Chapter Eleven
Wyatt
It took us almost three weeks to settle on two dates for us to meet the other’s parents, shocking I know, but eventually the evening that we were to have dinner with my parents had arrived. I had to admit, I was nervous, even though I was the one who constantly assured Kenzie that she didn't have to be. I adjusted my tie and glanced at myself in the mirror.
I heard Kenzie say a curse word out loud in the room next to mine, where she was getting ready and I grinned to myself. The last three weeks had been great. We spent a lot of time together and honestly my feelings for her had grown rock solid, no suggestive pun intended. I possibly loved her. She made me feel like I was normal, no hangups, and even when one or two managed to swim to the surface, she treated it like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Kenzie let out another curse word, sounding even more frustrated than the previous time and I called out to her.
“Is everything okay?”
“I don't even know how to answer that,” was her answer, and it made me chuckled.
I made sure that my tie was perfectly straight and I made my way out of my room. I stopped in the next room’s doorway and leaned against the chest of drawers standing beside the door. Kenzie frantically and with much annoyance, wiped her left eye and picked up her mascara.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She glanced at me briefly and shook her head, turning her attention back to the mirror. I watched as she carefully redid her left eye makeup, which I could only gather was not the second time or even the third time. She managed to get it done perfectly and she looked at me.
“Do I look okay?” she asked.
She didn't look okay at all. She looked amazing. She wore a red lace dress that had a figure hugging mini dress underneath, and I could honestly say that I had never seen anyone look as beautiful as she was right at that moment. Her hair was loosely curled and pinned to the one side. Her skin glowed and all I could do was look at her in awe.
She raised her eyebrows expectantly and tilted her head. “Hello? Are you going to answer me?”
“You look more than okay.”
“Do you think it’s a bit too much? I could change.”
I walked over to her and pulled her close to me. “Don’t even think about changing. Not now, not ever.”
“I’ll try my best,” she sighed and pulled out of my embrace.
“You look a bit nervous,” I pointed out.
“I am, and I don’t even know why,” she said and put on a dark red lipstick. “Can you tell me why, because I don’t.”
“It’s just my parents, babe.”
“That’s the thing. I have serious impressing to do tonight.”
“No, you don’t. Just be yourself.”
“And what if they don't like me?”
“They will.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because you’re amazing and wonderful and funny, and most importantly they will see how happy I am with you.”
She glanced at me for a few seconds and smiled slowly. “Right I’m sorry. It’s just been a while since I met the parents, you know, and it’s not like I’ve ever dated a billionaire before.”
“I’m just a normal guy, Kenzie.”
She looked at me and scoffed in amusement. “Yeah, you’re as normal as they come.”
I smiled at her and glanced at my watch. “We have to leave soon.”
“Just give me five more minutes, please.”
“Sure. I’ll go get the car.”
“Hey,” she called out and I looked back at her. “You look amazing, by the way.”
“Thank you,” I answered with a wink before I walked down the hallway, through the living area, and to the inter-leading door that led to the garage. I pulled out the Jaguar into the driveway and climbed out. I turned to the house and saw Kenzie standing in the doorway, all ready to go.
“You look beautiful,” I said to her as she approached me.
“Thank you.”
“Red is my favorite color.”
“I know,” she shrugged.
The drive to my parents’ house was brief, but we spent most of it in silence. As I drove into Star Island, I noticed Kenzie stare at the houses in awe.
“I used to love this place.”
I saw her looking at me from the corner of my eye and smiled.
“Their house is probably the most prime piece of real estate in the entire Miami Beach.”
“That doesn't surprise me.”
“My parents weren't the richest people when we grew up, you know.”
“So you don't come from a wealthy family?”
“No, I made all my own money. Never inherited anything from my dad. He believes that if you want something, you have to work for it.”
“That’s a good philosophy to have though. My father feels the same. I had to pay my own way through college, and my first car I also bought myself.”
“What was it?”
“A beat up Beetle.”
“That doesn't surprise me. You look like the Beetle type.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said with a chuckle. “I loved that car. Her name was Bessy and we spent quite a few summers together. She even made it to Virginia once.”
“Only once?”
“She had to be towed back home. The engine seized up, and her carburetor decided that the drive was way too long.”
“Poor Bessy.”
“I know,” she sighed. “This might sound really stupid, but I saved one of her mounting nuts, and I had it made into a pendant. I still wear it to this day.”
“That’s sweet, not stupid.”
“Says the one who made fun of my crystal, and my wind chimes, and my dream catchers.”
“Okay, you’ve made your point.”
“Don’t worry, I won't mention any of that in front of your parents. I don't want them to think I am some kind of gypsy that put you under a spell.”
“You tell them whatever you are comfortable with.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“That’s nice of you.”
We arrived at the house, and as I drove along the ridiculously long driveway, Kenzie’s eyes widened.
“How long is this driveway?”
I chuckled and slowed the car down as the house came into view.
“Holy crap,” she exclaimed.
“It’s just a house.”
“That is not a house. It’s a palace!”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“That’s what I do,” she said and fobbed me off.
We climbed out of the car and walked to the front door. I keyed the passcode in on the padlock panel and the door slowly opened.
“Seriously?” she whispered.
“Come on,” I said and held my hand out to her.
She placed her hand in mine and we stepped inside the house. As we walked into the living room, my mother came into view, wearing one of her favorite designer dresses, and I had to admit, she looked good.
“Neville, they’re here,” she chimed and approached us.
“Evening, Mother,” I said and she hugged me, planting a kiss on my cheek.
“Evening, my boy,” she said with excitement in her voice. “It is so good to see you.”
“Likewise,” I said and pulled out of her embrace. “Mother, this Kenzie. Kenzie, this is my mother.”
“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Mother said and hugged Kenzie as well. “We were beginning to think that you were imaginary.”
“Mother,” I warned.
Kenzie stifled a chuckle and turned to my mother. “It’s great to meet you, Mrs. Pearce.”
“Oh, please call me Veronica,” she said and escorted us to the dining room.
“She seems nice,” Kenzie whispered to me.
“For now. Wait until she has had a few glasses. Then she’ll be tactlessly blunt.”
“So, that’s where you get it from,” she mumbled and I pouted slightly. She chuckled and took my hand.
We walked to the formal dining room, and my father was there making sure everything was perfect. In many ways, I was like him, and it kind of drove my mother crazy. She was much more laid back, and I knew for sure that she would definitely like Kenzie.
“Wyatt, good evening,” my father said with a smile on his face as he approached us. He shook my hand and glanced at Kenzie. “You must be Kenzie.”
“Good to meet you, sir,” she greeted him.
“Likewise,” Father answered. “I must say, you are much prettier than Wyatt explained to us.”
“Thank you,” she answered with a chuckle.
