messy.” She doesn’t seem angry that Mary Anne lied. She appears
impressed.
Her smile makes me smile, and then I say, “You were jealous.”
Kenna rolls her eyes. “I was not.”
“You were.”
She pushes off the wall and heads for the stairs, but she pauses right in
front of me. She faces me, and I can’t tell what her expression means.
I don’t know what she’s about to do, but if she tried to kiss me, it
would make my fucking night. I’m tired of the back-and-forth with her. I’m
tired of hiding her. I’d give anything to be able to get to know her better
without worrying about consequences, to be able to ask her questions that
have nothing to do with Scotty or the Landrys. I want to openly kiss her, I
want to take her home with me, I want to know what it’s like to fall asleep
next to her and wake up next to her.
I fucking like her, and the more I’m around her, the more I don’t want
to be apart from her.
“I’m putting in my two-week notice,” she says.
Shit. I chew on my lip until I’m positive I won’t drop to my knees and
beg her to stay. “Why?”
She hesitates and then says, “You know why.”
She disappears back inside the building, and I sit in my fucking
feelings.
I stare at my truck with an intense urge to drive straight to Patrick and
Grace’s house and tell them all about Kenna. I want to tell them how
selfless she is. I want to tell them what a hard worker she is. I want to tell
them how forgiving she is, because every single one of us has been making
her life a living hell, yet she somehow doesn’t seem to resent us for it.
I want to tell Patrick and Grace every wonderful thing about Kenna,
but even more than that, I want to tell Kenna how wrong I was when I told
her Diem wouldn’t benefit from having her in her life.
Who am I to say that to a mother about her own child?
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