I raise an eyebrow. “I’ve got twin heads up in my room.”
Her cheeks turn a delicious shade of pink, and she smiles shyly. That’s what kills me about Kenley. I’ve had two incredible sexual encounters with her where she’d been anything but shy, but out here? She looks like she may crawl under the float and hide.
“Ez,” Finn calls, drawing my eyes away from KK and up to the trailer. “You have any duct tape? I think we used all of the rolls from the store.”
“Yeah, let me go check.” I turn to Kenley. “Want to come with me?”
“And get away from the wind, the creepy football coach, and the terrible music the dance team keeps playing? Yes, please.”
We go through the garage, into the back door. Once inside, I grab her fingertips and squeeze, just wanting to touch her. There’s a floor to ceiling cabinet where we keep a few tools and cleaners. I open it up and start looking for the duct tape.
“Shit,” I say, “maybe it’s in the laundry room. I know we had some, I used it the other day. Maria always puts things where I can’t find them.”
“Oh, boo-hoo, your housekeeper cleans up after you. Poor thing.”
I grab her hip. “Are you saying I’m spoiled?”
“Rotten, actually. Entitled, too.”
I bend down and kiss her mouth, sliding my tongue between her lips. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
“Hey,” she says, grabbing my arm. “Maybe once all this is over, we can go take a ride on your bike?”
Fly through the hills with Kenley holding onto me while a powerful machine vibrates between her legs? Fuck yes.
“Why wait until it’s over?”
She shakes her head—loyal to the cause out in the yard.
“Because you’re hosting, and I’m really supposed to be taking pictures for the yearbook, not sneaking off to kiss you in the kitchen.”
I couldn’t give a fuck if we stay or not—I just want to spend time with her—but my impulsiveness is the reason I spent the last three years in and out of trouble. Following Kenley’s lead is probably the smarter way to go.
“After, okay? Promise?”
She nods, and I leave her in the kitchen, trying my best to keep my impulses under control. It may not be easy, but I know one thing for certain. She’s worth it.
21
Kenley
I wait in the kitchen for Ezra, feeling a little guilty about being inside while the rest of my classmates hustle to get the float finished. Not guilty enough to go out there though, it’s cold and Ezra’s kitchen is cozy and warm. Plus, if I hang around long enough, maybe I’ll get another kiss.
That boy does something to me, like strips away my inhibitions. I mean, I seriously gave him a hand job in the storage closet at school. Me! Kenley Keene, good girl, responsible, excellent student.
It feels good to put on a different hat.
I lean against the cabinet, next to the Baxter’s sub-zero refrigerator. The whole kitchen is wasted on two bachelors—one who is barely ever home. On the wall I see a board—the kind you see in almost every house. The Viking football schedule hangs on it with a marble-shaped magnet, along with a sheet with orderly phone numbers and passwords. A small cubby is affixed to the board, filled with business cards. My nosey nature takes over, and I pick up the cards, starting to look through them when the back door opens.
Busted, I rush to put them back in the slot, but fumble, tucking them in my back pocket instead.
“Oh, Kenley,” Mr. Baxter says, strolling into the room holding two red party cups. “Do you need help with something?”
“I’m just waiting on Ezra. He was looking for duct tape.”
He nods and walks to the refrigerator, opening the door and pulling out a bottle of wine. I shift over, feeling obtrusive, but he doesn’t seem bothered by my presence as he fills the cups.
“You know,” he says, corking the wine. “I’ve missed having you around here.”