by Lyla Payne
I made sure not to crush her when my arms shook too hard to hold me up. I rolled to the side but pulled her with me, unwilling to leave the warmth of her body just yet, inside or out.
With her face tucked against me, it took a minute to register the quiet sniffles and trembling shoulders. When I pulled back, she tried to obscure her face, hide her tears, but I refused to let her, palming her cheeks between my hands.
“I’m sorry,” her voice broke as her blue-green-gold gaze met mine, agony swimming amidst her tears.
“Oh, strawberry. Sorry for what?”
“Crying after we have sex. It’s so fucked up. You probably think I’m the weirdest chick ever.”
“Are you kidding? I make girls weep all the time. I’m just that good.”
She rewarded me with a wet laugh, reaching up a finger to smudge away the leftover tears. The air between us shifted, as though waiting to be filled with her explanation, but when she didn’t say anything more, I nudged.
“I’m here in my most relaxed and happy state. If you wanted to talk about it, I mean.” Now didn’t seem like the time to tease her about lying before, about not remembering that she’d cried, or that we’d had sex at all before tonight. We’d both known the whole time, anyway.
The silence in my room was perfection—the sound of her breathing, the way it felt as it hit the cooling sweat on my chest, the way her body fit in my arms—and I could have stayed there forever without saying a word. Nothing would be gained from forcing Kennedy to open up.
“It feels really good. With you. I mean, even though it’s not too rough and you’re not hurting me, I still….”
She took a shuddering breath and I held still, afraid of startling her into silence.
“I still feel it, Wright. Feel amazing.”
I rubbed her back, then tugged lightly on the ends of her hair, trying to keep the conversation as normal as possible. Which, with Kennedy, would be quite the feat. “It’s supposed to feel good, strawberry. That’s the whole point. And you and I…we are really good together.”
Her eyes flicked to mine, a bit of surprise in them. “…it’s not like everyday boring vanilla sex for you?”
“Don’t get me wrong—when you’re back to a hundred percent, I plan to perform many, many experiments as far as what that little body is capable of. I mean, if you’re still interested once you don’t need a place to stay. But yeah, really. That was fucking great. Being with you is like…it’s like going home.” I laughed, embarrassment heating my blood. “That sounds so stupid.”
“It doesn’t sound stupid,” she whispered.
It wasn’t lost on me that she hadn’t reciprocated my feelings. For some reason, the fact that I wanted Kennedy to talk more made me spill more of my guts than I should. I was handing over way too much ammunition way too early in this relationship. Especially given that she would, by her own prediction, upend my world.
Then again, it kind of felt as though she already had.
“Tell me something.”
“Hmm?” Her voice was sleepy, already far away.
“Why does it make you cry? Feeling good?” It tore something inside me to think that, all of these years, she’d only felt bad things. I wanted to make sure she only felt wonderful, beautiful, incredible things from now on.
It was a stupid thing to wish—no matter how hard we tried, we couldn’t protect each other from pain. She wouldn’t be this girl that captivated me without her still-open wounds. I wouldn’t be me without having gone through everything I had with Trent . But it didn’t mean I didn’t want to be the one to pick her up.
“It’s not okay to feel good,” she mumbled.
I buried my face in her hair, breathing deep and pulling her tighter against me. “Why not?”
“Because they can’t feel anything.”
Her breathing evened out over the next several minutes while my throat burned and I held onto her, hoping that somehow she would feel that I cared, and that she deserved more.
Chapter 17
The next morning we didn’t talk about what she said the night before, or over the next couple of weeks. Kennedy and I spent pretty much all of our time together, except for classes and my study groups, and even though I held my breath every time I unlocked my door at the end of the day, she surprised me by being there and being sober.
I wouldn’t describe her as happy, and smiles were rare. One thing at a time.
