,” I whisper, but I know she hears me when I glance back. A shy smile forms before she turns to hide it.

  We walk through the back door. Every eye shifts to us, and the room falls silent. I glance down at Kennedy when she steps up beside me. Her fingers intertwine with mine. It’s a brilliant, long waited sight.

  Kennedy’s head leans into my shoulder, and Violet’s eyes widen with excitement. “Please tell me the smile on Kennedy’s face is permanent.” She jumps around in her seat.

  I ignore Violet’s inquisition. “You hungry, Ken?”

  “Starving, actually.”

  “What? You weren’t going to ask me to make you a delicious, romantic meal?” Rick piles ingredients on the countertop.

  “No, I was going to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but if you insist,” I joke, making Kennedy laugh as I guide her to an open stool.

  “Mark here was explaining to us how you two came to be together on campus again.” Amanda leans forward and rests her elbows on the counter.

  “He couldn’t bear to be away from me.” I blow a kiss to Mark, and he holds up his hand to catch it.

  “I’ll let you have that one.” Mark rolls his eyes.

  What everyone else doesn’t know is, Mark did come up to Connecticut for me. I may have never asked him, but he heard the unspoken request and followed me here right after freshman year. Although I think it’s been hard for him to leave his family, he seems to enjoy our team. Plus, if he hadn’t moved, he wouldn’t have met Bea. I’ll remind him to thank me later.

  Kennedy glances back and forth between the two of us, questioning our weird exchange, but drags her gaze to where Rico sautés something in a hot pan.

  “How did you learn to cook like that?” Kennedy asks, stretching to look over his shoulder. Her nose guides her to steal a piece of chicken from the pan and pops it in her mouth. “Ahh … ahh …” She searches the counter for something to drink, fanning her hand in front of her mouth. “It’s hot.”

  “Well, yeah, Kennedy.” Rico gestures to the steaming frying pan.

  “You should’ve gone to culinary school.” She searches for a fork, then snatches another piece of chicken. She blows on the hunk of meat to cool it off.

  “I hope to open my own restaurant one day.” Rico looks at the rest of us, then back to Ken.

  His response surprises me. “Really?” I question, sitting down on the stool closest to the stove.

  “I mean, it makes sense. Remember when he made us tomato soup and those fancy-ass, grilled cheese sandwiches?” Mark adds, turning to the bouncing curls beside him. “Bea, I swear to God, this was the best meal I’ve ever eaten.”

  “If I ever found myself on death row, this would be the meal I’d beg for,” I reiterate Mark’s admiration.

  “Looks like you found where you belong then,” Kennedy states, patting him on the back.

  “And where do you belong?” Rico asks. His face, which is usually full of laughter lines, is drawn in a serious, flat smile.

  “Where I’ve always belonged.” Her wink makes the weight on my heart ease a small amount. She sits on my lap, and Rico’s slides a plate in front of us.

  Kennedy grabs the fork and feeds me several pieces of chicken. The conversation around us moves to everyone’s majors and plans after college. I find it funny how a short year can change you, can affect you, and the future you dream about. It wasn’t so long ago we were too wrapped up in our own messes to take the time to even think about tomorrow.

  “Do you want to put a movie in?” I whisper in Kennedy’s ear when our plate is empty. She wiggles in my lap and clutches the towel wrapped around her.

  Over her shoulder, she smiles. “Only if I get to pick.” She stands and walks to the door, but not without me watching her. “I’ll see you guys in the morning,” she calls over her shoulder.

  I follow behind her, but a petite hand wrapping around my forearm stops me. A bushel of red hair greets me. Violet pulls me into a tight hug. When she steps back, her eyes grow tender.

  “Thank you for loving her as much as you do, even when she became unlovable.” Violet sniffs, then runs over to Dan.

  “Violet,” I call. She turns. “Kennedy has never been unlovable a day in her life.”

  She nods, but her lips are flat and an underlying tension fills her eyes.

  “I’ll catch you guys in the morning, okay?” I wave over my shoulder.

