Memory. Kennedy’s hands on my ass as we competed in the unofficial Abbott Springs dirty dancing competition. His lips parted, his mouth grazing my neck, and his body moving in time with mine.
Fantasy. Him finding me in the bathroom after and pushing me against the wall until I felt the hard length of his erection pressing into my stomach. “Can we stop pretending?”
Memory wove into fantasy until sleep overtook me completely, and my dreams wove my fantasies into a vivid tapestry of comfort and eroticism. I dreamed I woke up with Kennedy’s arms around me and it was morning. Before I could move, his hand was between my legs and his mouth was on my neck, his whisper in my ear. “I’m going to die if I can’t be inside you soon, Bree.”
A flood of light jerked me from sleep. I wanted to draw up the covers and go back to the dream. I wanted to send away the noisy light-bearers, whoever they were, but then I heard Kennedy’s voice and sat up in bed before I even remembered where I was.
“Who are you?” I asked, my eyes heavy, my voice crackling with sleep. Was I in Kennedy’s house or—
It all came back to me. My impulsive flight to Ohio. The cab ride to Kennedy’s small college. His roommate showing me to his room.
But this wasn’t my plan, falling asleep, being disoriented. I’d never planned for the leggy blonde standing next to Kennedy, her eyes bugging out so much I feared they might pop out of her head.
I blinked at her. Trying to understand why she might be here. Then two things happened at once: I remembered I was naked, and the blonde turned to Kennedy and slapped him across the face.
“What the fuck, Bree?” Kennedy growled. The blonde was already storming out of his room, and from the anger on his face, I could only assume her exit didn’t exactly work with his plans for the evening.
His words hurt, but not as much as the aggravation on his face. I guess I’d thought he’d find me nude in his bed and say something like, “Finally,” before pressing his mouth to mine and pulling his clothes off as quickly as possible.
Instead, he said, “Jesus, are you drunk? Put some clothes on.” Then he stomped out of the room. Running after his girlfriend, I could only guess.
I scrambled out of bed and dressed with shaking hands, dying inside with bone-deep embarrassment. I wasn’t the kind of girl who threw herself at guys who weren’t interested. I gave myself to losers and bad boys who might never hold down a steady job, but at least they wanted me. Not Kennedy. “Put some clothes on.” So much for smooth seduction.
Tim/Tom was on the couch when I cracked Kennedy’s door and peeked into the common area. “Is he out there?”
“He ran after Kelsey. What happened?”
I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. “Thanks,” I managed before I ran through the common room and out the door.
I took a cab back to the Cincinnati airport, where I waited on standby for a flight back to New York. Five times my phone buzzed and Kennedy’s face came up on the display. Five times I sent his call to voicemail.
I was too crushed to hear his voice, too embarrassed to explain.
Mom woke me up with a knock on my door just like I was in high school again, and I rolled over and buried my face in my pillow until she went away. I hadn’t slept for shit last night. When Bree had tiptoed out of the room as soon as the sun peeked in through the curtains, I hadn’t followed her.
I could hear her downstairs, no doubt chatting with the fam over a cup of coffee and laughing with my little sisters over some stupid joke. I climbed out of bed and went straight to the bathroom, showering and dressing before I could muster the energy to pretend everything was okay.
Today was the opening ceremony for Winterfest, and my dad would expect all of us kids to stand by his side as he gave his officious little speech. I swear, you’d think he was fucking President of the United States the way he treated his job as mayor of Abbott Springs.
After pulling on jeans and a sweater, I headed down the stairs.
Aubree was in her pajamas. She’d pulled a hooded sweatshirt over her tee, but I had an excellent view of her ass in those tight little black pants she liked to sleep in. She had the sexiest bedhead of any girl I’d ever met. No matter how she was wearing her hair, she always climbed out of bed looking half wild and freshly fucked. I wanted to make her hair look like that. And I’d spent the better part of my night resisting the urge.
She was laughing about something and her smile faltered as she looked up from her coffee and spotted me. “Good morning, Kennedy,” she said softly.
“Kennedy!” Mom called. “Are you helping Cynthia set up for this afternoon’s treasure hunt?”