We sat down for dinner and as the starters were served, my father turned to Kenzie. “Kenzie, you are an interior designer, right?”
“That’s right, sir,” she answered.
I was impressed by the way she handled herself, even though she was a mess while she was getting ready.
“What made you go into that line of work?”
She glanced briefly at me and turned back to my father. “I'm an artist, and I love creating things. Designing has always been a passion of mine, and I’ve been interested in it for a very long time.”
“She’s really good at what she does as well,” I chimed in.
“That is certainly a good thing.”
“It’s always a good thing to have a passion for what you do, honey,” Mother said to her.
“And what do your parents do, Kenzie?”
“They’re both academics. My father teaches Physics at the university, and my mother is an auditor.”
“Wow,” Mother said and drank her wine.
“Yeah, I’m the only artist in the house, so I was a little misunderstood, but they respect me for who I am, and I love that about them.”
“Are they here in Miami?”
“Yes, they’re still here. My dad is originally from Virginia, but he moved here for my mom, because she was from here, and she was still in college. He loved her and wanted to be with her.”
“That’s so sweet.”
“Yeah, my mom thought so too,” Kenzie smiled.
“It sounds like you are close with your family.”
“I am. They did a lot for us growing up. They made sacrifices for us like we all do for the people we love. I try to have dinner with them every week if I’m not too busy with work.”
“Are you into any sports?”
“No, not really. I’m not really interested in it. My dad loves his football, but that’s about it. My brother used to play hockey, but that was a long time ago.”
“Wyatt also played hockey.”
“You did?” she asked and looked at me.
“Yeah, he was captain of his team in high school,” Father said and I glanced at him nervously. “Who is your brother, Kenzie?”
“Dillon Morris,” she answered.
“You’re Darryl’s daughter?”
“Yes, I am,” she answered. “How do you know my dad?”
“I think Wyatt and your brother was on the same team in high school. I met your father a few times.”
“Wow, Miami is so much smaller than you think.”
“Well, if you live your entire life here, then you meet people, you know.”
“Apparently,” she said with a smile and glanced at me.
I smiled in return and hoped deep inside my heart that she wouldn’t ask Dillon about me. I knew it was wrong of me not to tell her about this, but I didn't have much of a choice. She was close with her family, and would obviously take Dillon’s side above mine, no matter how much she felt for me.
Family always came first, apparently.
Kenzie
Wyatt glanced at me and I noticed that he was more nervous than I was. His parents were really nice to me, especially his mother. We talked about fun things, like shopping and fashion, and she even asked my advice on redoing their entertainment area, which was flattering, because I could see that she had style. I felt completely at ease, which was great. I didn't like feeling on edge, and I normally had no problem meeting new people. Meeting Wyatt’s parents were a different story altogether. They were his parents, and somehow it was important for them to like me. I didn't want them to think I was fake or anything like that, but there were a few things that I didn't tell them right off the bat like I had dream catchers and crystals in my house, and that I thought their son was the One.
Yes, I thought that. At first, I thought I was crazy for thinking something like that so soon, but every day that I spent with Wyatt made me so sure that it was true. I was totally in love with him, and totally terrified to say it to him. I knew what men were like when the L-word was used too soon, and sadly I had experienced it one too many times. Either that or they just say it to sleep with you.
Wyatt wasn't like those other guys though. Sure, he was particular and precise, punctual and knew exactly what he wanted, but if I recall correctly, I wished for all those things in a man every time someone turns out to be the opposite of that.
Too many times had I dated a guy who has no direction and had no clue where he wanted to be in life. Or they were late, or didn't text or call back, because ‘they were busy’. Look, I get that. Life is busy, but if I truly meant that much to him, he would have made time to text. A text just takes a minute. I don't think that was too much to ask for.
Wyatt on the other hand, texted me back almost immediately, not only because the sound of his phone continually reminding him that he had received a text, but also because he wanted to text back.
He wanted to. He made an effort. The dates that he took me on – the ones he got to decide where we went – surprised me more and more each time. He stepped out of his comfort zone because he knew that I would like it. I did that as well. I toned down a little for him as well.
Sophia thinks that I am changing myself and sacrificing who I was so that he will like me more, but to me, it was more of adapting to him, as he was to me. He reminded me to not have my heads in the clouds all the time, and brought me back to Earth, whereas I reminded him that things shouldn't be taken too seriously and that having fun was not a crime. The best date that he took me on was on his yacht. I was absolutely terrified, so naturally, I wore my life jacket, and clutched to the railing like my life depended on it, but after he assured me that he wouldn't allow anything to happen to me. After that, it got better. Much better. We watched the sunset and drank champagne, and then he took me home. Always the gentleman too. He never tried to force me into a situation that I didn't want to be in, and he was never angry when I said no.
I didn't want to rush things with him on a sexual note, but I also was not going to wait until we possibly get married. I knew that he didn't just like me for my body, but I needed to know that his love – shit, I said love – for me was real.
After dinner was over, we moved to the inside entertainment area, where Veronica and I spoke about art, while Mr. Pearce and Wyatt had an intense conversation about stocks or something. I had no idea what they were talking about, but I didn't mind. I was bonding with his mother, and I liked her very much. As the evening progressed and the wine flowed even more than it was, Veronica climbed completely out of her shell and started to tell me stories about Wyatt when he was a little boy. Of course, he did not seem too impressed by that, and for the first time since knowing him, he blushed with embarrassment. Of course, I could not help but laugh at the sweet things he did as a kid, and I secretly – and probably presumptuously – hoped that our kid would do adorable things like he did.
I knew it was a long shot, but I was allowed to dream, wasn't I?
The evening came to an end and we said goodbye to his parents. Veronica hugged me longer than what was deemed appropriate, but when she whispered in my ear, “Thank you for making him smile the way you do,” all was forgiven.
My heart churned custard as she looked at me before stepping towards Wyatt and hugging him as well.
“It was such a lovely evening,” Veronica sighed and kissed Wyatt on the cheek. “We better do this again very soon.”
“We will.”
“Thank you for a lovely evening, Kenzie. It is wonderful to see that you make him as happy as he is.”
“Thank you, sir. That means a lot to me.”
I waved at them as we walked to the car, and we climbed inside.
“Well, that was fun,” I said as he drove out of their driveway.
“I can’t tell whether you’re being sarcastic or not.”
“I’m not being sarcastic. I really had a good time tonight. You were so right about your mom. She is awesome.”
“She tends to get a little carried away.”
“I like it. Your dad is nice too, obviously.”
“So, you’re not put off by either of them?”
“Of course not. They’re great.”
He smiled and asked, “Are you tired?”
“Not really. That wine your mother gave me has my head buzzing.”
“Should I take you home?”
“No, I think we can go to your house if that’s okay. All my stuff is there anyway.”
“Oh, right. I forgot about that.”
