Kennedy’s dark waves fall over her shoulder as she sits in her executive chair. Mom keeps cooing about us growing a sister bond, but I never quite know what to say to Kennedy. We don’t exactly have much in common. She’s spent her entire life at boarding school and prepping to rule the world. The closest I’ve come to either of those are college courses in the town over to help me get into Princeton and perfecting a top-knot without a mirror.
Luckily, Kennedy does me a favor and starts clicking around on her mouse, seeming to dismiss me. With an hour to kill before my shift at the pool bar, I cross to Knox’s desk for the schedules I need to finish.
“Hey, Leighton,” Kennedy says.
I stop behind his desk, and she shrugs her shoulders.
“It’s not the worst thing, you know…falling for someone you shouldn’t.”
“Kennedy, I—”
“We don’t get to pick who does it for us.” She sits back in her chair, one side of her mouth curving into a smile. “The heart wants what it wants. So, why bother fighting it?”
Since she saw us on the security camera, I see no reason to pretend I’m not following her. “Even if your heart wants your stepbrother?”
“It’s not like you and Knox grew up together as siblings. You two haven’t shared holidays or birthday cakes. He’s never even been like a brother to you, right?”
I shake my head. Of all the things I’ve felt for Knox—anger, frustration, lust, love—I’ve never once looked at him as brotherly.
“You’re two consenting adults,” Kennedy says. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“And the fact I’m a townie?”
She waves that one off with a perfectly manicured hand, like she’s made her point and moving on. “So what? Obviously Knox doesn’t care about that.”
“If you don’t think everyone around here will think I’m a townie trying to trap an ivy to get out of the Heights, then—”
“Oh, everyone will think it. They’ll probably treat you like shit because of it too.”
“They already are,” I say dryly. “But thanks for the reassurance.”
She sighs deeply. “My point is, you don’t need to screw your way up when you’re a Cabot because you’re already at the top. You might not have the name, but the second Daddy slid that rock on Sidney’s finger, you got the rest of the package. So, act like a Cabot and stop giving a fuck what everyone else thinks. And if they still have a problem with it, fire them.”
I frown. “Maybe it’s that easy in your world, but in mine, you can’t just tell people to fuck off when you don’t agree with them.”
“You are in my world, Leighton,” Kennedy tells me. “You just haven’t let yourself live in it yet.”
She gives a sugary-sweet smile, and I finally see the similarities between her and Knox personality-wise. I can’t tell if she’s genuinely being nice or annoyed I’m still in her airspace. Either way, it’s the most in-depth conversation in our short history, and fake or not, I appreciate the effort.
“Thanks, Kennedy,” I say.
She pauses, choosing her next words very carefully. “Sometimes we have to take what we want when the opportunity presents itself and figure out the rest later. Otherwise, we’ll always find a reason not to cross the line.”
Then she goes back to her monitor like I’m not here, a dreamy look in her eyes. I can’t help but think she might be speaking from experience. Like maybe this is that bonding moment I’ve been searching for with her, and I should ask if she wants to talk about anything. But then she switches on music, turning it up as if to head off anything of the sort, so I don’t push it.
When I look down at Knox’s desk, the schedules are on top of the rest of the papers, and I sigh, seeing the last of the shifts already filled in.
Knox Cabot did actual work. And he did it for me.
***
Since I don’t have the schedules to distract me, I spend the next hour in the staff lounge, picking at the unhealed wound of Knox. I rearrange the pieces in my brain, shifting them around like a Rubik’s Cube and trying to figure out which part of the combination keeps everything from aligning.
I know none of it should matter—our parents, him being my boss, the townies and ivies raining hell down—but it does to me. If Knox would just wait until the end of summer, we could sort all this out away from the Heights and the Cove.
But then Kennedy’s voice keeps drifting in, telling me to jump now and worry about landing later, and damn it, she keeps getting louder.
I’m standing up to leave for my afternoon shift at the pool bar when I turn around and bump into a teal polo. I jump back, and he scans me up and down, a slimy smile spreading.
“Whoa now, calm down,” he says in a playful tone. “You don’t have to start working for the money already.”
“Excuse me?” I glance behind him to three ivies who are watching us from a table, and then I look at him again.
“I know you’re working the long game with Cabot, so I figured you wouldn’t mind a little cash up-front. Isn’t that how most of you townies like it? Money first?” He smirks through the last part, and my belly drops.
He’s the author of the note from this morning.
Maybe it’s because I was just groped by a fifty-year-old, or the fact this guy is looking at me like I would really sleep with him for cash, but I’m fucking done.
Stepping closer to him, I put on a coy smile. “You wanted to know what you got for two hundred, right?”
“Five hundred,” he corrects in a cocky tone.
I wait for him to finish checking over his shoulder for approval from the others, and when he turns back, I drive my knee straight into his balls.
“What the fuck?” he sputters, doubling over and grabbing his crotch.
I shrug on my way around him. “You should see what I’d do for a thousand.”
One of the ivies snickers as I pass, muttering something, and I slap the can off the table in front of her, sending soda all over her shirt and khakis.
“You bitch,” she yells after me.
But I just smile at how fucking great it felt.
Thanks to the asshole, I’m almost late for my shift. When I get down to the pool, Cole spots me right away. He’s spinning a tray between his palms and stops to hand me one of the folders we sometimes keep tips in.
“From yesterday’s shift,” he says. “I forgot to give them to you earlier.”
“I don’t think so, pal.” I push his hand away. “You worked the tables, you keep the tips.”
“If you were anyone else, I wouldn’t argue. But I consider yesterday a favor. Plus…” He shoves the bills down the front pocket of my apron. “Mrs. Richardson showed up again yesterday, so at this rate, I’ll pay next semester’s tuition by the end of the week.”
And he probably will, too.
I swipe his tray, not in the mood to get my own, and go to see which part of the pool deck I’m covering. I only make it a few feet before I stop, noticing Knox at the bar. He’s on a stool at the end, facing the pool and looking at his phone, and all of my nerve endings seem to fire at once. I want to bury my face in his shirt and have his strong arms surrounding me.