Her bruises healed and the sex had only gotten better. She didn’t cry anymore, though sometimes afterward she felt as though she might as well be a hundred miles away as lying in my arms. My mind was pretty blown—I’d never slept with the same girl more than a handful of times, usually because my interest level hit a sharp decline after night one. With Kennedy, there was always something new, or at least it seemed that way to me. It didn’t seem possible, but I was more desperate to get inside her each time.
She sat on the bed in one of my T-shirts and no pants, long legs distracting me while I studied for a test on film history. As much as I loved movies, some of this stuff was pretty tedious, and spending so many hours rolling around in bed hadn’t been super helpful as far as my study habits.
Her cold toes poked me in the leg, then returned again when I ignored her. The pink polish was almost gone, just faint streaks toward the center. When she jabbed me again, I sighed and stuck a paperclip in the textbook to hold my place.
I loved having her here, and spending time with her, and fucking her silly about every night, but none of that meant she didn’t irritate me sometimes. It was another novelty, the fact that she could annoy me and still turn me on without trying.
“You know, it bugs me that I study like, four hours a day for my perfect grades and you just sit there eating popsicles and looking pretty.”
“Do you know what I’m thinking about while I’m sucking on this popsicle, Wright?” She waggled her eyebrows at me as she tongued the cherry treat.
The lower half of me moved to attention before I could look away, but my groan only encouraged her. “I have a test tomorrow, gorgeous. You’re just going to have to wait.”
She pouted, looking unfairly adorable. I wanted to toss the book across the room and bite that bottom lip. “I haven’t had a drink for two whole weeks. Shouldn’t I get something? Aren’t alcoholics supposed to celebrate the little things?”
I stilled, trying not to make a big deal out of her admission. It was the first time she’d come close to acknowledging that she had an actual drinking problem, not just the kind normal kids picked up in college.
“You’re right. I’m going to get you something.” I put the book down on the desk and stood up, holding out my hands. “Let’s go.”
She scooted to the edge of the bed on her knees and wrapped her arms around my waist. “We’re going out?”
“Yep. As much as I hate to say this…put on some pants.” I gave her ass a stiff swat, but then gave in and kissed her when she leaned into my lips.
The problem with kissing Kennedy was that it led to getting Kennedy naked and spending the next hour lost in the smell and heat of her body.
This time my willpower won out over my penis, though the latter was going to ache for the loss. He’d get his turn later, if the lust in her eyes when I broke the kiss was any indication.
“Pants.”
“You’re bossy.”
“You like it.”
“Only when we’re in bed.”
“We are in bed. Well, you are.”
She sighed and pulled my hair, then slid off the mattress and padded to the dresser, giving me what I was sure was a deliberate look at her ass when she bent over to pull out a sundress. I averted my eyes as she exchanged it for my T-shirt, because resisting the site of her mostly naked was too much to ask.
I ushered her out of the SEA house then took her hand and pulled her down the drive toward campus. We were close enough to walk, but most people drove on school days because nobody ever left on time. The late spring day
wound a warm breeze through the palm trees, though, and now that I’d gotten out of my room, a walk seemed like a great way to clear my head.
The sun was setting, giving the manicured lawns and landscaped pathways a golden hue. I’d grown up in North Carolina, and I’d never been anywhere else in the U.S. that could compare, but South Florida had its moments.
“Where did you grow up?” Fear grabbed my gut as soon as I asked, even though with anyone else, it would have been a harmless question. A lob.
Nothing that referenced Kennedy’s past was harmless.
Her fingers weaved with mine and she didn’t miss a step, but I knew her well enough by now to catch the shift in the wall that guarded her emotions. It had been about halfway down, which was as far as it ever went, but now slammed back up, threatening to cut us off.
“All over, really.” She paused. “My parents were both pretty high-profile oncologists. They hated the idea of ignoring the special cases, so they took visiting positions at all the best teaching hospitals and we moved every couple of years.”
It was more than I expected—she could have responded with a simple name of a city.