  “Remind Kennedy we have pedicures scheduled tomorrow morning,” Bea shouts down the hallway.

  I turn to acknowledge the fact the girls will be stealing some time away from me. When I walk in my room, I find Kennedy cozied up to my pillow. For a split second, I swear she’s sniffing the cotton pillowcase.

  “What are you doing?”

  She’s fast to sit up, adjusting her tank top and flattening her hair. She’s been caught. Kennedy sighs, and her shoulders slump.

  “I forgot what you smelled like.” A look of defeat wraps around her eyes. “I mean, it hasn’t been that long, but I think I found it hardest when little parts of you started to slip from my memory.”

  I grab a pair of sweats from my dresser, and, remembering the way she looked at me in the hot tub, drop my wet shorts. When I turn, her bottom lip is tucked between her teeth. Her eyes roam my body, never truly landing on any particular part. She groans when I put on a t-shirt. As I pull the covers back, Kennedy writhes against the soft sheets, her knees clenched tight. I crawl into the space beside her and rest my head against the pillow she’d been romancing.

  “What movie did you choose to bore me?”

  “I thought we’d switch it up and watch a scary movie,” Kennedy says.

  I lean over to the light switch and darken the room.

  “What are you doing?” Kennedy abruptly sits up.

  “If it’s a scary movie, then we’re doing it right, which means the lights are off, and you’re half-naked.”

  “What?” Kennedy’s eyes narrow.

  “Every classic scary movie has half-naked girls, so it only seems right you take your pants off.” I pinch the tight fabric covering her skin.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Does this look like I’m kidding?” I attempt to keep a straight face but crack a smile.

  “Graham Black, two can play that game.” Kennedy yanks her tank top over her head, leaving her in tight yoga pants and a bright pink bra. I shrug, thinking she’s done, but always willing to surprise me, she reaches beneath the blanket, coming up with a handful of black material. “Don’t challenge me, Mr. Black. You’ll lose.”

  “Is that a threat?” I reach past her to put my phone on the bedside table. My chest bumps against hers with deliberation. Her intake of breath says it has the effect I’m hoping for.

  “Aren’t we too old to be playing these games?” Kennedy tries to straighten out the situation.

  “That sort of sounded like a white flag waving in the air, if I ever heard one before.” I laugh.

  “I felt you in the hot tub. It took two seconds for me to be on your lap before little Graham down there stood at attention. You won’t last a day,” Kennedy threatens as she rolls over and tucks the blanket beneath her chin. Her eyes settle on the television.

  I wrap my body around her until we’re tucked together like a pair of sp
oons, my dick bumping against her ass. “Little, huh?” I whisper in her ear. “Let’s put a little wager on this one, shall we?” I roll her back over to look in her crystal clear eyes but am surprised to glimpse a storm brewing in them.

  “What are the stakes?” Kennedy’s eyebrow perks up as if she’s actually flirting with the idea of making a bet with me.

  “If I win … you have to get my name tattooed on your ass.”

  “And if I manage to keep my hands to myself longer, you have to perform a scene from Swan Lake … in front of everyone.”

  “Deal.” I reach out to shake her hand.

  “Did I mention in a tutu and tights?” She clenches mine and we make a silent agreement.

  What the fuck did I do?

  “Fair enough.” I shrug. “Now, what are the rules?”

  She releases my hand. “The rules are simple, darling. Keep your hands to yourself. The first person to make a move, a real move,” Kennedy nods her head to emphasize that small detail, “loses.”

  “You’re on.” I accept the challenge with a wink and smack her ass beneath the blanket. “My name’s gonna look awfully nice on there.”

  Kennedy kicks off the covers. “It sure is hot in here.” She fans her face, looking like a sexy southern bell in the scorching heat.

  Her claim is ludicrous. We keep the house at sixty-six degrees, even when it’s freezing outside. Rico claims it helps him sleep, and Lord knows, we don’t need a grumpy Hulk running around the halls, dying of heat exhaustion.

