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Dean appeared then, his eyes flickering between us. “What’s going on?”
“Kennedy wants to be a nanny,” Taylor explained, and without looking in Hot Professor’s direction, she aimed her index finger at him. “He’s Nate’s friend and needs one, so she thinks she’s going to walk up to him—a stranger—and ask him for a jobandhousing because she’s avoided telling me that Carol’s moving and now she has nowhere to live.”
Dean shot his gaze to me. “Kenny, seriously?”
“I was going to figure it out on my own,” I said, my voice rising in annoyance.
Dean narrowed his brows. “And your new plan is to be a nanny for some random guy?”
“Well, he’s not some random guy. He’s the internet’s Hot Professor.”
They both rolled their eyes at me.
“And he would have to hire me first, but…yeah. I could be a nanny.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Dean asked at the same time my sister said, “You can’t.”
And that was the word I hated.Can’t. I’d heard it since I was fourteen.
There are a lot of things a person with epilepsy can’t do. Can’t have too much caffeine, can’t have too much sugar, can’t be around strobe lights or intense music, can’t have too much stress, can’t go swimming by myself or play certain sports. Can’t climb tall structures or operate heavy machinery, which I guess would really piss me off if I wanted to drive a bulldozer.
I’d been ruled bycan’tfor the last decade.
It was the reason why I hadn’t settled forcan’t. I did what I wanted now because I needed to have some control in my life. Whether it was staying out late with friends or quitting a job I didn’t love, I wasn’t going to be ruled by something I couldn’t control. I’d spent too much time being afraid of blacking out and never waking up again, but I’d eventually realized I couldn’t live like that. I had to live for today, right now. And I tookcan’tout of my vocabulary.
Which was why I stood up, sent my sister a withering glare, then set my shoulders and marched to the other end of the bar.
“Excuse me?”
Three pairs of eyes slanted to me.
“My name’s Kennedy, and I hear you’re in need of a nanny.”
THREE
LIAM
“My name’s Kennedy, and I hear you’re in need of a nanny.”
It took me a second to realize those words were directed at me. Dylan elbowed me in the side and leaned back, allowing me a view of the woman who’d been hidden behind him.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“My name is Kennedy Novak, and I was just talking to Nate—” she motioned to my friend, currently leaning against the bar “—and he told me you were in search of a nanny. I would like to apply.”
I faced Nate, who smiled, chagrined. “You telling everybody my business?”
“Of course he is,” Dylan said from behind his pint of beer.
Nate held his hands up in innocence. “Kennedy’s great.”
“We’re looking for a nanny,” Jude told him. “What do you know about her besides that she’s great?”
“You can ask her since she’s standing right here,” the woman said, thoughwomanwas pushing it. She looked young, early twenties. She could’ve been one of my students.
Jesus, I hoped she wasn’t one of my students.
Jude craned his neck to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude, but our friend has a habit of?—”