“Which was your favorite?”
“I liked different things about all of them. It was weird, I guess, but I thought moving was fun. I had friends like Ruby Cotton all over the country—my mother kept in close touch with several of her sorority sisters. Ruby in New Orleans, Jasmine in Portland. Cecelia in Maine. Joey in Philadelphia. Even Lily in Paris.” She shrugged. “Every place is really the same, once you live there. What about you?”
The normal nature of the conversation put me on edge. I was sure my sweating palm gave away my fear that one misstep could crumble the cliff’s edge.
“North Carolina. Wilmington area, until my dad ran for the senate, and then a suburb of Raleigh. I love it there. It’s…quiet.”
She shifted closer, until her side pressed against mine. “What do you like about the quiet?”
“I don’t know. I guess that I can hear myself think. I don’t like when it feels like my ideas come from outside my brain.”
We walked a few blocks in silence and the tension between us eased. She had told me something about her parents and nothing had exploded. I told myself to calm the fuck down, even though I realized now that she hadn’t said anything about her life after the car accident.
“Hey! What are you guys doing?”
I looked up to find the perky voice attached to Audra Stuart’s pretty freckled face. Blair came to a stop, too, but looked more reluctant about it.
“Out for a walk. What about y’all?” I asked, recovering from being knocked out of my inner monologue.
“We were on our way to the baseball game,” Audra explained, casting a curious glance between Kennedy and me, then down at our joined hands. A smile lit her face. “It’s good to see you, Kennedy. I’ve been thinking about you.”
“Thanks,” Kennedy said, her voice different than it was with me. Defensive.
Audra’s smile tightened and she shifted her weight, glancing at Blair. The longer the silence went on, the more uncomfortable it became, until finally Blair stepped toward Kennedy and folded her in a quick hug.
“I kind of miss your crazy ass, you know? You look good.”
To my surprise, Kennedy dropped my hand to give her roommate a return squeeze. Girls confused me. I thought they would hate each other after the drama at the hospital, but maybe Blair cared about her too much to watch the downward spiral—that, I could sympathize with, and Kennedy had needed a change. Something to alter her path.
“You guys want to come?” Blair asked after stepping back.
“Will it derail your big plans, Wright?” Kennedy’s tone still lacked certainty and confidence, but the hesitant expectation in her gaze suggested she’d like to tag along.
Maybe she missed her friends.
“No way. I go to baseball games a lot—Finn Lewis is one of our pledges.”
“Audra thinks he’s hot.”
“Geez, Blair, just throw it out there.”
Blair shrugged and a giggle escaped Kennedy. I relaxed, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to me, pressing a kiss to her temple. We followed Blair and Audra down the path to the baseball fields, where the lights cut through the deepening twilight and the sounds of the approaching summer welcomed us. Even though Kennedy seemed to want to go, and even though I wanted her to be happy, part of me would rather be alone with her.
I wondered if it was because of my solitary nature or because I worried that, outside the sanctuary of class and my room, this new Kennedy would disappear in front of my eyes.
*
Neither of the girls had a beer, and I didn’t either. I wondered if they did it for Kennedy, or because their fake I.D.s weren’t good enough to stand up to on-campus scrutiny. They chatted about what was new in the freshman dorm, who had hooked up with who, and some girls who had gotten caught with a kitten in their room. The kitten was still in residence, which left much speculation about what exactly was given to the R.A. in exchange for her silence.
“I’m glad you’re doing better after the hospital stay, Kennedy. I wanted to come and visit, but I was away for a swim meet, and my brother, Gavin, was in town from Afghanistan, too.”
“It’s fine, Audra. Everyone knows a Stuart would never neglect a charity case if she had a choice.” Kennedy softened the sarcastic edge to the words with a small smile.
“Was your dad hot about the story in the paper, Toby? I saw it the night before it came out and almost called, but…I don’t know why I didn’t.” Blair shrugged, looking right at me with her typical lack of embarrassment.
