Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 140184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 701(@200wpm)___ 561(@250wpm)___ 467(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 701(@200wpm)___ 561(@250wpm)___ 467(@300wpm)
I’m about to stand up and stretch, tell them not to worry about it, I’m already feeling more awake, and I know I can get home safe.
But then, before I can do more than uncurl and reach one foot toward the ground, Milo speaks again.
“There’s only one bed that makes any sense for Kennedy to sleep in tonight.”
I suck in a breath, sure I know what he’s about to say, but equally sure that there’s no way in hell he’ll say it—not in front of Jet.
His gaze meets mine.
My eyes widen ever so slightly, a plea or a warning, I’m not even sure.
Don’t say it. Don’t say what I think you’re going to say.
And then he does.
“Mine.”
Chapter six
Milo
Kennedy’s big brown eyes are impossibly wide and locked on me as she sits forward, frozen in the act of preparing to stand up.
Her gaze lingers on me in disbelief for a couple more beats, then darts to Jet.
It rankles that the first thing she does is look to him to see his reaction, but I try to ignore that.
Jet’s not thinking what she’s thinking, anyway. To him, she’s a kid like him and I’m a parent; there’s no reason to think I would have any ulterior motive for inviting her to sleep in my bed other than making sure she’s safe.
And if I weren’t such a bastard, that would be true, but damn… it’s a temptation I can’t pass up, knowing the scent of her curly hair will linger on my pillow tomorrow, that her bare legs will brush the soft sheets I normally sleep on. Her scent may even cling to the bedding, and while none of that should excite me, given she’s a teenage girl and possibly my son’s new girlfriend…
It does.
Kennedy stammers a bit. “Uh, I—I don’t want to intrude…”
“It’s no problem whatsoever,” I assure her. “You can sleep in my bed, and I’ll take the couch tonight.”
Relief settles across her features.
Did she really think I meant we would sleep in the bed together?
I can see by the flush of her cheeks and the way her gaze shifts guiltily away from mine that she did, and it makes me smirk.
Disappointed?
When she looks back at me, she can see the teasing question in my eyes and she rolls hers before heaving a sigh only teenagers are capable of.
Jet is nodding and not at all surprised because of course he assumed that I would be taking the couch. “You can borrow some of my clothes to sleep in if you want.”
“Thanks,” she says tentatively, finally rising from the couch to follow me.
I tell Jet to clean up down here while I take Kennedy upstairs and show her around. She has seen his bedroom when they were studying, of course, but she hasn’t seen mine.
No reason she ever should, but…
Her voice is uncertain as she trails behind me down the hall. “Are you sure you don’t mind me staying? I don’t want to kick you out of your own bed. I do have one to sleep in at home.”
I shake my head, pushing open my bedroom door and turning on the light. “You’re tired. I want you to be safe.”
Kennedy sidles up close to me, then squeezes past me to get into the room. “You know I’m not your kid, right?” she teases, looking over at me. “It’s not your responsibility to keep me safe.”
“I believe I’ve made it abundantly clear I don’t see you as a kid at all, least of all mine.”
Her lips curve up at the reminder, but she’s distracted looking around my bedroom and doesn’t blush the way she probably would have otherwise. “Hell, I am my mom’s kid and she doesn’t even care that much.” Seeming to remember she needs to text Tracey and let her know she won’t be home, she reaches into her purse and draws out her phone. “You don’t happen to have an extra charge cord, do you? I left in a hurry and forgot to bring mine.”
I nod and walk over to my nightstand drawer. “Of course, we always have a few extra ones around somewhere.” I open the drawer, pushing aside the stash of condoms that shouldn’t make me think of her, and draw out the cord.
When I turn to walk it back to her, she’s standing right there, her gaze flitting from her phone screen to the open drawer. Her eyes widen at the sight of the condoms and she looks up at me, startled.
I push the drawer closed without explanation and hand her the charger.
“Thanks,” she murmurs shyly, unwinding it so she can plug it in by the bed. “Do you have a lot of overnight guests?”
I know she wouldn’t have likely asked if she hadn’t seen the condom stash. “No, I never bring women around the house unless it’s serious, and it’s never serious.”