  With Kennedy’s bare flesh on display, and her adorable boyshorts hugging tight to her trim thighs, a silent groan escapes my lips. It isn’t until she starts seductively bending and twisting beside me that I roll my eyes.

  “Well played, Ken,” I slap her ass again, “but it’s not going to work on me.”

  Pushing play, I sit up and lean against the headboard, shifting until the pillow behind me is comfortable. Kennedy squirms on the mattress, but I refuse to cover her.

  “It’s so warm under this blanket,” I boast, rubbing the blanket between my feet. Kennedy’s strained lips cause me to laugh. “Not such a good idea now, huh?”

  Kennedy squares her shoulders and moves next to me. “What are you talking about? I’m great.” She shakes her head frantically, trying to convince me, and perhaps herself, she doesn’t have a sheet of goosebumps over her skin.

  The opening credits start and the infamous Halloween theme begins. A frigid Kennedy rubs her hands up and down her arms. Instead of paying attention to the movie, I keep my eyes on her. She flinches at all the right places. Midway through the movie, Kennedy reaches over and pulls the covers over herself, gaining an amused laugh from me. Still, her eyes stay trained on the television.

  I inch closer, but never truly touch her. When Michael Myers pops up on the screen for the first time, she jumps. Her elbow grazes my chest. My eyes try to focus on anything other than her mouth and I mentally beg myself to not lean in and kiss her. My head tilts to the side and I witness her eyes widen with surprise.

  “Giving up so soon?” Kennedy playfully jokes, but I hear a hint of relief in her words.

  I abruptly turn. The movie holds my attention until the final credits roll. Kennedy flings the covers off her lap, jumps from the bed, and walks to the door. Over her shoulder, she waves.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” I yell as she steps into the hall. I’m quick on my feet and block her path. Every door flies open at my loud voice. Dan and Violet seem bored with our antics. Rico, on the other hand, scans his eyes over Kennedy’s near naked body. “Can you, at least, duck back in my bedroom and not have your ass on display for my roommates?” I point behind her, snapping my fingers at Rico to look anywhere else.

  “You mean the ass you won’t be touching anytime soon?” she challenges, grinning from ear to ear as if she won.

  Rico shouts, “Ohhhhh.” He clearly enjoys Kennedy’s jab at me.

  I stride up to her. My bare chest bumps against her arm. She tilts her neck to the side, exposing the place I love to kiss the most. “If you want to play that game, we can, but know,” I blow a hot breath over the taut skin, “you won’t win. I’ll have you begging for me to touch you before you walk out the door tomorrow.”

  “Why do you guys even do this?” Mark shakes his head and walks back into his room. Bea follows behind him with a laugh. She finds us amusing as much as Rico does.

  “Rico, eyes up top.” I glare holes into his head over Kennedy’s shoulder, my eyes wide in a silent threat. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

  Kennedy turns to smirk at him. “Rick, you can look.”

  Who is this girl?

  “She’s got a nice ass, man. Kudos,” Rico congratulates me. A hand I assume belongs to Amanda pulls him back into the room.

  “I’d watch it. He’s hit every one of us for far less things when it comes to her,” Dan yells. He pulls Violet back into Griffin’s room.

  Once we’re alone, Kennedy turns, her hands on her hips. “I’m going to bed.” She starts to walk to the stairs, but I pull her behind me.

  “In my bed,” I demand.

  “You want me to sleep in your bed?”

  “For selfish reasons, yes. For this bet, no.”

  Kennedy runs a finger across my chest and around my back as she passes. “You’ll be able to handle my ass up against your dick all night?” She stops beside me, leaning up and whispering in my ear, “You know I wiggle a lot in my sleep, Graham.”

  “Who the fuck are you? And what the hell have you done to my sweet Kennedy Conrad?” I ask, curious to know this vixen in front of me.

  She smiles that sweet, innocent smile of hers. “She grew up.”

  “I think I like this side of you.”