I filed away the information that she had access to the paper pre-printing for future reference. “We handled it. I haven’t even talked to my dad, honestly, so I’m sure it’s fine.”
“I’m glad you two are together, and that you’re getting help, Kennedy. Seriously.” Audra glared at Blair when she took an elbow in the ribs. “What? Are we not supposed to mention the elephant in the room?”
It wasn’t my place to respond to the treatment comment, but I was curious how Kennedy would reply, or if she would acknowledge it. I stayed silent, eating popcorn and pretending interest in the game, but scooted a little closer to Kennedy on the warm metal bleachers. We were behind by two runs, but they were both unearned and Finn was pitching a hell of a game. She leaned into me, putting a hand on my thigh. I pretended not to notice, but it felt good to lend her comfort, or maybe strength.
“It’s fine. I’m actually not going to treatment, other than seeing Dr. Porter. Well, and sex with Toby is proving very time consuming and exhausting, plus he’s making me go to class.”
“The horror,” Blair commented dryly. Her chocolate brown gaze wandered to me, and in the brief moment when I met it, the accusation there boiled irritation in my blood.
No one should know better than Blair the improbability of making Kennedy do anything she didn’t want to do.
“Well, it sounds like you’re keeping busy.” Audra’s too-chipper response grated, and the clear skepticism in her open, honest face increased my irritation.
Kennedy should be in treatment. We all knew it, except maybe the girl in question. I felt as though they’d given her over to me like parents exhausted by their toddler’s tantrum, expecting a fresh face to be able to work some kind of magic.
Anger boiled in my gut, and by the time Finn struck out the side it tingled in my fingers and toes. Kennedy was not a child. Her problems weren’t something that could be passed off or around—they’d been earned fair and square, and ignored for six-plus years. How on earth could they expect me to fix anything in a few weeks? Or ever?
A tiny voice in the back of my mind whispered that, while that might be true, some of that anger should be directed inward. I wasn’t being responsible about me, about my mental health. It would destroy my family to lose another son to any kind of breakdown.
But none of that was Kenn
edy’s fault—she didn’t even know about it. I’d made the decision to be there for her, and dammit, I would be there.
In the top of the ninth, I decided to leave the girls for a few minutes and complete my earlier mission to reward Kennedy for her sobriety. She might have been joking around, but the fact remained that it was a big deal, and I wanted her to know that I noticed her effort.
The memory of Trent trying to act like it didn’t matter the first time he got his one-month sober coin but grinning from ear to ear, made me sick to my stomach. I’d lost count of how many of those he’d palmed before he’d left us for good.
My phone rang as I exited the gate and cheers rose from the crowd behind me. I turned in time to see a home run sail out over left center field, tying the game, then fumbled my phone loose from my pocket.
The caller I.D. showed my dad’s private cell number—as though he’d heard Blair’s question or sensed my turmoil about Trent.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hi, son. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No, I’ve got a few minutes.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m at a baseball game but I just walked out for a minute to go to the, um, bathroom.”
“How are classes?”
“Dad, look. You’re busy, I’m busy. Classes are great, I’m not losing focus or making plans to run off to Hollywood to live in my car.”
“You’re grouchy. And I’m actually calling to make sure the issue Miriam dealt with the other day has been…handled.”
“I’m not sure what you mean by handled.” I stopped walking a safe distance away from the field, behind the concession stand and out of sight. My heart lifted into my throat at the mention of Miriam and the incident that had brought Kennedy and me together.
I wondered for the hundred millionth time when I would outgrow being intimidated by my father. Probably at least fifty years after most people, given that my father intimidated everyone. Still, most of the guys I knew at Whitman—like Quinn, for example—had shitty dads. I would take my overbearing, over-interested father any day, even if most of the time the extra dose of interest had to do with making sure I wasn’t embarrassing him in the papers.