Page 5 of Pucking Knox
Christ.The words hit me like a shot of whiskey, burning all the way down. She has no idea what she's asking for. No idea what those words do to the darkness inside me.
"Kenny." Sawyer's voice is gentle but firm. "Maybe we should go home."
"Listen to your friend," I growl, not breaking eye contact with Kennedy. "Car's this way."
"We can get an Uber."
"Not happening."
She opens her mouth to argue more, but I'm already walking toward my car. After a moment, I hear them following. Small victories.
The drive to their dorm is tense. Kennedy sits in the back, radiating fury, while Sawyer tries to make awkward small talk from the passenger seat. I focus on driving, on not looking in the rearview mirror every five seconds to watch Kennedy pout.
I walk them to their building because I'm not an asshole, despite what Kennedy whispers to Sawyer. At the door, Sawyer goes in first, leaving me alone with hurricane Kennedy.
"I know what you're doing," she says quietly.
"Yeah?" I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms.
"You're trying to protect my virtue or whatever because of some stupid code with my brother. But guess what?" She steps closer, tilting her face up to mine. "I can fuck whoever I want, wherever I want, whenever I want."
I catch a whiff of her perfume – something sweet.
Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to track the movement. "So stop following me around like some sexually frustrated guard dog."
A laugh almost escapes me. "Sexually frustrated guard dog?"
"Please." Her eyes rake down my body, leaving heat in their wake. "I see how you watch me at parties. How you clench your jaw when guys talk to me. How you—"
I catch her chin, just like last night. "Careful, Princess."
"Or what?"
Or I'll show you exactly what sexually frustrated looks like, I think.I'll pin you against this wall and kiss that smirk off your face. I'll make you forget every other man's name.
"Go to bed," I say, releasing her. "And stop trying to make me snap. You wouldn't like the results."
Something flashes in her eyes – victory? – but she just turns and flounces into her building without another word.
I wait until I hear the door lock, then start the quick drive home. The February air does nothing to cool the heat under my skin. Nothing to stop the images flooding my mind.
Kennedy in that tiny jersey.
Kennedy pressing closer instead of pulling away.
Kennedy looking up at me with those innocent eyes while she—
But alone in my room later, ice melting off my bruised knuckles, the mantra isn't working anymore. Because every time I close my eyes, I see her. Every time I try to sleep, I hear her voice.
Maybe I want to be broken.
I roll over, punching my pillow. Down the hall, I can hear Ace talking on the phone, probably checking on his sister. My best friend's sister. The one girl I absolutely cannot touch.
But as I finally drift off, one thing I know for sure is:
Kennedy is not going to fuck whoever she wants, wherever she wants, whenever she wants.
I’ll make sure of it.
