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“Hop on, love. I’ll give you a ride.” I glare at him from the corner of my eye.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why?”
“I don’t like it.” He shrugs.
“What would you rather me call you? My Queen?”
“Kiwi,” I groan, stopping again. “I’m tired and want to sleep before my shift.” I glance at my watch again. “Shit.” I won’t have time to get groceries.
“What?” I look at him but keep my mouth shut. I don’t have a car, so I usually walk or take the bus. Or sometimes one of the guys will let me borrow their car if I really need it.
I stare at him, my bottom lip between my teeth.
“Kens, babe. Hop on.”
If I accept this ride from him, he’s going to look too much into it and expect something from me. And owing Kiwi anything sounds like a literal nightmare. But beggars can’t be choosers, right?
“Fuck, you’re gonna wear a hole through your skull if you keep thinking that hard,” he laughs, and I roll my eyes.
“You got a helmet or something?” I ask, scanning his bike. He smiles and opens his saddlebag, pulling one out.
“Here you are, my Queen.”
“Fuck off,” I grumble as I grab and strap it on over my head.
“That’s a good look for you,” he says, and I flip him off before sliding on behind him. “Oh, I like this.” He wiggles around, pressing his back and ass against me.
“Fuck off, Kiwi.” I jab my fist into his stomach, and he grunts out a breath, then laughs.
“Keep doing shit like that and I’m gonna fall in love with you.”
Kiwi
Istep into the apartment behind Kennedy. It’s small, and the place from the outside is a fucking dump, but inside, she’s made it homey. Everything is spotless and even though most of her décor is as dark and terrifying as her, it doesn’t feel small or closed in.
I like it.
I could get comfy here.
“Kitchen’s that way.” She waves her hand to the right and slides her leather jacket off, exposing her tattooed arms and back. Her black tank top is thin and shows every bit of ink she has on her body—which is a fuckton. “Bathroom is in the back. Ignore the dirty clothes. Ian never cleans up after himself, so I have no fucking clue what kind of mess he’s left.”
Ian.
My blood heats as I look around the place again. I didn’t know she was with anyone, let alone a guy named fucking Ian. Really? Ian? With a girl like Kennedy? Absolutely not. He sounds like a bitch.
“I’m home!” she calls as she steps around me to lock the door, giving me an irritated look. I move to the center of the room and step my feet apart, crossing my arms over my chest as I glare at the hallway, waiting for this Ian prick to show himself.
I already decided I like Kennedy. I decided I want her. I decided she’s mine.
I’m ready to claim her in front of everyone. All I have to do is convince her she likes me, then boom—I can hear the wedding bells already.
A little black pug trots into the room before a tall, lanky kid with barely-there stubble saunters in. He pauses when he sees me, our eyes locking. He’s young, way too young for her. And could she have chosen a guy who looks more like her? They could be twins.
He has black hair and pale skin, like her, but his eyes aren’t hazel. Instead, his are blue, but one is half brown, half blue.
That’s the only fucking cool thing about the little prick.
