Page 35 of Faking Forever
It had been so long since she’d done that.
She registered with a pang of renewed pain and regret that she would never be allowed access to that spot again and jerked her head back from the temptation just inches away from her mouth.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Not really.” Her voice was small, high-pitched, and nasally with tears.
God, she needed to get her shit together. Because falling apart wasn’t going to change anything and only result in humiliation for her.
“Pain really bad?”
“Yes,” she whispered, happy to have an excuse for the tears glowing in her eyes. He needn’t ever know that she was referencing a different pain entirely.
“Then let’s get you inside and get some ibuprofen in you.”
“Thank you.” This time she did drop her head on his shoulder, allowing herself a small, selfish moment of comfort. Just for an instant.
“Gonna to put you down for a sec, okay? Need to unlock.”
“I can walk from here,” she said.
“Sure,” he agreed, before unlocking the door and then picking her right back up.
Instead of wasting her energy and breath on protestations that would fall on deaf ears, Kenny’s eyes tracked around the interior of the small cottage in lively curiosity.
“This is really…” She pursed her lips, thinking for a moment, before settling on, “Cute.”
“Yeah, I think the local vet owns it. Was the only place available, because it’s usually reserved for long-term rentals. But Tina and the vet are friends.” He shrugged. “Tina and Harris did offer me one of their spare rooms, but since I’ll be here for a while, I figured it was better to rent a place for a few months.”
“Exactly how long do you plan on staying?”
He didn’t reply as he unceremoniously plonked her down onto the sofa.
“Oh my God, Smith! No. I’m filthy.” She started to get up, but he planted a firm hand on her shoulder.
“Stay right there,” he commanded.
“At least get a towel for the sofa.” She stared at the impractical blush-colored upholstery. Who had a pale pink sofa? In a property they rented out to random strangers?
Kenny cringed, knowing she was smearing a combination of sweat and red dust onto the pretty seat.
“Don’t move, I’ll get a towel if it bugs you that much.”
He retreated and, unable to comply with the dictatorial demand that she remain seated when sheknewshe was ruining the sofa, Kenny leaped up, careful not to place weight on her injured foot.
Smith reappeared seconds later. His lips thinned when he saw her, but he thankfully made no comment as he draped the bath sheet over the seat and the back of the couch.
Kenny sat before he could tell her to. He sat down next toher and made a twirling gesture with his index finger.
His meaning was unmistakable and knowing that it would be best to just comply at this point, Kenny swung sideways.
He wrapped a capable hand around her right ankle and guided it into his lap.
“Your—”
“Don’t say it,” he cautioned. “My jeans can withstand a little bit of dirt.”
She clamped her lips around the protest and dropped her chin as her gaze fell on the large hand still curled around her ankle. His touch burned into her skin and Kenny resisted the urge to squirm.