As he drove us to his house, I placed my hand over his and weaved my fingers through the gaps between his fingers. A smile appeared on his lips as we drove in complete silence, never once feeling an inkling of discomfort.
We arrived at his house and he parked the car inside the garage. We climbed out and he unlocked the inter-leading door. Even though the lights were off, the blue lights from the pool bathed the inside of the house in a soft blue color. It almost felt magical and all I could do was turn to Wyatt and look at him. The way he moved around in the dark, just ignited the fire inside me and when he turned to me, he frowned.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he took off his jacket and hung it neatly over the armrest of the couch.
“Come here,” I said, my voice hushed as if I was too afraid to talk too loud.
He slowly walked to me and I looked up at him. I slowly took hold of his tie and pulled him close to me. His arms wrapped around me like a warm blanket and I kissed him. I kissed him the same way that girl kissed that guy in that movie that I liked. I kissed him the way he deserved to be kissed, and the way he was supposed to be kissed. He pulled away and his breathing was ragged as he looked at me.
“What was that for?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“A lot of things,” I whispered. “Everything.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’ve never been better in my entire life,” I answered. I briefly lowered my gaze and looked at him again. “Wyatt, I have to tell you something.”
“Tell me,” he whispered in a tone that made my knees go weak.
It was probably too soon, and I might regret this in the morning, but I also might regret it if I didn't say it to him right now. “I love you, Wyatt.”
There, I said it, and I meant every word.
He looked at me with eyes that could literally set me on fire and brushed a strand of hair off my face. A small smile formed on his lips and he whispered, “I love you, too.”
I never knew what people meant when they said their hearts burst with love, but at that moment, I fully understood what they were talking about.
In that moment, standing in the blue lit living room, in the arms of the most complex, yet wonderful man in the world, I knew what it felt like to be in love, and not just superficial love or lust or whatever you’d like to call it. I was in love, with every little aspect of him. Not just the good things, I love his abruptness, and his persistence, his curt manner, and his assertiveness. His strive to perfection, and the way he pushed himself to be better. I loved him, with everything I had in me.
He tilted my chin upwards and kissed me, exactly the same way I had kissed him just moments before. It was exhilarating, and I felt like at any moment I was going to float away.
I pulled away from him because I knew I needed to catch a breather. My head was spinning and I stepped back.
“Are you okay?”
“I, uhm...” I stuttered, not really knowing exactly what to say. “I’m fine.”
“You seem a bit overwhelmed.”
“I’m fine,” I insisted and walked towards the hallway.
“Where are you going?”
“You better follow me and find out,” I answered and proceeded through the living room, to the hallway.
Halfway into the hallway, I felt him grab my hand and he pushed me against the wall. He kissed me again, running his hands down my body and it drove me crazy. My hands reached for the front of his shirt and I loosened his tie. I then unbuttoned his shirt and ran my fingers along his chest. His ragged breathing matched mine and I knew that this was the beginning of the end or the end of the beginning.
Fuck, I wasn't making any sense, but I didn't care.
The moment his hands grabbed – gently of course, but with a hint of urgency – both my breasts, I was done for. My breathing was ragged as I looked into his eyes and noticed the sheer magnitude of the urgency in his eyes.
In one swift – and super suave – move, he scooped me up in his arms and proceeded to walk to his bedroom. Once inside, he placed me down on the bed and climbed onto the bed himself. We were still fully clothed, except for his shirt that was unbuttoned. He kissed me again and I felt the pressure of him against my hips. I was pretty sure that my underwear was soaked by now, but I was allowing him to be in control, for now. He ran his on hand up my thigh but didn't reach under my dress at all, which was strangely comforting. He was enjoying this way too much, I could tell, but my own hormones were raging inside me. I wanted more of him. I wanted all of him.
He paused for a second as he hovered over me and gave me a questionable look as if he was searching for confirmation that he could carry on. I nodded at him, more desperate than I would have like to seem, but I didn't care. I pushed myself up onto my elbows and he moved away, giving me the necessary space to sit upright. I loosened the waistband of my dress and slipped it over my head, throwing it into the darkness of the room.
Hopefully, he didn't feel compelled to pick it up and fold it neatly. Hopefully, that was not the only thing on his mind.
I lay back against the soft bedding and watched as he looked at me with his smoldering eyes like he was ready to pounce on me. As he leaned in closer to me, I grabbed his shirt and pulled it back and down his shoulders revealing his amazing chest and torso. He leaned in closer to me and I lifted my knees up so that he could comfortably fit between my legs. He kissed me on the neck and a giant wave of shivers ran down my spine, which spread to every part of my body. It grew even more intense as he ran his lips seductively down my body, avoiding all the parts that were still covered by my silky white underwear. He was driving me crazy to the point where I couldn't even see straight.
The only clear thought I had was that I was incredibly grateful for two things at this very moment.
One, I wore matching underwear.
Two, I shaved.
Those two things were about as good as it gets.
I reached for his pants, undid his belt and slipped his pants down his legs. He slid his pants off completely and was back on top of me now.
“Wyatt…” I breathed into his ear as he kissed my collarbone.
“Yes?” he asked in a raspy voice.
“Do you have any?”
“Any what?”
“Protection.”
“Of course,” he answered.
I looked at him for a few seconds and frowned. “Will you get one?”
“Of course. Sorry. My brain isn't functioning at its usual optimal rate,” he answered and reached for the bed side table.
I was a bit night blind, so I couldn't really see what he was doing, but when he lay back down, I motioned to him to lie on his back.
I slipped off my underwear and straddled him. I knew it took him a bit by surprise, but he soon eased into it as he grabbed my hips and everything just took off from there.
That was the one thing that I loved about being on top. I could control everything. The speed, the intensity, the rhythm. It was freeing, and seeing Wyatt’s expression as I ground against him was turning me on even more. His hands cupped my boobs and it made my skin tingle in ways that I never thought possible. After a while, Wyatt probably grew tired – and frustrated – of not being in control, and without any warning, although it was completely spontaneous, he rolled us over until he was the one on top of me.
He was in his element right now, and feeling the thrusts inside me made me want him even more.
Although Wyatt was awkward in 99% of his life and social situations, he was the King of his castle. He knew exactly what to do, where to touch, how hard to touch and it made me wonder how the hell he was not one of the most sought after men ever. I bet, if every woman knew how confident he was in the bedroom, they would want him so badly.
Fuck, no. Nobody needed to know this. He was mine, and I was never going to let him go.
His rhythm sped up and we experienced our first orgasms together, or like five seconds apart, even though I had had a dozen before he was even on top of me.
We collapsed into a heap of sweat and sex and stared into one another’s eyes.
“I love you so much,” I panted and ran my fingers through his hair.
“I love you, Kenzie,” he whispered in return and kissed me tenderly on the lips.
