Page 15 of Waiting Forever
“Sorry I freaked out.” I try for a smile. “It happens sometimes, but I’m fine now. Really. Nothing to worry about.”
A car drives down one of the aisles. Nathan ushers me to the side, near the parked cars.
It’s nothing I’m not used to from him. He’s always been protective, in a brotherly or cousinly way.
“You don’t have to be so tough, you know?” he says, watching me.
“I’m not. I’m being a responsible adult.”
“Pfft. You’re barely an adult.”
That has me pushing back my shoulders. “Next month, I’ll be a legal adult in all ways,” I remind him. “I intend on celebrating with a drink, or two.”
I don’t know why I say that except to prove myself to him. It’s my new thing when he’s around. Or maybe it’s always been my thing.
I have no plans for my birthday, no friends to invite over for a glass of champagne. For all I know, I’ll be alone in my room. I’m sure Mom and Dad will FaceTime from London. I’m already legal there, have been since I turned sixteen. My first legal drink was in the UK. Mom and I were at a pub. She ordered a glass of wine and I ordered a beer just to see how she’d react.
She’d laughed and said,“Why not. I was able to drink legally at your age. Besides, I’d rather you have your first drink with me than on your own or with friends.”
Dad would have had a fit, but Mom is more lenient. I miss her.
“You don’t have to keep reminding me when your birthday is. I memorized it years ago, and if you want to do something special, I’d be happy to celebrate with you.”
His offer seems sincere, but Nathan is a good guy in that way. He cares. “I don’t want to put you out. You probably have plans already. And I wouldn’t want to piss off your girlfriend.” Why did I throw that out? Because I want to know if he has one. I want to be prepared.
“I promised your mom and dad I’d take good care of you. I promised my dad, too. That includes entertainment.” He flashes me one of his stunning smiles.
I can’t help but smile in return. I also don’t miss his lack of response to my girlfriend comment. “You’re sweet, Nathan, but I have no intentions of being a third wheel in your life. That’s not why I’m here.” I glance to the right and left of the parking garage. “Which way to the car?”
He studies me for a moment, like he’s trying to figure out this new version of me. “It’s a Hummer and it’s this way.” He rolls the suitcase to the right, the flower design funny with him pulling the luggage.
I stroll behind, unable to keep my gaze off his ass in his jeans. Nathan has always been built, from years of playing football. I thought for sure he’d go pro, but my dad said,“No way. Nathan loves to play, in more ways than one, but his nature is to protect. He’s like his father in that way and will likely follow in his footsteps.”
That’s why Mom suggested I move in with Nathan. Dad wouldn’t trust anyone else to watch over me—not that I need watching over—or to keep their hands off his daughter. If for one second my parents thought I was attracted to Nathan and liked him in more than a friendly way, they never would have let me live with him. Now that I’m here, I’m second-guessing this arrangement.
7
Nathan
I PULL OFF the highway, following the Winter Park exit. “Are you hungry? I can stop somewhere if you want. Lots of places to get food around here.”
Kensington stops running her fingers through her glossy burgundy strands. For the last fifteen minutes, she’s been doing it while staring out the window. I’d kill to know what she’s thinking.
She glances around as if just noticing we’re no longer on the interstate. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever is on the way. I plan to take an Uber to get some groceries later. I don’t want to be a mooch.”
“Mooch?” I laugh. “Come on, Kensi. The last thing you are is a mooch. But hitting the grocery store is probably a good idea if you want more than sandwiches, leftover takeout, and beer. I’ll take you when you’re ready. No need to get an Uber.”
I hit my blinker and turn left into McDonalds. Let’s see if I remember what she likes. “Should I order your usual? Chicken McNuggets, small fry, and extra sweet-and-sour sauce?”
She gives me a wide-eyed stare. “You remember what I order?”
“I remember a lot more than you think,” I say, wanting her to know I didn’t discard her from my memory, even if I did remove her from my life—or vice versa.
Her bright-blue eyes narrow like she’s debating whether to believe me. “Can I get a Coke, too? Please.” She digs in her bag that sits on the floor by her feet and removes her wallet.
“I got it, Kensi. Put that away.” I pull up to the call box and give our orders to the voice on the other side.
“Did my dad give you an allowance for me?” she asks as I drive to the second window.
