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“See you later.”
We’d reached a turning point, and we both knew it.
I grabbed Kacey’s keys, then looked at Ashton. “Can you take her home? I have some last-minute things to do before tonight.”
He looked at me like he was looking at me for the first time. In a way, I guessed he was. “Yeah. Sure.”
“Thanks.”
“Ken,” Hendrix called after me as I walked away.
I looked over my shoulder at him.
He grinned. “You might be leaving, but that doesn’t mean I’m done with you.”
KENNEDY
He kissed me.
I felt the pressure of his mouth on mine the entire drive back to The Boat House.
Things with Hendrix had always been easy. We’d always been comfortable. He’d bought me tampons, for fuck’s sake. I’d fallen asleep on his chest watching chick flicks and drooled all over him. We didn’t fight, and when we did, he made sure it didn’t last long. Before this, our biggest fight was when he told me to take the job with Del Monte. That was when he’d accused me of being afraid of commitment. I’d told him not everyone needed a corner office to feel accomplished—a dig at his job as a financial advisor. He’d told me I could do better, and I’d told him I didn’t need a lecture on commitment from a guy who couldn’t remember the name of the last girl he fucked. He left mad, then showed up at my house three hours later, wearing a black hoodie with joggers and the trademark grin that made his eyes shine.
“I came to lay in bed with your head on my chest while I rub your hair and watch Sweet Home Alabama.”
He couldn’t be any more perfect if he tried.
“But I was an asshole to you earlier.”
“Yes. You were. That’s why I brought these.” He held up a bottle of Motrin in one hand and a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream in the other.
This was hands down much better than my plan of devouring an entire box of Little Debbie cakes while listening to Taylor Swift on Spotify.
“I’m not PMS-ing. I was just having a bad day.”
“In that case, fuck these.” He tossed the bottle of Motrin over his shoulder and winked. They landed in my flowerbed with a loud rattle. “But we still have this.” He held up the ice cream.
What kind of girl says no to a hot guy and ice cream? Not this girl.
I wanted that back.
I wanted him back.
Even if that meant leaving the life I’d built behind.
He was worth it.
HENDRIX
Six o’clock. Right on time.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been counting the minutes to this rehearsal since the second Kennedy left.
I kissed her.
And it wasn’t some eighteen-year-old drunken bullshit.
It was fuckingeverything. If she hadn’t left, I would’ve fucked her right there in the sand. Fuck an audience.