Wyatt
I lay on my side and stared at Kenzie, who was sleeping beside me. We were still completely naked and hadn’t moved much since.
A smile ran across my lips, as I could certainly get used to seeing this every night. She looked so peaceful as she slept, and I wondered why it had taken me this long to see her the way I saw her right at this moment. She was the most beautiful and perfect thing I had ever seen in my entire life, and the most amazing thing was, that she loved me. She loved me regardless of my flaws and faults. She didn't care that I was rude and tactless. She didn't try to change me at all. On the contrary, she was one of the very few people who I could be myself with.
I sat up slowly, not wanting to disturb this beautiful angel beside me, and slid out of bed. I took a quick shower and got dressed in a pair of boxers and a vest. There was no possible way that I could sleep both naked and smelling of sex. Not that it was a bad smell, but I just needed to wash it off. I didn't mind if she slept naked beside me, but I wasn't going to. I went to fetch a drink of water and returned to my bedroom.
I was surprised when I saw Kenzie with her eyes open and I climbed back into bed.
“Where did you go?” she asked.
“I just took a shower, and got dressed.”
“You can’t sleep naked, can you?”
“Not at all,” I answered and brushed a strand of hair off her face. “But I don't mind if you do.”
“I thought you left.”
“Why would I leave?”
“I don't know. Maybe it wasn’t...”
“Hey, it was amazing.”
“Really?”
“Yes, you make me feel things that I never felt before.”
“Same here,” she said and smiled at me. “I’m really lucky that have met you, Wyatt Pearce.”
“Even though I was such a jerk?”
“Despite all that, you are the most amazing guy, and I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” I said. “More than words could ever explain.”
She smiled at me and tilted her head. “Can I have some of that?”
“I’ll go get you a glass.”
“No, I just want a sip.”
I looked at her hesitantly, but then I realized, I had just had sex with her. Our genitals were inside one another’s. Why on earth would I possibly care if she took a sip of my water?
“Okay,” I said and handed her the glass.
She took a long sip and handed it back to me. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Come lay here with me,” she whispered and I cuddled up next to her under the blanket. The warmth of her body was welcoming and as she snuggled up against my chest, with the sweet smell of her hair filling my nostrils, I fell asleep to the rhythmic sounds of her breathing.
I woke up with a start and glanced at Kenzie next to me, but she wasn't there. For a split second I thought that it had been a dream, but then I heard a strange noise in the house. I sat up and glanced at the alarm clock. It was already after nine. It was strange because I never slept in this late, but remembering last night, and the time we eventually fell asleep, I was not surprised that I slept this late. What did surprise me was that Kenzie was up before me, and she didn’t wake me up.
I climbed out of bed and made my way to the kitchen. I was rather surprised to see Kenzie, wearing one of my t-shirts, in the kitchen making breakfast.
Or at least that was what I thought she was trying to do. First of all, the kitchen a complete mess. There were utensils lying everywhere, everything was out of place, and I could see raw egg whites on the counter next to a small stack of empty eggshells. A shudder ran down my spine but I didn't say anything. Instead, I focused all my attention on her.
She wore one of my gray t-shirts and I had to admit, she looked great in it. I certainly wouldn't mind seeing this every single morning. Minus the mess kitchen, of course.
She sang aloud, dancing to the beat of the song that played in her head – heaven only knew what that was. Even though her voice was raspy, her notes were a little off-key, she wore only an oversized t-shirt with her hair tied up into a high ponytail, she was perfect.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
She continued dancing and singing as she scooped the eggs out of the frying pan and onto the plates in front of her. She turned slightly and caught sight of me, standing across the room.
“Good morning,” she said with a smile. “I didn't see you there.”
“I haven’t been standing here too long.”
“Oh, crap. Did my terrible singing wake you?” she asked with a cringe.
“No, the feeling of an empty bed did,” I said as I walked over to her. I put my arms around her shoulders and kissed her. “Good morning.”
“Good morning to you too, handsome,” she said with a smile. “Did you sleep well?”
“I did actually.”
“So as you can see, I make us breakfast and set the table. All you have to do is pour us coffee and I’ll be done in two minutes.”
“Two minutes exactly?”
“Yes, I’m timing myself,” she answered. “I know you like your coffee hot.”
“Okay.”
“I had to admit, I was impressed that she remembered that, and that she took the initiative to make breakfast.
I poured coffee into two mugs and headed to the dining room. She had set the table exactly the way I liked it and it made me smile. No-one had ever willingly gone to this much effort for me. I placed the cup down on the table and sat down. Within a minute, Kenzie was there and placed a plate in front of me. I had to admit, it looked amazing. She had made everything perfectly how I liked it. My eggs were fried, the yolk still soft, but not too soft. The two slices of toast were golden brown, but not burnt, and my rashers of bacon were crispy, but not too crispy.
I was impressed.
She sat down opposite me and placed her plate in front of her. I shot a brief glance at her plate and frowned. It was the complete opposite of mine. Her eggs were scrambled, the slices of toast – which could not even be called toast, more like warmed up bread – were cut into squares instead of triangles, and the bacon lay on top of the bread.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. My breakfast is perfect. It’s yours that I am worried about.”
“You don't need to be worried about mine. This is the way I like it.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
She took a sip of coffee and nodded.
“How on earth did you end up liking me?”
“What do you mean?” she asked and took a bit of her bread.
“We’re so different, you and I.”
“And?”
“Doesn't that worry you?”
“Why would it worry me?”
“Right, nothing worries you,” I shrugged.
“I wouldn't say nothing worries me, Wyatt. I’m just less inclined to worry about things that I can’t control. Don't overthink it so much. We’re different, sure, but isn't that what makes us great?”
“It is.
“Wait, so it bothers you that we’re so different?”
“A little.”
“Why?”
“Because one day, you’re going to wake up and realize that we have absolutely nothing in common-”
“That’s not true,” she interjected.
“Name one thing we have in common.”
She glanced down at the coffee cup in her hand and pouted, “We both love coffee.”
“Name another thing, something bigger.”
“Wyatt, it’s not about the big things.”
“Then why are they called big things if they don’t matter?”
“Because some idiot told someone that they do and now everyone believes it.”
“I just...”
“Stop being so insecure about yourself. If I didn't think that we stood a chance, I wouldn't be here.”
“You think we stand a chance?”
“Of course. Don’t you?”
“I do, I mean I want to, but...”
“You’re too realistic for your own good, you know.”
“You sound just like my mother.”
“Good, because she’s awesome,” she chuckled.
I glanced down at my plate and took a bite. “This is good.”
“Thank you.”
“How did you remember how I like my food?”
“Making an effort isn't that hard,” she pointed out nonchalantly.
“Thank you, Kenzie.”
“You're welcome,” she smiled and winked at me.
