Page 4 of Starting Over with You
Through gritted teeth, I ask, “What are you doing, Kenni?”
“I’m just wondering,” she says, her voice low. “I always think about it and wonder if it’d be as good as the first time if it happened again.”
My heart is jackhammering in my chest as I draw in air through my nose to fill my lungs. When I look back over at her, I see her top teeth are buried deep in her bottom lip, and she’s watching me with need in her sweet eyes. I’m lost in them, the flashing lights making the whole moment seem so much bigger.
Her eyes don’t leave mine, and I have to fight a moan when she asks, “Are you gonna kiss me or what?”
Fuck.
My heart is in my throat, and my cock is doing its best to burst through the zipper of my Levi’s.
With a smirk I haven’t ever unleashed on her, I give in to every single desire I have, even though I know that makes me an idiot. We’re both leaving, but maybe I can have this.
“Give me those lips, darlin’. Let me taste you.”
Her eyes widen just as the most stunning grin slides over her face. I don’t know who moves first, but I’m leaning toward her, ready to take her gorgeous mouth with mine to show her I’m a way better kisser now, when the door flies open and the cop yanks me out by my shirt.
He slams me into the side of the car, and one look in his eyes lets me know I’m in deep shit.
Her daddy is going to kill me, and then my dad will kill me again.
I look over my shoulder at her to see her watching me, tears in her sweet eyes, and I wish I had moved quicker.
I never got to kiss her after that night. We were both grounded, and I left for college a month before she did.
Then she got knocked up and married some guy her freshman year.
Talk about a hit to the gut.
I don’t know if she still thought of me after that night, but fuck, I’ve thought of her.
How could I ever forget the night I fell in love with Kenni Colburn in the back of a cop car?
CHAPTER
ONE
Kenni
I want to say I’m only proud of my boys, who are walking across the stage, receiving their diplomas, but I’d be lying.
Truth is, I’m proud of myself too.
They made it.
And now, it’s my turn.
My car is packed.
The papers are drawn up.
I’m leaving my husband.
I’m choosing me.
I raised my sons to be respectable, kind young men. Both graduated in the top twenty of their class. Both have full-ride scholarships to Quinnipiac University, not only for their incredible hockey abilities but for their stellar grades. I have always been the best mother I could be, even if I was growing up with them. And during it all, I was the perfect wife.
But for the last six years, I’ve focused solely on the boys. I used everything they needed as a distraction. I didn’t complain onceabout the endless weekends at different travel hockey tournaments. The long hours, the sore ass, and shitty food—no, I lived for it because it made my boys happy. It gave them a chance to make their dreams come true.
