Page 45 of Keeping Kasey
“Look,” I start. “About what happened the other day—”
Kasey lifts a hand and regards me with a grimace. “Yeah, no. I’m not interested in hearing yourfeelings. Just forget about it.”
“Screw feelings, but I do want to talk.”
She opens the fridge, grabs a water bottle, and walks out of the kitchen.
“No thanks,” she calls out as she goes.
I don’t follow immediately because I’m too busy figuring out what the hell is wrong with this woman. Sure, I haven’t exactly been out to woo her, but even when I try to make peace, she finds something to fight me on.
What am I doing?
It’s never taken more than flashing a smile to get laid, so why am I working so hard just to have Kasey?
The effort suddenly feels like a ridiculous waste of my time.
I’ll go out with James and Matteo to find an easy, agreeable girl to fill that role. It won’t be difficult, and she’ll be more tolerable than the terror currently under my roof.
Going out will be good for me. Time with James and Matteo will ground me and remind me that there are people who will give me the respect I deserve.
The way it should be.
The sound of Kasey’s bedroom door slamming shut snaps me back to reality.
I don’t want some easy, agreeable nobody.
For reasons I cannot fathom, I want the hot-headed, manipulative, psychopathic beauty upstairs.
I don’t remember ascending the stairs, but when I find myself at her door, I throw it open.
Kasey is facing away from me, digging through her dresser, and I faintly acknowledge the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. My aggressive entrance doesn’t provoke the slightest jump, flinch, or tension from her.
But me? I’m frozen.
Kasey’s hoodie lies in a pile on the floor, revealing the flawless skin of her back, covered only by a thin sports bra thatmatches her shorts—if you can even call them that. She’s taken out whatever bound her hair, so it falls over her shoulders and down her back.
Slowly, like a scene from a movie I’d happily watch for the rest of my life, Kasey turns around. My eyes go straight to her collarbone, where the shadows of my hickeys linger.
Seeing my marks on her skin makes me regret every second of this power struggle that kept me from her.
I swallow hard. "Not going to cover up?"
I don’t get the smug grin or eye roll I’ve come to expect.
Kasey’s features are schooled into a perfectly neutral expression. “You barged intomyroom while I was changing. You have no shame, so neither will I.”
“You left the door unlocked,” I counter, fully aware that my argument is a weak one.
“Don’t act like you wouldn’t have kicked it down.”
“I told you that we need to talk.”
Laughing, yelling, turning away, flipping me off. These are all things that would’ve made sense for her to do at this moment, but Kasey surprises me.
“I think we’ve done enough talking, don’t you?” she asks and glides to the bathroom.
She leaves the door wide open.