I glanced past her and noticed the upside down kitchen with a frown. I cleared my throat and casually asked, “So what about the kitchen?”
“It’s okay. Just enjoy your breakfast. I’ll take care of it.”
I narrowed my eyes at her and she straightened her shoulders.
“Wyatt, relax. I’ll clean up when I’m done. I promise.”
She did, and I loved her for that.
Kenzie
Okay, so now I was nervous. Not just because Wyatt was meeting my parents, but also because I didn't really know what they would think of him. Not that I care what they thought. I was in love with him, and he treated me the way I deserved to be treated. That was more than enough for me. Hopefully, my parents saw how happy I was, and that it was in large part thanks to him.
The thing that made me most nervous was that there might be a possibility that Dillon may possibly show up at home because let’s face it, he was there a lot more than I was. My mom did assure me that he wasn’t going to arrive here unannounced. I didn't want any trouble because I knew how he felt about Wyatt. I just didn't understand why he felt such a high level of despise towards him. Wyatt didn't turn his application down because he had something against him. Maybe they already had someone who got the position, or Dillon wasn't the right fit for their company at the time.
Who knew?
I wanted to ask, just for clarification, but I didn't want to go down that road again. For now, I just wanted to introduce Wyatt to my parents, have a lovely dinner with the people who I loved and enjoy myself.
Was that too much to ask?
Maybe.
I walked into my bedroom where Wyatt stood in front of the mirror looking a bit horrified at his reflection.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him.
“Do I look okay to you?”
I chuckled at his question and crossed my arms.
“I knew it. I look ridiculous.”
“You can never look ridiculous.”
“Well, I feel ridiculous.”
“Why? You’re wearing jeans and a shirt.”
“I’m not used to jeans and a shirt to dinner.”
“My family is not really the formal type.”
“Right. So no suits and tuxedos then?”
“No, silly. They are not going to care what you wear, as long as you look presentable.”
He glanced down at my outfit and his jaw clenched.
“What?”
“Are you comfortable in that?”
I glanced down and nodded. “Yes.”
I had a pair of tight jeans on, a loose fitting black t-shirt that was loosely tied on my hip and my white sneakers. My hair was braided and the braid hung down my left shoulder.
“Stop worrying,” I said with a smile.
“I’m not worrying. You are.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Your fiddling with your hands and your hair, which means that you’re nervous,” he pointed out.
I dropped my hands to my sides and glared at him. “You don’t get to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Analyze me like that,” I answered and crossed my arms. “You’re not a shrink.”
“Right.”
I lowered my gaze and glanced at my wristwatch. “We should go.”
We left my apartment, which had been semi organized by Wyatt while I was in the shower, but of course, I didn't say anything to him about it. He didn't go into my design studio at all – formerly known as the guest bedroom – so it was fine. As long as I didn't open a drawer and find everything was arranged by color, or alphabetized or something like that.
That was probably the easiest thing about being at Wyatt’s place. Everything had its own personal spot, and it was labeled as well, so packing away the dishes was a breeze.
He drove us to my parents' house, upon his insistence of course. He didn't want them to think that he was being driven around by his girlfriend. That would be horribly emasculating.
I directed him to their house, which was very close to our old high school and when we stopped in the driveway, he asked, “They still live here?”
“What do you mean? Do you know this place?”
“No, I mean, since you attended high school.”
“Yeah, they love this house. I don't think they’ll ever move.”
“I may have driven passed here one too many times.”
“No, I would have definitely seen you.”
“I doubt that.”
“Why?”
“I changed a lot from high school.”
“We all change though,” I said and frowned. “Except Dillon. He still looks exactly the same, since like forever.”
We climbed out of the car and before we could even make it halfway up the path leading to the house, the door opened and my parents stood with open arms. They looked way too excited for their own good, and I knew that this would be one long evening. An embarrassing evening as well.
“Honey!” my mother waved us over and put her arms around me.
“Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad,” I said and ducked away from them. I took Wyatt’s hand and looked at my parents. “Mom and Dad, this is Wyatt. Wyatt, this Is my mom and dad.”
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Morris.”
“Still so formal I see,” my dad said and I glanced at him with a frown.
He spoke to Wyatt as if he knew him.
“Come on, Kenzie. Don’t look at me like that.”
“I just don’t understand why you would say something like that to him.”
“What do you mean?”
“You say that like you know him,” I answered.
“But we do, honey. You talked about him enough.”
I frowned and realized that I was just being a giant pain in the ass, and if this evening turns to shit, it was my fault. “Right, I’m sorry.”
“You talk about me?”
“Oh, all the time,” my mother answered and I gazed into the distance, silently praying for the Earth to open up and swallow me whole.
“She just can’t stop talking about you. It’s overwhelming, to say the least,” Mom said with a smile.
“Okay, that’s enough. Can we go inside now?”
“Of course, dear.”
We stepped inside the house and Wyatt winked at me. “You talk about me that much?”
“Oh, shut up,” I whispered and shook my head, and he just chuckled.
Dinner was great, and I was surprised that my parents didn't embarrass the living daylights out of me. My father didn't ask him stupid and intrusive questions, which was odd, but a total relief.
We sat outside in the garden having a drink and I noticed my mother glancing at Wyatt, strangely. I kicked her under the table and she looked at me with a frown.
“What was that for?” she asked me.
I pursed my lips and tilted my head.
“So, Wyatt,” my father said and cleared his throat. “Will you be joining us in Virginia in two weeks?”
Wyatt and I looked at one another and he nodded. “I told Kenzie that I will only go if it was okay with you.”
“Of course it is, why wouldn't it be?”
“The more the merrier.”
“Is Dillon coming too?” I asked the question I had been wanting to ask for a while now. Every since year that we went, Dillon had complained about how much he hated Virginia and how that was his least favorite holiday.
“He said he would.”
Oh no. “He doesn't even like Virginia.”
“He said that he was going.”
“Right,” I said with a nod.
“May I just say something?” Mom asked.
“Of course, Mrs. Morris,” Wyatt answered.
“You might not want me to say this, Kenzie-dear, but as your mother, I feel I have to.”
Oh no. She’s going to be embarrassing. “Mom...”
“It’s okay,” Wyatt shrugged and took my hand underneath the table.
I forced a smile and looked at my mother.
“I don't know quite how to say it,” Mom said.
“Then don’t,” I muttered through my teeth.
“But you two are really adorable together.”
“We are?”
“Of course we are,” he whispered.
I glanced at him and he winked at me. I could not help but smile and I crinkled my nose at him.
“See, you are adorable.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I answered.
“Everything that Kenzie had told us about you, Wyatt, shows that you two are complete opposites.”
