“I’m ready for bed,” I announced. Figuring that would get Kill’s mind off of everything, leaving him focused on me. Kill jumped up, nearly knocking me to the floor.
“Night,” he said, tossing me over his shoulder. He ran upstairs before Van and Jessie had a chance to say goodnight back.
Kill drove me to school. We weren't ready to separate, wanting to milk all the time we could get together. As I walked away, a couple of girls stopped and crowded around the passenger-side window he’d been talking to me through. I glanced over my shoulder to find out why he’d stopped speaking. My eyes were assaulted with the sight of two asses in skin-tight jeans about to burst as they leaned into the open window.
I waited to see what would happen, wondering if the honeymoon was over. Their shoulders slouched at whatever he said to them, and they both slowly slunk away. They glanced over every couple of steps, most likely to see if he’d changed his mind.
I cocked my head as Kill put his car in park and stepped out, covering the space between us in long confident strides. He snagged me by the waist and kissed me. I stared up at him as he held me in his arms.
“What was that for?”
His eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, but I was pretty sure they were sparkling. “Just wanted to make sure you remembered you're mine.”
I braced myself, waiting for my spine to stiffen with panic at his statement. It was reminiscent of what Jason had said to me, but the fear never came. I kissed him on the lips and rested my forehead on his.
“What about you? I wasn’t even ten steps away before you were hounded by your groupies.”
“Them? They are...nothing.”
My fingers itched to pull his glasses off. I wanted to see his eyes so I could tell whether he was telling the truth or not. “What did you say to them?” I asked.
I probably didn’t want to know, and I reminded myself what happened to the cat and its constant state of curiosity.
“I explained to them I was talking to my girlfriend but would give them an autograph if they came to see us sing this weekend. But I assured them that's all I’ll be doing.”
I framed his face with my hands before pulling him down for a soulful kiss. The embarrassment at my initial reaction was battling with the giddiness now consuming me.
“Now, get to class, Slick. I think you're already going to be late. I'll be here when you get out.” He kissed my nose before letting me go, and then smacked me on the ass as I moved away. “Hustle.”
I threw a saucy look over my shoulder–at least I hoped it was saucy-before running off to class. I tried to keep my face from splitting in two all day. Every time I wiped the smile away, it came creeping back, so I finally stopped fighting it long before class was over.
As soon as the professor released us, I ran out of the classroom, without a care. I'd never had the freedom to just enjoy a relationship before, and I planned to start now.
Kill reclined against the hood of his car. He pushed off when he saw me and started toward me. I ended up sprinting across the wide expanse of the campus. When I reached him I wrapped my legs around him and kissed the hell out of him not caring who watched.
“Miss me?” he asked when I finally released his lips.
“Yep.”
I tried to untangle my legs, but he grabbed at them, refusing to let me down. “Well, next time, I guess I'm going to have to give you a better goodbye kiss.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Kill carried me toward his car, Trent moved into my line of sight as Kill continued to walk. Trent seemed aware of my gaze, even though it was hidden behind my sunglasses. His whole body stiffened and he shook his head before stalking away.
I held onto the anger his disapproving look built inside of me. I’d always done the right thing by getting good grades, never being late for work, but Kill-this relationship—was going to be mine. Nobody was going to destroy this for me.Except for me, that is.
When we got home, Kill disappeared into the garage to work on a new song with the boys while I started my homework.
Later, I was in the kitchen making dinner when he came over and kissed the back of my neck, making me shiver at his touch. “Something smells good,” he said in my ear, licking the outer ridge.
“I’m making chicken alfredo.” My answer was breathless, and I found myself leaning into him.
“That’s not what I'm talking about.”
I was seconds away from becoming a puddle on the floor if he didn’t stop whispering in my ear and rubbing his hands over my belly under my shirt.
“Not on the food,” Jet screamed dramatically, snatching the food off the counter so we didn’t contaminate it with our display of affection.
