Page 2 of Starting Over with You
My jaw ticks. “What the fuck did you say?”
The guy laughs, tipping his chin to her. “Told her to cover her fat ass up.”
My body catches fire with rage. This isn’t the first time someone has said that to Kenni, and it really pisses me off when they do. Yeah, she’s thick, but that doesn’t define her. She’s gorgeous inside and out. She’s fucking batshit, but she’s one of the best people I know.
“Move so I can teach this cow a lesson.” He sways toward me again, and I push him back.
“Don’t talk to her like that,” I demand, pushing my chest into his. “And then you can go fuck yourself,” I say as I reach back to make sure that Kenni is there.
My hand connects with her full hip, and I exhale as I nod.Good girl.I watch his movements, ready to push her farther back to kick his ass, but before anyone can do anything, the space fills with red and blue lights and some idiot screaming, “Sooooooooooieeeeeeeeee!”
Then it’s pure pandemonium.
Everyone is moving, hollering, and the cops are yelling something, but my main concern is Kenni. I turn quickly, pulling her to me as people start to scramble. Her body presses flush to mine as I place my palm in the middle of her shoulders to keep her near me. Knowing her, she’ll take off, and I can’t lose her. I’m looking for Sadie and Missy when Kenni takes my hand in hers. Her skin is so soft, while my hands are rough with calluses from playing hockey. Her blue eyes lock on mine, and she flashes me a grin that means nothing but trouble. “We gotta run!”
“What? No. We need to find Sadie and Missy.”
“They already ran. We gotta go!”
Before I can even comprehend what she’s saying, she’s yanking me with her. I hold on to her as we haul ass through the tall grass and into the corn field that I hadn’t even noticed. With the hand that isn’t holding hers, I hold on to my trusty black cowboy hat to keep it from leaving my head. It was my granddad’s, and there is no way I’m losing it. My grandma gave it to me when he passed. The leaves on the corn stalks smack into us as we run like our asses are on fire. When I realize we’re running away from my truck, I curse loudly.
“Kenni, my truck is that way!”
She’s still running, my hand tightly in hers. If we weren’t running from the cops and I weren’t concerned that her dad, who is the sheriff in our small town, was going to kill me if we got caught, I could enjoy her hand in mine and the jiggle of her ass as she runs. Instead, I’m sweating bullets.
We can’t get caught.
Kenni’s ponytail whips behind her as she turns to look at me with a blinding grin that is so full of excitement, it leaves me breathless. “Missy’s car is on the other side of this field. We’ll get it and wait till everyone clears out to go get your truck.”
I feel a little better until we reach the end of the field, and Missy’s car isn’t there. I let out another curse as Kenni looks up at me with an apologetic smile. “I think they got here first.”
“Fuck,” I exclaim as I look around to figure out where to go. I pull out my phone to call them when a spotlight shines right on us.
“Put your hands up! You run, I’ll tase your asses.”
Once more, I curse under my breath as my shoulders drop. The cop means business, the authority is all in his voice, but when I look at Kenni while I raise my arms, instead of seeing fear, I see she’s grinning. “We can outrun him.”
I gawk at her and wait for her to raise her hands. “Kenni, put your hands up. I’m not getting tased. Thatshit hurts.”
She shrugs like it’s no damn big deal. “I’m telling you, we can get away.”
“Don’t think about it, sweetheart,” the cop calls out, his equipment jangling as he closes the distance to us. He’s holding his Taser out toward us, and I give Kenni a pointed look.
“Put your hands up.” She waves me off, and I moan more to myself than anything. “Your daddy is going to kill me.”
Kenni rolls her eyes. “He won’t even find out.”
“Kenleigh Colburn, is that you?”
Fuck. My. Life.
Kenni grimaces as she looks back at me with a gleam in her big blues. I swear if she weren’t the girl of my dreams, I’d throttle her. She flutters her lashes before giving the cop her best church-girl pose. She positions her arms in front of her body, making a steeple with her hands before angling her head to the side all shyly. With her voice sweet as sugar, she says, “It is. You must know my daddy.”
“I sure do, honey,” he says, shaking his head as he stops before us. He’s an older guy, gray hair in his beard, and he’s a bit overweight, but his eyes tell me he’s sharp. “Please don’t tell me you were out at that party and running from the cops?”
Kenni covers her chest with her hands, feigning innocence. “Me? Never. I was taking a stroll with my guy here.”
She flutters her lashes once more, and I can’t even enjoy the fact that she called me her guy. Instead, I just gawk at her. She thought that was the lie to go with? She’s not dressed for a stroll. No, she’s dressed for a damn twerk-out frat party.