  “Enough to call it quits, drag me into your bedroom, and do what you’ve been thinking about doing since I walked through your door?” Kennedy runs her fingers down my arm.

  A sheen of sweat builds on my body from the urge fighting to win over my mind. I ghost my lips over the spot behind her ear but pull away.

  “Nice try.” I walk to my room but turn to address her once more. “Blankets are in the hallway closet. Hope you don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”

  What the fuck?

  I’m in the middle of the hallway in my underwear, and he leaves me here?

  I think he’s had a change of heart when the door opens behind me. His head peeks out, and when he locates me, a sinful grin crosses his face.

  “Here’s your clothes.” The balled up material hits me hard in the stomach, and I let them fall to the floor. He gazes at my chest. “It gets cold in the house at night.” With a wave of his fingers, he’s gone.

  “Goodnight, Graham,” I call through his door, pulling on my pants and shirt.

  “Night, Ken.” His quiet laughter is evidence he’s having as much fun as I am.

  As I traipse down the steps, taking extra caution to make sure I don’t fall, the dark living room envelops me. The only light comes through the sheer curtains. The soft material of the couch soothes me. I curse the boy upstairs and then laugh because this is typical of us.

  We’re a constant push and pull. Still, somehow we work. We’ve always worked. This is who Graham and I are. We challenge and test. We breathe life into each other. The cat and mouse game we play is our way of teasing each other.

  Graham has always had this ability to bring me to the brink. This time is no different. He’s attempting to bring me to the edge, hoping I’ll jump, but what he doesn’t know is I’m willing to resist my need to feel him above me to prove my point. A point I’m not sure of yet, but I know, deep down, there’s got to be a reason for this torture. There has to be.

  *****

  The loud sun streaming through the curtains wakes me. I press my face into the cushion. Soft material slips down my bare arm.

  “You looked cold last night.”

  Graham’s voice startles me. I roll over and peer at him through sleep-heavy e
yes.

  “How would you know? If I remember, and correct me if I’m wrong, you slammed your bedroom door in my face.” I yawn and stretch as I plant my feet on the ground. With purpose, I stick my chest out. Graham’s eyes melt over me. When I’m alert enough to really look at him, his bare chest is dripping with sweat. “Have you been running?”

  “Graham finds it to be a great release, especially since he hasn’t gotten any in many, many moons,” Rick explains, bursting through the room, but taking the time to grip Graham’s sweaty shoulders. He gives him a quick shake, then runs to the kitchen.

  Graham gives a non-committal shrug. “It’s a good way to release some pent-up energy, and since you won’t be helping me in that department anytime soon, I figured I might as well.”

  My hand ghosts through the air in the direction of his tight abs. At the sight, my mouth waters. “Explains why you’re in such good shape.” The compliment squeaks out in a bare whisper.

  Graham runs his hands over his taut chest. I have to hold myself back from reaching across the table and doing the exact same thing to him.

  Graham breaks me from my daydream. “Like what you see, Ken?”

  I blink the desire from my eyes, remembering our little bet. His smirk tells me I’m unsuccessful, and he’s aware of my need to touch him. “I’ve always liked what I saw.” I stand and prance over to him, standing behind the high back chair. My arms wrap around his shoulders, not caring about the sweat transferring onto my skin. My hands skim his chest, stopping at his waistband. “Unlike you, though, I have some self-control.”

  We both look down at the tightened material of his gym shorts. As I walk away, I grab a throw pillow off the couch and toss it onto his lap, covering the evidence.

  “Kennedy.” His chair scrapes against the hardwood floor, and I stop on the stairs and face him. He stands proudly with his hands by his side. My eyes dip below his waist. “He knows what he wants, is all. It has nothing to do with self-control.”

  I take a deep breath, fully registering the outline of his dick. He chuckles when my tongue wets my lips. He strides to where I stand on the bottom step, bringing us nearly eye to eye. “Maybe you’re the one having trouble with self-control.” His finger grazes between my breasts down to skim the apex of my legs. “You’re wet.”