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I wanthim, and he’s never felt more out of reach.
Jonathan leans over. He whispers, but there’s malice in his tone. “Stop pining for him, stray. It’s pathetic.”
Fire ignites inside me and I glower at him with all the hatred I’m currently feeling. “Fuck off, Jonathan. Mind your own business.”
My anger doesn’t bother him. He smirks like he enjoys it. “My familyismy business. You’re the outsider here, not me.”
I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest and fixing my glare on the TV.
I hate himsomuch.
But, like with his father just a moment ago in the kitchen, I think what I hate the most is that he’s right.
Chapter thirteen
Milo
The couch is fucking cold tonight.
Maybe it’s because I can’t stop picturing Kennedy snuggled up in the warmth of my bed. I hate passing up an opportunity to sleep with her as much as she does, but there was no way we could get away with it tonight. Not with Jonathan here.
Generally, Jonathan is preoccupied with his own life and doesn’t butt into mine, but he’s taken a special interest in making sure I’m not fucking his little brother’s girlfriend.
Which I suppose is fair.
If I had Kennedy’s goddamn phone number, this would all be a lot easier. I’m not looking for an excuse to push her away like she accused me of earlier tonight. If anything, I’m holding on when the decent thing is probably to let her go.
I don’t know how we can have any kind of future together in real life, and I don’t want to further damage her.
I still have every intention of fucking her, and the uncertainty of our future won’t stop me any more than my son’s potential interest in her, I just have to figure out how to navigate this situation with those obstacles in the way. They aren’t small obstacles, and I don’t want either of them to get hurt.
Jet is sensitive and hasn’t even expressed much interest in girls before her.
Kennedy is resilient as hell, but her life up to this point has made it hard for her to trust anybody, and if she continues to invest in people who end up disappointing her, eventually, she’ll stop trusting anyone at all. Her heart is fragile, too. She’s never given it to anybody before, and if I’m the first and I fuck her over, it’ll be a hard thing for a girl like her to get past.
I don’t want to fuck up her chances at future happiness.
Hell, I’d like to believe there exists a reality where I can bepartof her future happiness, she just needs to relax a little and give me some time to find it.
I’m worried her self-protective instincts are going to fuck us over in the days to come. She won’t realize she’s self-sabotaging; she’ll think she’s protecting her heart from a potential break, pushing me away before I can do it to her.
Tonight, she showed signs of already losing trust in me just because I didn’t flirt with her enough while we watched the movie. If she’s being that hyper-vigilant about looking for trouble, she’ll find it. She’ll see distance where there isn’t any, and she’ll concoct issue after issue to obsess over until she’s convinced herself the only thing she can do to protect herself is shut off from me.
She hasn’t had successful outcomes from trusting people before, so I know she won’t give me much leeway in that regard. The second the thread of her trust starts to slip through my fingers, it’s on the fast track to being gone.
And that’s already started.
I don’t know how to hold on to her while also moving at the speed I need to move at. I’m older and far more secure than she is; I don’t need to rush. I can take my time and still know I’m going to get where I want to be.
I believe she’ll get there, especially with my guidance, but maybe not if she cuts me off. If that happens, I’ll have no control over where she ends up.
I’m lying on the couch thinking of all the ways her future could so easily go off course when I hear a noise that sounds distinctly like the stairs creaking.
My heart thuds with anticipation. I sit up, knowing—maybe hoping—as I do that it’s going to be her.
And then I see her in her skimpy little nightclothes, stepping softly so as not to wake anyone as she enters the kitchen.
The sight of her brings a smile to my face. Her long hair is loose, the curls springy and wild. The refrigerator door opens and I wish I could see her bending over to grab a drink.
