Page 64 of Waiting for Her

She sticks out her bottom lip. “Boo. You’re no fun.”

Drew stands up, setting his half-full bottle down on the table. “I’m uh, gonna head out,” he says, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. He walks around the table, grips my shoulder. “I’ll talk to you in the morning,” he says, before adding, “Good luck with, uh, everything.”

Kennedy wiggles her fingers in Drew’s direction and settles into a chair beside me.

“What’s going on? You got a date?” I ask her, hoping she says yes.

Her eyebrows furrow and she gives me a strange look. “No, silly. Why would I have a date?”

I want to say because it’s a Friday night. Or because you’re dressed like you’re going on a date—or to dance against a pole. But I keep my mouth shut.

“I’m here to see you,” she flirts.

Since when does she flirt? With me, I mean. Yeah, she did in the beginning, but once I explained we would only ever be just friends, she went back to treating me like normal. For the most part.

Her recent behavior has me rethinking every encounter we’ve had over the past few years.

“Kennedy…”

She looks at me from under her lashes. “I heard what Drew said, Grady.”

I swallow hard. Shit. I don’t like the way she’s looking at me, or the way she’s talking right now. “About?”

“Being in love,” she whispers. She stands up slowly, steps between my legs and before I know what’s happening, she’s straddling my lap, her arms wrapped around my neck.

“Kennedy… I think you—”

“Shh.” She places a finger on my lips. “It’s okay. I’m in love with you, too. And just becauseshe’sback around, it doesn’t mean anything. We can still finally be together, the way it was always meant to be.”

I’m stunned silent, my mouth hanging open, and she takes it as her cue to press her lips to mine, her tongue immediately begging for entry.

Bri

There’s my answer. He’s with Kennedy. I wondered, though, having him kiss me in his office caused hopeful doubt to rise. But seeing her right now, straddling his lap, her lips pressed against his as her hands are wrapped around his neck… it’s obvious.

I turn away from the window quickly.

The window I was unfortunately staring out of, like a creepy weirdo.

“I’m going to pack a bag,” I tell my mom.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I think I’d like to come home for the weekend. Since I got here, I’ve done nothing but work, and I need a break. The boys, are they going to be home? We can have them come home, right? Maybe do a little family weekend thing? I miss everyone. It’s been too long—and Andy, well, I’d like to see him. See what work you guys have been doing on the house. Maybe have dinner at Balance. I haven’t even seen inside of Dreamin’ Beans since you repainted. It’s been too long.”

“You already said that,” Mom says.

“Huh?”

“You’re rambling and repeating yourself. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” My reply is too quick. Too sharp and high-pitched. She scrunches her nose up and looks at Hazel, whose look is mimicking our mother’s, right down to the nose and arms crossed over her chest. She’s so much like our mom. She even tries to sneak cups of coffee if she can.

“Sharing is caring, you know.”

“I need, um, a break. From here,” I end on a whisper. Mom nods her head and looks to the window. She can’t see anything, from where she’s standing, but she’s a smart woman. She can put two and two together.

“You know you’re always welcome back home. You don’t even have to ask. But, don’t run. Not again. Figure it out and don’t jump to conclusions.”

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