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“It’s that easy? You can forgive and forget what we’ve been through? WhatIput us through?” Her smile fades. “Are you sure?”
“Forgive? Sweetheart, there’s nothing to forgive. You did what you thought you had to do to protect me. Your actions were misguided, yes, but your heart was in the right place. And as for forgetting what we’ve been through—I’ll never forget what it was like to live even a single day without you.” To soften the words, I lean down and kiss her. I spoke the truth, because she deserves the truth. We both do. “Our future starts now. We get a do-over, a second chance. Not everyone is so lucky.”
She leans up and kisses me. “I don’t deserve you, but thank you. So, yes, it’s official. We’re back together. And if you live to regret it—if your father’s family shuns us—you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”
I smile. “Don’t worry. They won’t do that.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I now control the lion’s share of the money. Theyneedme.”
Kennedy laughs, and the sound is music to my ears. Just as I’m about to kiss her to seal the deal, the intercom buzzes. Sighing, I press my forehead against hers. “Why are there so many interruptions here?”
“That’ll be the pizza delivery driver,” she says, nudging me off her so she can get up. “I have to buzz him in.”
“Can’t he wait a few minutes?” I’m seriously regretting ordering pizza. Why couldn’t it have taken an extra ten minutes to arrive?
She smiles. “Our pizza will get cold.” Seconds tick by as we gaze into each other’s eyes, neither of us seeming to want to move. I lower my mouth, about to claim her lips, when there’s a loud knock on her door.
Kennedy bites her bottom lip. “I guess someone buzzed him in.”
“I’ll get it.” I shoot to my feet and head to the door, open it, grab the pizza, and close the door.
Kennedy appears behind me. “Did you tip him?”
“No. Why should I?”
Her eyes widen. “Why?Because we tip here. When in Rome, you know. I always tip the pizza guy.”
“He cockblocked me,” I say as I set the pizza on the table.
Kennedy rolls her eyes. “We need to tip him.”
“Fine.” I pull a twenty out of my wallet, rush out the door, and catch the bloke on the stairs. “Here you go, mate.”
The kid’s eyes widen as he glances at the note and then pockets the money. “Thanks, man.”
When I return to Kennedy’s apartment, she has the table set with plates. “What would you like to drink?” she asks as she opens the fridge door.
I stand behind her and peer over her shoulder. “What have you got?”
“Still water, sparkling, Coke, orange juice—”
“What, no beer?”
She laughs. “Sorry, no.”
“A Coke, then.” I pull a slice of pizza from the box and take a bite. As annoyed as I am with the delivery driver’s bad timing, I have to admit this is seriously good pizza. I groan loudly in appreciation as I chew.
“Good?” she asks.
I nod as I take another bite. “I forgive the driver.”
Kennedy brings our drinks to the table, and we sit.
Now that we’re eating, I decide to broach a more serious and pressing matter—Kennedy’s block of flats. “Tell me about your landlord.”
Chewing, Kennedy shakes her head. After she swallows, she says, “Can’t we talk about something else? Something happy? I can’t bear to think of losing this place.”
