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Brendon: Yeah.
Ryan: You call Anna?
Brendon: You call anyone?
Ryan: Fair enough. I'll let Dean and Walker know. Can you meet with a lawyer Friday?
Brendon: I'm booked all day. But I'll make it work.
"Ryan?" Kaylee asks.
"Yeah." I slip my phone into my pocket. Try to wipe my smile off my face.
She notices. Bites her lip. "You told him."
I nod.
"It's really happening?"
"There's a lot of legal shit first, but—"
She throws her arms around me and buries her head in my chest. "Congrats."
"Thanks." I press my palm between her shoulder blades, over her cardigan.
It's not like with other women.
I feel Kaylee in my bones.
She doesn't hide her sigh when she pulls back.
There's something up with her. Something she isn't saying.
Her eyes find mine. "How is he?"
"Same as always."
"Pining and moody?"
I chuckle. "Don't let him hear you say that."
"He knows."
He does. Again, I motion after you.
Kaylee nods a thank you and steps into the lobby. The cafe is around the corner. It's set up cafeteria style, with food in fridges, steam trays, baskets of fruit everywhere.
She grabs a teal tray and places it on the metal railing in front of a sneeze guard. Her gaze flits to the picture menu board. "Veggie meatbal
ls too. This is gourmet."
I grab a tray and place it next to hers. My body begs me to move closer. To wrap my arms around her. To throw her on that table, roll her skirt up her thighs, and rub her over those cotton panties.
I'm imagining her panties.
That blue pair with Paradise written on the crotch in black.
Fuck, has there ever been an article of clothing that accurate?