“You caught that, sir,” Wyatt said suavely and I wondered what the hell had gotten into him. It was probably because he and my father seemed to get along great. It turned out that both of them loved golf, for some reason, and they spent a large portion of dinner talking about their handicaps and other terms I had never heard of.
“How did that happen, MacKenzie? You don't normally date guys like Wyatt,” Dad asked me.
My eyebrows shot up as everyone glanced at me and I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “I don't know. He is just different, and he’s definitely what I need in my life right now. He’s mature, and-”
“Do you own a motorcycle, Wyatt?” Dad asked.
“No, sir, and I never will.”
“Good. Those things are death on wheels.”
“I fully agree,” Wyatt said with a grin. “But do jet ski's count?”
“Not at all.”
I shook my head with a chuckle as Wyatt and Dad carried on talking about water sports, and it made me shudder all of a sudden. Mom placed her hand over mine and I glanced at her.
“I am glad to see that you are happy, Honey.”
“I am. I really am.”
“I’m so happy for you, and he is so handsome.”
“I know,” I shrugged.
The chimes sounded inside the house and I froze for a second. I glanced at Wyatt, but he was too deep in a conversation with my dad about golf to notice me. I turned around slowly and watched as Dillon walked through the house and opened the sliding doors.
“Well, this looks like fun,” he said as he glanced at me, but then his smile faded.
I jumped up from my seat and walked to him. “Hey, Dill. What are you doing here?”
“Why are you so edgy, sis?” he asked and peered around me. “Who is that?”
“Don’t make a scene,” I muttered to him, trying to block his way.
“Is that him?” he asked and I glanced over my shoulder as Wyatt turned to us. “What is he doing here?” Dillon exclaimed.
“Dillon, don’t make a scene,” I warned again, but it was too late.
Dillon already pushed passed me with ease, as usual, and headed straight for Wyatt.
“Hey, Dillon,” Wyatt said politely, but Dillon stopped right in front of him, practically growling like an angry animal.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Dillon, get out of his face,” I demanded, but he just ignored me.
“I told you to never set a foot here again,” Dillon growled.
What the hell was he talking about? Again? Had Wyatt been here before?
“Kenzie, let’s go inside,” my mom said, suddenly next to me, but I pulled away from her.
“No, I’m not leaving him. Dillon might kill him.”
My parents stepped back, away from the intense confrontation happening on the grass, while I stepped forward.
“I warned you, Wyatt!” Dillon growled again.
“Dillon, what the hell?”
“What possessed you to bring this guy here?” Dillon yelled at me.
“He’s my boyfriend!”
Dillon stared at me in disbelief for a second and shook his head. “He’s the guy you’re dating?”
“Yes, and I expect you to treat him with respect.”
“That’s not going to happen. He does not belong here, and you should stay the hell away from him!”
“What the hell is wrong with you, Dillon?”
Dillon ignored my question and turned his attention back to Wyatt. “You think you can worm your way back into this family after all this time, trying to impress everyone with your money and your fancy clothes, but let me tell you, I am not impressed. You are still the same son of a bitch I knew all those years ago!”
“That’s it, Dillon! I’ve had enough of your crap! You are not going to talk to Wyatt like that!” I exclaimed.
“I think I should go,” Wyatt said to me.
“No, we’re leaving,” I said as I took his hand and we walked to my parents.
“Where the hell are you going, you coward?” Dillon yelled, but we didn't respond, or even look at him.
“Mom, Dad, thank you for dinner.”
“It was nice meeting you, sir, ma’am.”
“I am so sorry for my son’s behavior, Wyatt,” Dad apologized.
“We’ll talk to him, honey,” Mom said to me and hugged me.
“I highly doubt that it will help, but go ahead.”
We said goodbye to my parents, left their house and as we sat in Wyatt’s car, I felt confused. I had no idea why in the world my brother would act this way towards Wyatt. I realized that Dillon didn't like him, but I never realized the full extent of it. I also felt ashamed that Dillon had the audacity to talk to Wyatt that way.
As Wyatt drove to my apartment building, I still tried to make sense of what had happened, but I came up with nothing. Hopefully, Wyatt could come up with some kind of idea. He was good at looking at every angle of a situation.
“I just don't get it,” I sighed. “I don't understand why the hell he acted this way.”
“Your brother seems to be very angry.”
“You don’t say,” I muttered. “What exactly did he mean when he said you were trying to weasel your way back into our family?”
Wyatt’s jaw clenched and he slacked off the car.
“Wyatt?”
“Just hold on.”
“Hold on what? Do you know something?”
“Just give me a minute.”
He pulled over onto the side of the road and switched on his emergency lights.
“Wyatt, what is going on? Why did you stop the car?”
When he didn't answer me again, I got a bit frantic, I had to admit. “Wyatt, talk to me. What was Dillon talking about?”
Wyatt
I took a deep breath and glanced at her. “I need to tell you something.”
“Clearly,” she answered and crossed her arms.
“Dillon and I, we knew each other in high school.”
She narrowed her eyes at him and pursed her lips.
“Actually, we were best friends all through high school.”
“You were best friends?” she asked. “Then why don't I remember you?”
“You were really young and...”
“And?”
“And I look a little different to what I looked like in high school.”
She frowned and studied me for a second. “Hold on, you...”
I noticed the gears working inside her head as she tried to remember and she suddenly turned to me with a gasp. “Oh my god. You’re Wylo.”
“I’m Wylo.”
“Oh my god. This is so weird.”
“Very.”
“You’re right, you do look different.”
“So do you.”
She pouted and suddenly slapped me against my arm. “Why the hell didn't you tell me that in the first place?”
“It was a long time ago, and I didn’t realize exactly who you were until I met your parents, for the second time.”
“Why didn't they tell me? Why didn't anyone tell me?”
“I don't know about your family, but I didn't think that it mattered.”
“It would have been nice to know, Wyatt.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
“You can count yourself lucky that you’re so attractive and wonderful.”
“Right,” I muttered.
“Wait, so if you were best friends, why aren’t you friends anymore? And why exactly does my brother want me to stay away from you? What happened?”
“There’s not much to tell. We got into a huge fight right before graduation and we just stopped being friends.”
“What was the fight about?”
“Kenzie, it was a long time ago. I don't even remember.”
“Well, clearly he does.”
“I’ve learned to distance myself people who do not positively contribute to my life. Apparently, life is too short, so I’ve been told.”
Kenzie raised an eyebrow at me and pursed her lips.
“I’m sorry I didn't tell you, okay. I honestly didn't think it would be important.”
“You and I clearly differ when it comes to prioritizing things.”
“We’re very different.”
“Is there anything else you want to tell me?” she asked me.
“No.”
“Really?”
“Nothing that isn't true.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, Kenzie. I promise,” I said and took her hand. “The only reason why I didn't say anything was that it was a long time ago, and I barely think about it at all. It’s not a part of my life anymore.”
