Page 43 of Tainted Tempos

Fortunately, so is the rabid fascination of the public with our Vegas wedding. As a handful of photos from our time in the Azores circulate in magazines and on blogs, Mckenna and I become old news.

We’re no longer a new and thrilling, opposites-attract, unlikely relationship. Now, we’re a boring married couple living out our wedded bliss in an old brownstone in Boston. It doesn’t have the same appeal.

For that, I’m lucky. Because when we land in Boston, the paparazzi presence has cooled off, and Mckenna and I are free to resume parts of our ordinary lives.

Even the parts I don’t fucking like.

“I hate the thought of you seeing him at school,” I say over dinner the night before Mckenna’s semester starts.

“I know,” she sighs. “But I’ve worked too hard to let Bran win.”

Anger festers in my veins. I can’t wait to fucking bury Bran. My skin crawls at the thought of Mckenna having to navigate interactions with him for the next few months. My stomach feelsslick with nerves for her well-being. “Mckenna, I’m scared for you.” My words are half choked as I admit the truth.

Aren’t you supposed to do that in a marriage? Be honest with each other?

We promised to communicate, and I need Mckenna to know my fears, so I lay them out for her.

“What if he corners you?” I ask. “What if he realizes that you remember the truth from that night? What if he pushes you—both mentally and emotionally—even harder than he has in the past?”

She shakes her head. “I got this, Mav. I have a few classes with Emily and Robyn. Honestly, I feel much better this semester. I’m going into this with my eyes wide open. I feel stronger with you by my side.”

“Just, be alert, okay? Let me know if anything makes you uncomfortable. I need you to confide in me. I need us to talk about things.”

“Of course,” she agrees, taking a bite of her chicken and pasta. She chews thoughtfully before smiling at me. “Can you believe how different things are from the start of last semester?”

“You mean that we’re now married instead of roommates?”

Mckenna laughs, and the sound is carefree. Genuine. It cools some of my simmering anger about this shit with Bran. Man, I love the sound of her laugh. It’s the best music I’ve ever heard and that’s saying something.

“Exactly.” She grins. “It’s wild, isn’t it?”

“Ah, life with a rockstar.” I stretch back in my chair, holding my arms wide.

Mckenna tosses a balled-up napkin at me, and I swat it away before it can hit my face. “You’re still cocky.”

“You still like it,” I reply.

Mckenna blushes, and I grin.

“I do, but don’t be too cocky around my dad,” she advises.

“You worried about me meeting your father?”

Mckenna arches an eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me dads usually like you?”

“God no,” I laugh, wriggling my eyebrows back at her. “But moms do.”

Mckenna groans at my lame joke. I grin.

“So, tomorrow night?” I confirm the dinner plans.

“Yep, at Carter’s Steakhouse. I’ll meet you there since I have a late class.”

“I’ll be there,” I promise.

“Good. I’m actually excited to meet Jeannie. But I still like having you there as a buffer. It makes things easier.”

“Is your mom upset that we’re meeting your father for dinner?”

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