Page 73 of Danger

I don’t answer.

He continues. “Y’all messing around again?”

I wash my hands. “None of your fucking business, Kennedy.”

He studies me. “And would it beyourbusiness if I was fuckin’ her?” The glint in his eye is all talk, not real interest. “Doesn’t hurt to have a little upcoming movie star on the roster.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you do.”

His brows lift, curious. “Find that hard to believe.”

“Nah, have fun with that circus,” I tell him, almost gentle. “But just so you know, I taught her everything she knows.”

He drops his voice to a dirty rasp. “That right? And what about that pretty little thing you been seen with lately? Little redhead. You care if I take her home tonight instead, show her what a Kennedy is all about?”

Heat floods my chest so fast my jaw tightens like it’s been wired shut.

Don’t do it, Danger. Don’t kill him on Trouble’s night.

I turn for the door. It’s the smart play. The adult one, telling myself to let it go, to be the bigger man for once.

"I'll treat her real nice.” His smile widens. "At least the first time."

Then he hits the soap dispenser above the sink behind me. The sound is small, but it flips a switch. And it drives me insane—because he shouldn’t be able to just go on with his day, wash his hands like he didn’t just spit that foul shit about Winnie.

I stop with my hand on the doorframe.

So much for being the better man.

I turn around and swing. Fist meets nose. The crack echoes. He rocks back against the wall, blood running down from a nostril, eyes shining with that crazy edge.

“That’s what I thought,” Kennedy says, voice shredded, like he likes the taste of his own blood. “Oughta be careful now that I know what sets you off. Stay off my land. Next time I’ll use the redhead to make my point clear.”

I wipe my knuckles on my shirt. “Go fuck yourself.”

The bathroom door swings open as I step into the hallway. Fisher’s standing there holding a juice cup.

“Holy crap, what happened to that guy in there?”

“He slipped. Hit his face on the urinal,” I say. “Tip of the day. Be careful where you piss.”

Fisher snickers. “Yikes. Well, food’s ready. Nana says she and I gotta leave after dessert.” He sighs dramatically. “I wanted to stay long enough to see Uncle Ryder do his two-step.”

I pat him on the back. “You’ll get plenty more chances for that.”

He shrugs and takes off toward the long tables that have been decorated and set up for Sawyer and Trouble on the back patio of the bar. I fall in step beside him.

“One day,” he says casually, “when a girl takes my last name, I don’t want fancy dinners like this. I just want pizza and video games.”

I glance down at him. “That sounds like a solid plan.” Then I add, quieter, “Just remember—her taking your name doesn’t mean you get to keep her.”

He looks up at me, forehead wrinkling. “It doesn’t?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You gotta earn it. Every day. Be kind. Pay attention.”

He thinks about that for a second, then nods. “Whatever you say.”

I look past him as he sits, my gaze catching on Winnie, laughing with one of the locals. Every bone in my body feels drawn to her lately. Everytime I kiss her, I want more. Things feel more natural than they should. All that should be a good thing. It’s not.