“I get it. One tends to move on after something like that happened.”
“Exactly.”
“Clearly my brother didn't get the memo,” she shrugged.
“Now give me a kiss, and tell me how much you love me.”
She looked at me with a frown and tilted her head.
“I have a surprise for you.”
“No more surprises, please,” she sighed and ran her hands over her head.
“This is a good one, though.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“Are you free this weekend?” I asked her, hoping that she would be.
“Why do you ask?”
I owned quite a few properties along the Florida coast, but the place I most loved to go, by myself, of course, was my beach house in Santa Rosa Beach. It was the one place where I could escape to, where no-one bothered me. I had never taken anyone there before, and my family didn't even know I owned a condo there, that was how private it was. Whenever I needed to get away, that was where I went.
“Do you know of Santa Rosa Beach??”
“It’s just off Route 30A, right?”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“Come on, everybody knows about it.”
“Right,” I answered.
“What about it?”
“I have a house there, right on the beach, and I was thinking, or rather hoping, that you would like to come with me this weekend.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, I don’t joke about things like that.”
“You want me at your house by the beach?”
“Yes, I do. I’ve never taken anyone there before.”
“I feel honored.”
“Is that a yes?”
“I’d love to go with you this weekend.”
“Great,” I answered, and the relief was imminent in my voice.
“Did you think I was going to say no?”
“Well, you are upset with me, and I didn't want you to possibly think I was bribing you with a weekend at the beach to make up for me being an idiot,” I pointed out.
“Are you bribing me?” she asked and narrowed her eyes at me.
“I would never do that.”
“Good,” she said with a smile and leaned closer to me. “And you weren't that much of an idiot.”
“That is very comforting,” I muttered.
“Don’t worry, I still love you,” she said and kissed me.
That was all that I wanted to hear.
Kenzie
I picked up the empty wine bottle after I refilled my and Sophia’s wine glasses for the seventh time and frowned. “Hey, Soph?”
“Yeah?” she answered from the living room.
“Where did all the wine go?” I asked.
“It’s being jigested.” Obviously, she meant digested, but after drinking seven glasses of wine, it all sounded the same.
“Hopefully it’s coming back,” I said and walked to the couch with the two glasses.
“It always comes back,” she said with a chuckle and took a glass from me. “Cheers, my bestie.”
“Cheers to you.”
“It’s so nice to hang out with you and get drunk. It feels like I don't see you nearly enough these days,” Sophia said and drank her wine.
“I know. Work has been busy, and-”
“And you’ve been busy with Wyatt. I get it.”
“Now you know how I felt when you were dating what’s-his-name,” I pointed out.
“Hm, what’s-his-name. He was something.”
“Something else rather,” I muttered.
“Anyway, let’s not talk about boys anymore. They’re stupid.”
“Okay,” I said and scooted down on the couch, getting comfortable. “Have you ever heard of Santa Rosa Beach?”
“That’s on highway 30A, right?”
“Right.”
“I’ve heard about it. Apparently, it’s really beautiful and peaceful. Why?”
“Wyatt asked me to go with him to his beach house this weekend.”
“And are you going?”
“Yeah, I mean it would be nice to get away, even if it's just for the weekend.”
“Especially with your boy, Wyatt.”
“That too.”
“Can I ask you something personal?” Sophia asked a bit hesitantly.
“Soph, you’re my best friend. Since when do you ask if you can ask inappropriate questions?”
“Since I can see that you’re totally in love. I don't want to overstep any boundaries or anything.”
“It’s fine, you can ask me anything.”
“Okay, so you told me that he has OCD, right?”
“Right?”
“How does that work?”
“What do you mean?”
“With sex. Is it different because he has OCD?” she asked. “Because I am kind of surprised that he is even having sex with you. Not that you aren't sexually appealing, or anything.”
I frowned at her and shook my head.
“What I am trying to say is, sex is intimate and gross and there are part of his going into you, and-”
“Okay, hold up for a second.”
“See, I told you I didn't want to step on your sexy toes.”
“It’s fine. You make a good point though, Soph. I guess I didn't really think about it that way.”
“Because if he’s grossed out by dirt and fingerprints and germs and whatever else it is that gets him freaked out, wouldn't sex be any different? Does he wear gloves?”
I looked at her for a second before bursting out into a fit of hysterical laughter. Sophia looked at me as if I had gone completely insane and crossed her arms, waiting impatiently for me to stop laughing.
“No, he does not wear gloves. Not on his hands at least,” I chuckled.
“Okay, forget I asked,” Sophia said and held her hands up in defeat.
“You asked.”
“No, I was still getting to my actual question.”
“Okay, I’m listening.”
“How does it go? Do you guys shower first, do it on a plastic sheet for easy cleaning, or is he a rebel and does it on the couch?”
I chuckled and shook my head. “No, Soph.”
“Okay, clearly you don't want to share, but tell me this, is it different?”
“Very.”
“Okay,” she said and looked at me expectantly.
“It’s so much better because it’s not just sex. It’s an expression of love and passion.”
“So he doesn't fuck your brains out?” she asked dryly.
“He doesn't have to, it’s that good.”
“Wow,” she cringed. “I am totally jealous. No wonder you’re in such a good mood all the time.”
I chuckled again and shook my head. “I’m just happy, Soph.”
“I can see that, and I couldn't be happier for you, Kenzie.”
“Thank you.”
“SO what is his brother like?”
“Oh god, no!” I exclaimed. “Let me tell you this, he doesn't even come close.”
“And how do you know?”
“Because I feel it.”
“I also want to feel it,” she pouted.
“You will.”
“Yeah, that’s what they all say,” she pouted.
I put my arm around my best friend and hugged her. “Love you, Soph.”
“You better love me.”
“Of course I do. Without you, I am just half a person.”
“Ah, that was almost sweet.”
I planted a big kiss on her cheek and she squirmed away. “Enough with the emotional stuff. Can we watch some music videos now?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you,” she said and pressed play on the remote.
Ever since we were in high school and the whole world exploded with the boy band phenomenon, we made it our mission to know every single word of the lyrics and every single dance move that was on their videos. Maybe that was why we were so slim in high school. It was all that dancing and bopping around in our living rooms.
So, for us to still be dancing to the exact same steps nearly fifteen years later, and still knowing all the lyrics by heart, was a tremendous achievement. After about ten songs, though, we collapsed on the couch. We weren't as young as were back then.
“Shit, I feel old.”
“That’s because we are,” I panted.
“I think we should run more.”
“No, I think we should drink more,” I suggested.”
“That,” she said and pointed a finger at me, “is the best idea you’ve had today.”
“Just today?”
“Maybe this month.”
I chuckled and watched as she stood up from the couch to the kitchen. “Kenzie, the wine is missing!”
“I know, I told you!”
