Page 109 of Demo
Kennedy greets her with a few licks to the face, then turns back to scratching under the fridge.
She stands back up, placing her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, and my eyes stay fixed on her ass.Are those new jeans? Are they date jeans? Is she wearing them because she wants her butt to look good for someone?
It’s quiet for a minute, and then I look up to see Lizzie caught me staring at her backside.
“Sorry,” I say as I turn away from her grinning face. But then I whip back toward her. “Actually, I’m not sorry. Your ass looks fantastic in those jeans! Are they new? Are they date jeans?”
Lizzie eyes bulge and her lip quirks up like Elvis. “Date jeans?” she says quietly, like she’s trying the words out on her tongue.
“Yeah,” I cross my arms over my chest. “As in, are you wearing jeans that make your butt look good for a date? That you were on today? Tonight? Ergo, date jeans.”
I watch realization dawn across Lizzie’s face before it softens. “Are you jealous, Knox? Is that what this is? You think I just came back from a date?” I don’t have to answer, she knows she’s right. And with that revelation, she throws her head back and laughs.
“Yeah, eat it up,” I say as I run a hand through my hair and grip the back of my neck. “You still didn’t answer the question.”
She slows her laughter, then it stops altogether, and she pierces me with a glare that goes straight through my eyes, into my brain, down my torso, my arms, my legs and to all my nerve endings throughout my whole body. “How does it feel?” she asks. And she doesn’t have to elaborate, because I know exactly what she’s asking.
I freeze for just a moment, trying to decide which way to take this, then figure, fuck it.
In three long strides I’m in her face backing her up against the kitchen counter without even touching her, and she’s wide-eyed and breathing heavily in my face. I place my hands on the counter on either side of her as I dip down so we are eye level. I can see the burning fire in her eyes. Hatred, for sure. But there’s something else there. Something I can’t quite put my finger on, but something familiar. So I’ll take that and run with it for as far as it’ll take me.
“How does it feel?” I repeat her words. “It fucking sucks, Lizzie. It feels like …” I tuck my lips between my teeth and squint my eyes as I try to come up with the words. Then I spit them out. “It feels like I’m standing buck naked on the surface of the sun while this mutt over here has my balls clenched between his teeth, and the whole world is watching as I am stripped and scorched and baring every insecurity for all to see. And I don’t even care about clothes or water or anything else as long as you tell me right now that there’s nobody else. That there hasn’t been anyone since me. That there will never be anyone but me.”
Lizzie is panting in front of me, her eyes cast down at the floor.
Softer, I ask, “Has there, Lizzie? Been anyone else?” I look at her mouth, but she doesn’t answer. “Has anyone else’s lips been here?” I reach up and trace a thumb over the outline of her lips. “Hmm?”
I trail that thumb down to her chin and tilt it up, so she’s forced to look at me. “These are mine, baby,” and I tug her bottom lip down with the same thumb. “And I know you’re not ready, yet, but I’m going to claim them back some day. I just need you to not go sharing them with anyone else while we work our shit out, OK?”
I slide my hand up her jaw and cup the side of her face. I want to kiss her so badly it hurts, but I can tell from the look on her face that she can’t. She can’t kiss me, yet. So I won’t push it.
Instead, I back up and give her space, which I know she wants. And maybe it’s still what she needs. My ass hits the island, and I let out a sigh. We stare at each other for a long minute before Lizzie finally breaks the silence. “You should probably go.”
I nod. “Yeah. You’re right.” Pushing off against the countertop, I make my way toward the door. “So, uh, how are you going to get to work tomorrow, since your car is … missing?”
Lizzie is behind me as I open the door. “I’ll call Dee and see if she can take me to the shop in the morning.”
“The shop?” I stop just after crossing the threshold to the hallway and turn to look at her. “Did it break down?”
She looks at me while gathering her hair in her hands and pulling it all to one side. “A flat.”
“And you called AAA? Why didn’t they just put the spare on for you?”
She’s looking at her feet while playing with her hair, then she brings her mane in front of her mouth as she mumbles something.
“Huh?” I ask, putting a hand behind my ear.
Lizzie sighs, then concedes. “I don’t have a spare.”
“What? Why not? You said you’d stop and get a new one the last time you had a flat.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I forgot!” She throws her hands up in the air. “You know, I’ve had a lot going on up in here, lately,” and she spins her pointer finger around her temple. “So I’m sorry if I’ve been a little, oh, I don’t know … distracted!”
And that’s my cue. Throwing my own hands up in the air I turn and head toward the stairs. “I know—my fault,” I say dryly. “Just another thing that’s my fault.”
“Oh, great. You’re a martyr now,” I hear her call down behind me.
“Yep, that’s me!” I reply, then turn when I get to the bottom of the stairwell and look up at her standing at the top, arms crossed over her chest, hip checked to the side. “Seriously, I can come give you a ride. What time do you work tomorrow?”
