Kennedy reemerged in a dress that accentuated her long legs. And those worn boots looked perfect on her. “I’m running late,” she said. “I’ll have to skip breakfast this morning.”
“Nonsense.” Mrs. Alcaraz slid an omelet onto a plate for Kennedy. “You eat your breakfast.”
Kennedy made a funny face at me, then grabbed her plate and sat down. She started eating as quickly as possible. That seemed like the go-ahead on mine. I took one bite and it was so spicy that I could feel my throat closing up. I’d eaten here dozens of times when I was in high school. And never had Mrs. Alcaraz tried to kill me. I started coughing into my hand.
Mrs. Alcaraz laughed at the stove.
“Mama, did you put extra spices in his?” Kennedy scolded and grabbed a container of milk out of the fridge. She poured me a glass and handed it to me. “Drink that.” She turned back to her mom as I downed half the glass. “It was my fault. We fell asleep watching a movie. Nothing happened.”
“No boys sleep over,” Mrs. Alcaraz said.
“It wasn’t a sleepover. It was an accident. And it was my fault.”
Sweet hell. What was in that omelet? A whole cayenne pepper? I downed half the glass of milk.
“No boys,” Mrs. Alcaraz said.
Kennedy sighed. “Yes, Mama.”
“I’m so sorry,” Kennedy said to me. “You okay?”
I finished the milk and nodded. “Yes,” I croaked.
Kennedy laughed.
“It’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny.” She couldn’t even hide her smile.
Which made me smile too.
“Here.” She swapped plates with me and devoured the rest of my poisoned omelet in record time.
I was very impressed. How was she not crying? I was pretty sure I’d cried after one bite. But the omelet her mom had made for her was significantly more palatable than mine.
Mrs. Alcaraz sat down at the table with her own omelet. “Lo siento,” she said and patted my cheek. “Now off to work. Both of you.”
Kennedy kissed her mom on the cheek before grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the door. She laughed as we ran through the hallway. I had no idea why we were running. But for some reason we kept going. Like we were escaping.
“I’m so so sorry, Matt,” she said as we hurried down the stairs. “She has a no boys rule when it comes to sleepovers. And obviously we’re just friends so we didn’t break it. But…” her voice got stuck in her throat when I stopped her on the stairs.
“Just friends?”
She blinked up at me. “Yes?”
“I remember everything about last night.” I took a step toward her.
She swallowed hard. “You do?”
I leaned forward slowly.
“I’m pretty sure you’re still drunk,” Kennedy said.
“I swear I’m not. A little hungover. And your mom tried to poison me…but I’m not drunk.”
“It was just a little spicy.”
“A little?”
She laughed and put her hand on my chest. “We both know that you’ll regret it if you kiss me.”
I drew a fraction of an inch closer. “I won’t.”
She seemed to realize I was serious now. “I’m not a temporary fix, Matt.”
“I know that.”
“Do you? Because I’m not so sure. You said you remember last night. Do you remember what you said to me? That you’re not sure if you could love anyone else…”
My lips collided with hers.
Her hand was still pressed against my chest. For a second I thought she was going to shove me away. But instead, her hand crept up my chest to the side of my neck, pulling me closer.
It should have felt wrong. But it didn’t. It felt anything but wrong. So didn’t that make it right?
But then she did shove me away.
“God, what am I doing?” She started blinking fast. “I can’t believe I just kissed you. I can’t believe you just kissed me. I have to go.” She started running down the steps.
“Kennedy!”
She didn’t stop, so I ran after her. She pushed through the doors of the apartment building, blasting us with the cool autumn air. The smell of fallen leaves always reminded me of Brooklyn. But for the first time in a long time, Brooklyn wasn’t the one on my mind.
I grabbed Kennedy’s hand as she tried to hail a cab. “I don’t know how to be okay with her gone,” I said. “I’ve spent the last 16 years trying to be. It’s true, I’m a fucking mess.”
She was blinking away tears. “Matt…”
“But I know you’re not a temporary fix.” I reached out and touched the side of her face. “What if you’re the cure?”
“I can’t fix you. I’m barely standing after…”
I kissed her again. Because anything I said wasn’t helping. But she had to feel this. She had to.
And again she kissed me back.
Her lips tasted salty from her tears. And all I knew was that this flavor was way better than anything in that ice cream container. I’d been right.
The soft moan escaping from her lips nearly drove me insane. I wanted her. I wanted to fucking rip her clothes off and take her right here in the middle of the sidewalk. I wanted to know what it would sound like for her to moan my name.
Instead, I just kept kissing her. And kissing her. And kissing her. I wasn’t sure whether it was for a few seconds or a few minutes. But I kept my hands firmly planted on her hips. I needed her to know that I wasn’t a shmuck like Cupcake. I needed her to know that I meant what I said. That I thought this was the real deal. That maybe we could both be okay.
Her fingers dug into the back of my neck, begging me for more. Fuck.
She felt it too.
God, I needed her. How long had I been waiting to feel like this again?
I could tell Kennedy needed this too. She needed me. And it had been a really long fucking time since I’d felt needed.
I pulled away before I accidentally did try to fuck her in the middle of a busy sidewalk.
She opened her mouth and then closed it again, tears still on her flushed cheeks.
“Come to my practice today.” I wiped her tears away with my thumbs.
“What?”
“Come to Empire High. I want to show you that you’re not stuck. That we’re allowed to live outside those walls.”
“Matt…”
“Do you trust me?”
She nodded.
“3 o’clock, okay?” I reached out my hand and hailed a taxi.
“That was stupid fast,” she said as a taxi pulled to a stop right away.
I laughed and opened the door for her.
For a second, the silence between us felt awkward. Did she regret the first kiss? The second? Both? Had I pushed her too far? I never wanted her to feel the way she had with Cupcake. Fuck. She’d told me it was a bad idea…
“I might be a little late,” she said. “I have a photo shoot at 1:30, and the client always runs over.”
“That’s fine. Practice doesn’t end until 5.”
“Okay.”
I smiled. “Okay then.”
She smiled back before climbing into the taxi.
I wanted to do some kind of victory dance as the taxi sped off. But my phone buzzed in my pocket. First I had to deal with Tanner.