Although the way I’d been fucking with his attempts to sell the house painted a completely different picture. For the past few months, I’d been occasionally dressing up to look like a country bumpkin, including an array of props Kennedy and her dad had let me set out in the back yard by the gate to my dad’s house. A little creative networking got me access to his realtor’s showing schedule, so I was able to be present, glaring in my ridiculous costume at almost every potential buyer he had.
He’d sell the place eventually, but I got to be a thorn in his side, which was more than good enough for me. I guess having Kennedy to myself and even her goofy ass dad went a long way towards showing me there was more to life than revenge. It wasn’t always perfect, but it was mine, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
I stopped outside her class, moving in front of her chair. “You got everything you need?”
“Hm. Condoms?” she suggested.
I glared. “You think you’re funny, Wheels. But when you get me jealous, all it does is make me think I need to fuck the mischief out of you.”
“Hmm. Darn. I totally forgot how every time I so much as make you the slightest bit jealous you force me to have wild, crazy sex the next chance you get. How could I be so forgetful.”
I bent down to kiss her. It didn’t matter how many times I felt her lips on mine. Every time was just as sweet. Just as real. It was like having your favorite meal at your favorite restaurant—like knowing it wouldn’t matter where you traveled or what happened—that you would always crave it. Always want it.
I guess the difference was that I probably wouldn’t try to murder someone who ordered my favorite meal at my favorite restaurant.* * *