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He shrugs and a small laugh bubbles out of him. “Parts of it. She isn't exactly the quietest person we know.”
The look on Kennedy's face when she realized I’d been lying to her is one that's going to stay burned into my mind forever. Just like everything else I've done wrong. And the way she screamed at me earlier? Yeah, I more than deserved it.
“You want to talk about it?” Z asks.
Taking a deep breath, I exhale slowly. “I've been hanging out with Tess behind her back. She found out.”
His brows raise. “E!”
“I know, I know. I don't need the lecture,” I tell him honestly. “I fucked up.”
“Fucked up is a massive understatement.” He pauses and runs his fingers through his hair. “Shit, Amelia might kill you anyway.”
I hop down from the counter and throw my empty can into the recycling bin. “Say something nice at my funeral?”
He chuckles. “Leave me your record collection, and I'll do my best.”
“Deal.”
I start making my way back to my room, but just before I leave the kitchen, Zayn stops me.
“E,” he calls. I turn around to look back at him. “Kennedy doesn't deserve that shit.”
Nodding slowly, I rub the back of my neck. “I know. I'm going to fix it.”
“I hope you can.”
As I climb back into bed a few moments later and see my girlfriend sleeping soundly beside me, I let my head sink into the pillow and drape an arm over top of her.
“Me too.”
TENSE. THAT'S THE ONLY way to describe things between Kennedy and me. While Amelia is around, she acts like everything is fine, but I can tell. It's the way she leaves a couple inches of space between us on the couch. The way her whole body stiffens when my phone gets a text message. The way she looks at me when we have to be away from each other. It's almost as if she's terrified of what I’ll do next.
I hold the bouquet of pink roses tightly in my hand as I walk up the steps. As I sat through my eighty-minute lecture this morning, all I could think about was how I could make this up to her. Flowers may not solve everything, but they're at least a start.
Opening the door, Kennedy is standing in the kitchen with Zayn and Amelia. My sister glances back at me, and when she sees the present for Kennedy, her face lights up.
“Oh my God,” she coos. “You can be a sweetheart after all.”
I chuckle and roll my eyes as I ignore her and head for my girl. “You told me once that pink roses are your favorite.”
She smiles as she takes them from me, but I can tell it's a forced one. “They are. Thank you.”
Arching on her tiptoes, she kisses my cheek and then lets me wrap her in my arms while her head rests on my chest. It's a show. All of it. And it's all for Amelia's sake. She doesn't want her to know, and that's mostly for my sake. She said that she doesn't want my sister to hate me, and fuck, that broke me. How can she still be thinking of me and my reputation, when I hurt her so badly?
She's a goddess, that's how.
“Zayn never buys me flowers,” Amelia says with a pout.
Z snorts. “Because the one time I did, you kept them three weeks after they were dead because you didn't want to hurt my feelings by throwing them away.”
“It wasn't that long.”
“They attracted bugs, babe.”
Kennedy and I laugh at their banter, but I'm mostly relishing in the way I'm allowed to hold her close while they're around. I know the second they walk out the door, she's going to pull away from me again—roses or no roses.
“Oh, whatever,” Amelia groans. “Come on. I want to get lunch before class.”
