Page 119 of Faking Forever
“Uh…nothing. My point is, you’re married, it’s a no harm, no foul situation.”
“It was an intimate moment between my wife and I,” Smith choked out. “Kenna’s intensely private, and she’s going tohatethis. Can we have it taken down?”
The brothers exchanged glances and Greyson’s mouth tightened. He shook his head slightly, his expression sympathetic.
“Smith, you know that’s not how the internet works,” Harris told him. “It’s been shared thousands of times across platforms. It’s taken on a life of its own.”
“Why would anyonecare? It was just a kiss. But it wasours. Ours alone. Our moment.”
“I’m so sorry, man,” Harris muttered, squeezing his shoulder.
Smith looked up, and saw Kenny leaning forward to listento something Clara was telling her. She was smiling at the little girl, and nodded when the toddler took her hand.
Smith’s heart turned to warm goo when Kenny followed Clara to the little plastic table in the corner of the room where Piper and Flopsy, the dog, were already seated. She gracefully folded her tall, lithe body almost in half to sit down on one of the tiny chairs.
She was wearing another one of those pretty summer jumpsuits, dark blue, with flowy wide legs, and off-the-shoulder sleeves. She’d kicked off her shoes at some point and her bare toes peeked out from beneath trouser legs that—without the heels she’d been wearing—pooled around feet.
He wasn’t sure how she was going to react to this news. He didn’t want her upset or humiliated.
He raked a hand through his hair and focused on Grey.
“I’ll sue the bastard who filmed it in the first place.”
“He’s just a kid with a laptop, man,” Greyson said. “One of Spencer’s youth center teens. It’s Spencer’s way of keeping him involved in the matches. Lukhanyo—the boy—is frail and bedbound. So he monitors the cameras and manages the live stream from his home. Bright kid.”
Smith screwed his eyes shut in frustration.
“If it’s any consolation,” Harris ventured tentatively, “the reactions have all been overwhelmingly positive.”
“It’s not,” Smith said with a scowl. “It was nobody’s business.”
“I get that, but you were kissing her in a very public space, Smith.”
“No fucking privacy in the goddamn world anymore,” Smith griped with a resigned shake of his head. His eyes drifted to Kenna again, and despite his agitation, a soft, helpless smile tugged at his lips. Piper had curled up in Kenna’s lap, a sippy cup in her mouth, and seemed to be dozing off. One ofthe toddler’s plump hands was wrapped around a strand of Kenna’s hair.
Kenna ignored the baby’s hair pulling and appeared to be in the middle of an earnest conversation with Clara.
To Smith’s delight, she picked up a little plastic teacup and took a sip and then winced and lift a hand to fan her tongue. Clara went off into gales of laughter and then exaggeratedly showed Kenna how to blow over the cup to cool down the imaginary tea. He had never seen her around small children before, but had always assumed she would be awkward as hell. Instead, she appeared to be genuinely enjoying herself.
She looked up unexpectedly, a smile on her face, laughter in her eyes, and caught him watching. Her smile transformed into a naughty grin and then she shocked the hell out of him when she playfully crossed her eyes, sucked in her cheeks, and puckered her lips.
Smith couldn’t contain a sharp, surprised chuckle, and then had to beat back bitter disappointment when Piper wriggled in her arms and distracted her from him.
Seeing her like this, so relaxed, clearly happy, enjoying every moment without reservation or trace of self-consciousness, was immensely gratifying. And it only brought home how truly tense, sad, likely depressed, and closed-off she’d been during their marriage.
Yes, Kenna wasn’t all sunshine and laughter all the time, and Smith was realistic enough to know that the quiet reserve would always be a huge part of her personality. She would need moments of introspection, moments when she’d rather be alone with her thoughts.
But there was alsothisside of her. The side she showed only when she felt comfortable and safe. Smith decided it washisjob to ensure that she always felt free to be herself.
Reticent, uncommunicative, withdrawn, goofy, sweet, warm, adorable, and absolutely perfectKenna.
Every part of her was singular and beautiful and Smith wouldn’t have her any other way.
“Those potatoes aren’t going to peel themselves, Smith,” Harris’s unwelcome voice intruded right in his ear and Smith whipped his head around to pin his friend with a dark stare.
Harris grinned unrepentantly and shoved the loathsome potato peeler into Smith’s hand.
“Back to work, bud.”
