AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My heart gets tight in my chest, but I say nothing.
She motions to the bed. “Room for one more?”
“Yeah.”
I scoot over. Pearl slides into bed with me and puts her arm around my middle.
“It’s us against the world, darling,” she murmurs.
She smells like wax and coconut oil. I feel suddenly exhausted, like I’ve just come back from the trenches of war. I pass out in her arms, against the rise and fall of her chest.
11
Donovan
Kenzi is gone for a total of four days, three nights, and six hours.
But who’s counting?
I’m standing at the tip of the finger pier when Sweet Serenity makes her slow turn into the neck of the marina.
The boat purrs around into the slip, Terry at the helm. Kenzi is stretched out on the bow like a cat, sitting on a towel, headphones hanging around her neck. Her legs are incredibly long underneath her cut-off jeans, and she has her shirt tied in a knot underneath her breasts, exposing her soft belly. Her oversized sunglasses turn my way, and she smiles.
She’s such a sight for sore eyes, it makes me ache.
The boat pulls into the slip. She comes to the side, and I toss her a rope.
“Missed me?” she asks.
“You wish.”
The engine hasn’t even cut, but she jumps from the boat to the pier, and we take off down the dock.
Smoke fills my lungs and fills my skull.
I close my eyes and drop my head against the wall.
I feel hazy, quiet, relaxed. All my tense, tight muscles gain some slack.
Someone’s laundry tumbles and thumps in the machine beside mine. The laundry room smells like Clorox, handfuls of earth, and weed. People so rarely come in here, Kenzi and I have claimed this spot for our intermediate smoke breaks.
“Maybe we might’ve judged Jason too harshly,” Kenzi says suddenly.
I open my eyes just enough to narrow them at her. “What?”
She shrugs. She’s twisting the joint between her fingers, examining the glowing cherry. “I’m just saying…maybe he’s not the complete dick we thought he was.”
“So he’s just a small dick. That’s what you’re saying?”
The edges of Kenzi’s mouth twist in a grimace. She looks away.
My throat, already smoke-swollen, fills with acid.
“Jesus Christ,” I say. “You fell for it. His charm.”
“I did not.” She looks at me now. Those sea-glass-green eyes look equal parts angered and hurt.
The mood is broken. There’s a tension in the toxic air between us.