“What are we going to do now?” she asked and placed her hands on her hips.
“We could go get some more?”
“Or you can call Wyatt, and he can bring us some wine.”
“Can I do that?”
“Of course you can. He’s your boyfriend, that’s what they’re there for.”
I frowned but grabbed my phone. I quickly dialed his number and waited for him to answer.
“Hey,” he answered.
“Hey babe,”
“Are you okay?”
“I have never been better. I’m just here with Sophia at my apartment and we have a bit of a problem.”
“What’s going on?”
“Our wine is finished, and we’re pretty smashed, so we don’t want to drive to the store to get some.”
“Kenzie, you’re drunk?”
“We both are, right Soph?”
“Totally,” Sophia replied.
“Okay, I’ll be there in a bit.”
He hung up before I could say anything else and I looked at Sophia. “He’s on his way.”
“Did you tell him what wine we want?” she asked and I looked at her with a frown
“He didn't ask.”
Wyatt
I wasn't exactly thrilled when Kenzie called me and told me that she was smashed – as she gallantly referred to it – with her best friend Sophia, but at least she had some sense not to get into a car in that state. I rushed out of my house and quickly drove to her apartment building. I heard her music as I reached the door and knocked.
I heard cheering inside and the door opened. “Hey, babe.”
“Hey,” I greeted her and stepped inside.
“Hey, Wyatt!” Sophia called out to me and I waved at her on the couch.
“Where’s the wine?” Kenzie asked and looked at me.
I closed the door and turned to her. “I didn't bring any.”
“What? Why?”
I glanced around the apartment briefly and eventually spotted the seven empty bottles of wine on the kitchen counter. “Because I think you’ve had more than enough.”
“What are you talking about, Wyatt?” Sophia asked and sat up on the couch.
“You’ve had seven bottles.”
“Yeah, but that was between the two of us. We didn't each have seven bottles,” Kenzie said and placed her hands on her hips.
“I think you’ve had enough,” I answered sternly.
“Don’t be so boring, Wyatt,” Sophia pointed out.
“Like I haven't heard that before, thanks, Sophia.”
Sophia gave me a sarcastic thumbs up and I obviously knew that she was drunk out of her skull, hence the personality shift.
I was in her company a few times when Kenzie invited her along, and she was a really nice girl. She had a good head on her shoulders when she was sober, so it didn't really surprise me that she became a little aggressive when she was drunk. It was normal, I’m guessing.
Especially since I was being a party-pooper and didn't bring any more alcohol.
“She doesn't mean that,” Kenzie said to me and tilted her head.
“I know.”
Sophia stood up and walked over to me and Kenzie. “So, I’m guessing that the party is over, right?”
“I’m going to have to say yes because one more drink and you’re both going to be sick,” I answered confidently.
“And we wouldn't want that,” Kenzie said, pointing her finger in the air.
I called a taxi for Sophia because she was in no state to drive. After I escorted her out the building and made sure she was safely in her taxi, I went back upstairs. I stepped into the apartment and it was quiet. Too quiet. I walked to the hallway and found Kenzie sitting on the tiles in front of the toilet, rocking slightly from side to side.
“Are you okay?” I asked and knelt down beside her.
“I feel a little sick,” she admitted.
“That’s normal for the amount of alcohol you consumed,” I pointed out.
“It didn't feel like that much,” she muttered and ran her fingers through her hair.
“It never does.”
“You probably think I am stupid for getting so drunk.”
“It’s not the smartest thing that you’ve ever done.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course,” I answered and rubbed her back.
“Have you ever done anything stupid?”
“Define stupid.”
“Irresponsible. Reckless.”
“I have.”
“Really?”
“You don't believe me?”
“Not really. You’re the epitome of responsibility.”
I chuckled in amusement and shook my head.
“Was it something you regret?”
“Honestly, it’s one of my biggest regrets.”
“What happened?” she asked and looked at me.
“When I was in high school, I struggled to concentrate, so I would usually sit in my father’s Jeep to study because it was quiet.”
“Why didn't you just study in your room?”
“Calvin’s room was right next to mine and his music bothered me.”
“Why didn't you just ask him to turn it down?”
“It wasn't the volume of the music. It was the actual music. He had terrible taste in music.”
She frowned at me but nodded. "Oh, yeah, I remember now. You don't like noise."
"Right," I said with a nod, rather impressed that she remembered that. “Anyway, I was done the one afternoon, and when I wanted to go inside, I realized Calvin had locked me out of the house.”
“Why did he do that?”
“Because he was a stupid asshole.”
“What do you mean was?”
My jaw clenched and I nodded. She wasn't wrong. Calvin was an asshole at the best of times.
“So what did you do?”
“I went to the back door, which had a glass panel in the middle, lost my temper and I punched my hand through the glass,” I explained and I could practically feel the stinging, burning pain in my wrist. It had been about eighteen years, but the memories were still so vivid to me.
“Why was that the biggest mistake of your life?”
“I damaged my wrist and my ligaments pretty badly and had to have surgery. I was out for at least six months doing any sports. I lost my scholarship to Boston University because I wasn't healed up.”
“That’s terrible,” she said and I noticed her slumped shoulders. “I’m so sorry.”
“So am I.”
“Can I see it?” she asked me.
“My scar?”
“Yeah, but only if you want to.”
I shrugged and held out my hand to her. The scars were on my right wrist, and it looked kind of like five long scratch marks.
“It looks like you were attacked by Wolverine or something,” she pointed out nonchalantly.
“One day I’ll tell my kids that version of the story,” I said and laughed bitterly.
She ran her fingers along the faint lines. “I like them.”
“Why?” I asked, slightly taken aback by her comment.
“It makes you who you are,” she answered.
“I guess it does.”
“Do you ever wonder what your life would have been like if you didn't put your fist through that glass?” she asked me.
“I used to, all the time. I could have been a professional hockey player, doing what I loved most.”
“When did you stop wondering?”
“The moment I kissed you.”
She frowned and shrugged her shoulders, wanting more of an explanation.
“If I didn't put my fist through that glass, I never would have stayed in Miami, and I would never have met you.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Wow,” she whispered.
“What?”
“That was kind of reckless and irresponsible.”
“I know.”
“Very unexpected of someone like you,” she said and looked at me.
“I’m only human, you know.”
“And here I thought you were indestructible and impenetrable.”
“You managed to get in my head,” I said and smiled. “And in my heart. That is saying a lot.”
She placed her hand lovingly against my cheek and smiled at me. “Thank you, for sharing this with me.”
“You’re right though, it is a part of me, and it makes me who I am today. Without it, it would have probably been the most arrogant hotshot hockey player in the world.”
“Two out of three isn't that bad, you know,” she said with a wink.
Even in her drunken state, she was still the wittiest woman I knew.
I loved her so much.