Page 23 of Wrecked
"I'm taking ya home."
Kenzie tried to pull away from me but ended up stumbling forward; I caught her with my other arm and pulled her to my chest. I had to take a steadying breath; I wasn't prepared for how good it would feel to hold her again. But that wasn't the place nor the time to be reveling in the feel of all her softness pressed against me. Her head lolled back, and a lazy smile spread across her face. "Oh! Hi, Brett." She accentuated the last letters of my name and then giggled to herself. Man, she was so freaking out of it.
"Can you walk?"
She didn't answer me. Instead, she curled her fingers around my biceps and squeezed. "Have you been working out?" The question slurred from her lips. "Your muscles are so huge and so hard." Another giggle fit erupted from her. I turned my attention to the ceiling, and after I let out a long, slow breath, I bent down and hauled Kenzie into my arms.
"She only had like three cocktails." Lizzy mused.
Kenzie mumbled something and snuggled into my neck. Big, loud warning bells rang in my ears.This is a stupid idea.I locked eyes with my friend and found the same concern etched on his face.
Cocking his head to the side, Logan asked, "You good?"
"Yeah." A lie, of course. Hiking Kenzie higher in my arms, I headed for the exit.
I caught sight of Lola watching us as I walked out of Joe's with my friends close behind me. A string of curses fell from my lips, but to my surprise, no one uttered a word. My emotions were all over the place as we put her in my truck and I headed toward my cabin. The anger that'd wrapped itself around my heart for so many years slowly made way for… I didn't even know what. All I knew was something in me was softening, and when I looked at Kenzie curled up on my passenger seat, everything in me screamed to protect her.
Slowing the truck to a roll, I eased into my parking spot when we reached the cabin. I'd barely stopped before I jumped out and hurried around the truck. I didn't think it was possible, but Kenzie looked even paler than when we'd left Joe's a few minutes ago.
She moaned when I lifted her out of the truck and walked to the door. It was only when the moans became more urgent that I realized she was going to be sick. Unfortunately, by then it was too late.
Before we'd even made it into the house, Kenzie's stomach had rid itself of its contents. I looked at her shirt and then at mine and let out a groan. That she threw up on me didn't bother me half as much as needing to clean her up did.
Removing her clothes was the last thing on my mind—okay, that's a lie, but when I'd imagined it, it was under very different circumstances. I pushed through the door and with Kenzie still in my arms; headed straight to my bathroom.
I dropped the toilet seat and lowered Kenzie onto it. "Can you sit, sweetheart?" She mumbled incoherently but attempted to stay seated. Tapping her cheek gently, I waited until she opened her eyes. They were so glazed over; I doubted she'd even hear me. "I'll be right back, okay?"
As I moved to my bedroom, I pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it on the floor. I grabbed the first clean tee I could find and rushed back to the bathroom. Kenzie was still sitting on the closed toilet seat, her head resting on the tank.
While I waited for the water to get warm, memories of another time Kenzie and I were in this exact same situation tried to break free. I purposefully pushed them back; I didn't want to remember. I lathered up the cloth and then froze.
I had to undress her.
Panic danced its way down my spine. I didn't think of myself as a pervert, but I also knew how this woman affected me when she was still fully clothed. I drew strength from somewhere and focused on the task at hand.
With the hem of her shirt gripped between my fingers, I lifted the fabric up and over her head and immediately swallowed hard. I shifted her so the tank could support her back. My fingers trembled as I swiped the cloth over her chest.
I dropped to my haunches and slipped the brown leather from her feet then I proceeded to drag her jeans down her body. Now, as much as I would have liked to say that I didn't even peek at the half-naked woman sitting in my bathroom, I couldn't.
All of that creamy skin on display had me wishing she was sober just so I could taste her lips and love on her body until she was drunk from ecstasy. I let out an audible groan at the direction my thoughts were taking. I felt so conflicted. Just a few hours ago I was so mad at this woman that my vision had turned red, and now all I could think about was having her.
Maybe Kenzie wasn't the only intoxicated one?
When she was as clean as I was going to get her, I pulled my shirt over her head and gathered her up in my arms. It was only when I placed her on my bed that I noticed the butterfly tattoo on her outer thigh. She must've had it done after we broke up. I sank onto the mattress beside her to closer inspect the art.
My breath left my body in a big whoosh.
A blue butterfly with wings sprawled sat proudly on her skin. But it was the pointed edges of the wings that caused my breath to hitch. Each pointed edge curled and swirled out; one forming aKand the other aB.
When Kenzie and I had still been together, I'd drawn that butterfly for her. It wasmydesign sitting on her skin, permanently branding her.
I brought my hand up and brushed my fingers over the K sitting on my chest, my heart hiccupped. As desperately as I needed air, my lungs refused to work. How the hell was it possible that after all these years, I still ached so badly?
The ink on her skin was so delicate and so beautiful—just like her—I simply had to touch. My fingers glided over the design, and when the memories begged to be set free, I closed my eyes and gave in.
"Brett, I think I'm drunk."
Kenzie swayed and tightened her hold on my arm. I pulled free and just as she began to protest, I scooped her up. "Yeah, Sweetheart, you are." She'd been doing shots with her friend, Zoe, all night and I knew they'd catch up with her at some point.
