Kenzie placed her hands on her hips, the action doing nothing to deter me from talking more. “I’d ask how you are, but since you’re here and I have two eyes, I can see you’re doing a lot better than…” My voice trailed off as I thought about the last time I had seen her on that rooftop.
I never thought she was suicidal, and had tried my best to break up those rumors as they made their way like fire through the rumor mill at Spencer Academy in the weeks that had followed that fateful day. She had been fragile, but I’d been the one to break her into pieces. That realization stayed with me for the remainder of the year, even being a driving factor in my moving across the country to play ball. Everyone had known what I’d done; the stigma of nearly driving a girl to her death suffocated me.
At Stanford, no one knew me or what I’d done. In many ways, I’d been able to reinvent myself. Some things were harder to shed, however, and my love of partying and women were a few of them. I’d never taken another dare or bet when it came to them, even though others had tried once or twice to get me to change my mind. Guilt over breaking Kenzie made sure that I never reneged on that. I did continue to treat women as the sex objects I considered them, but I made sure to let them know what to expect up front, so there were no misunderstandings.
“I’ve never been better, so if you’ll excuse me,” she said as she tried to move around me.
On instinct, I blocked her path. “So, you’re a chef?”
The answer was obvious, but I found myself wanting to be in her company for a little while longer. I’d never known how fucked up I had been back then until I’d started talking to her in high school. We’d confided a number of things in one another, and that’d been something I’d never been able to do with another woman since, which likely explained the string of one-night stands. Most of my issues revolved around the fact that I’d been living in my brother’s shadow, and as I thought about Logan, in a way, I supposed I still was.
“Yes,” she replied quickly, then attempted to sidestep me on the other side.
Blocking that maneuver as well, I just kept talking, hoping some of the small talk would settle her enough to stay a little while longer. “Are you married? Kids?”
I had known both things had been goals of hers, Kenzie often mentioning them when we were alone together. In her locker, I’d even found the notebook where she’d scribbled our names together. Mackenzie Courtland. It’d been another dagger to my chest when I realized exactly how successfully I had duped her.
“Maybe,” she said, before adding, “not that it’s any of your business.”
With that response, I looked down at both hands, none of which contained any sort of ring. She could have children, but without marriage? I doubted it. She was a minister’s daughter, and as such, her father had instilled certain values in her, and I doubted she’d stray far from them again. “Liar.”
Her eyes raised to mine, and there now burned a fire I’d never seen before. Kenzie squared her shoulders, but otherwise seemed completely unaffected. “That’s like the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think?”
“Boyfriend?” I asked. I would’ve liked to think I was simply making conversation, but the truth was that it was more than idle curiosity. My hard dick confirmed that.
“Again, it’s none of your business,” she answered as she peered over my shoulder.
A slight noise behind us caused me to turn, and when I did, Kenzie managed to get away. The culprit was the woman in red that she’d been talking to earlier and I watched as the two hurried back inside. I almost followed, but didn’t. Instead, I turned to look out at the same view she’d been captivated by when I first stepped outside.
What were the odds that I’d run into the one girl I’d never been able to completely forget? And one so integral to my growth as a man who now despised the very air I breathed? I couldn’t blame her in the slightest. What I’d done back to her in high school had been horrible. It’d started out as a game, something I considered so harmless, but had turned into a life-altering moment. It was then I realized the targets had changed, but little else had. I was still the same sick fuck I’d ever been, and it was enlightening in a way.
“I’m sorry, Kenzie,” I said out loud. For years after I’d left Houston, I’d wanted nothing more than to apologize for everything. It’d been a foreign concept for me and not something I had ever wanted to do before, or after, her. Now, I had my chance to do that, and if she’d let me, I’d even prove I was sincere.
I finally turned around and reentered the room, my eyes going immediately to where she stood with her dark-haired friend. Both had full glasses of champagne and as I made my way farther into the space, Kenzie’s friend looked at me and smirked. She then raised her glass, and I shook my head. There was no telling what Kenzie had told her about me. I had every intention of going over to them, but it was time for me to talk about CHG Seaport. Heading in the opposite direction, I stepped onto the platform in front of the large drop screen with my hotel on it.
I then forced myself to forget her for now, and took a few seconds to test out the microphone. When I finally got it working, I cleared my throat which got the attention of everyone in the room. “Good evening. My name’s Jonas Courtland, and I’m with the Courtland Hospitality Group.”