Page 69 of Starting Over with You
“But what exactly am I doing with him?”
“That’s a question only you can answer,” she says softly, and I love her for being so patient with me. She has always been the sounding board I needed when I knew Missy would just boss me around, the way big sisters do. “I will tell you this—you’re the only one who has gotten that guy arrested twice, and he kept coming back to you. I know during holidays he’d watch you, and if he had his way, he’d take out Stratfuck for you.” I swallow the sob in my throat as she continues. “And I know he loves your boys.”
“I know. He walked in when the boys called this morning, and it was all so normal. Like the four of us just chatting. I didn’t even do that with Stratford.”
She makes a gentle noise of agreement. “Interesting, huh?”
I groan loudly as I press my fingers into my eyes. “What am I doing, Sadie?”
“Living for you,” she says almost immediately. “That’s the great thing about this being your life, Kenni. You get to direct the narrative. Do you want Dean to be a part of your story?”
Her question steals the breath from my lungs because the answer is a bright neon sign in my mind. “He is a part of my story,” I admit quietly. “He always has been.”
“A side character,” she offers with a grin in her voice. “Why don’t you upgrade him to a main character?”
I can’t help the giggle that spills from my lips. “You sound entirely too excited about this.”
She is quiet for only a moment before she says, “Because for me, it’s a story I want to watch play out.”
Her admission hits me square in the heart. I breathe in through my nose and squeeze my eyes shut as the tears leak out. My story hasn’t been mine in nineteen years. It was Stratford’s, and then the boys’. And I love that my boys have been the stars of my story, but now they’re living their best life, and I have the chance at real happiness.
A happiness that could include Dean…
That’s a plot twist that could turn into one hell of a love story.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
Dean
I thought seeing Kenni in a pair of PJ shorts and a large tee when I came home this morning gave me the shivers, but nothing compares to the sight of her right now. She’s in a little white sundress that kisses the tops of her thighs, her hair is in wild curls along her shoulders with one hell of a megawatt smile on her lips while she dances to “Shivers” by Ed Sheeran, and I’m basically trembling.
She’s so fucking pretty.
The top of the dress is a white satin that hugs her breasts, cute little strips of lace holding up the top, while the skirt is made of satin and lace. I try to keep up, but I’m so enraptured by her and the way she keeps grinning up at me that I’m missing more steps than hitting them. Matt is doing way better than I am, but it doesn’t matter; I’m having a blast. Missy is between Sadie and Kenni, while Matt and I flank our girls.
Jesus, I gotta stop that.
Because no matter what happened this morning or how many little come-get-me grins Kenni sends me, she’s not mine.
Yet.
When the song ends, we’re all out of breath, and I know I’ll need an aspirin on the way home. Still, we’re all laughing as we head to the table where Nyle is. Apparently, he isn’t a dancer, but that doesn’t stop Missy from hitting the floor. The girls are all in little white dresses, their UT boots loud and proud as they giggle and make a ruckus only SI can. Matt leans into me, a bit buzzed as he waggles his brows. “Your sister is a fucking knockout.”
I snort, pushing him playfully. “Key wordsister, asshole.”
He laughs as we gather around the table, and of course, I stand near Kenni. She’s nursing a Fireball and cider. Her face is red from the dancing and the alcohol, and she looks like every wet dream I have ever had of her. I have to force myself to look away as I lean on my elbows, watching people on the floor. Matt has his arms around my sister, whispering something I sure as hell don’t want to know in her ear as Nyle does the same with Missy. I look over at Kenni as she draws little doodles in the condensation on her glass. I can’t help the way my lips curve. “Bored?”
She looks up to me, her eyes sparkling. “Not at all. Just breathing.”
“Breathing?”
She shrugs. “Yeah, enjoying the view.”
Her eyes move over my face, and fuck me, I want to puff out my chest for her. I want to flex. I want to take her in my arms and devour her. “So am I,” I say back, and she smiles. I reach for the rung of her barstool and pull her closer so that her ass hits one of my knees and her thigh hits the other. Her eyes widen and she gawks at me. “Excuse you!”
I flash her a sheepish grin. “I want a closer look.”
