Page 2 of The Last Key (Baker Girls #2)
DEVON
“I didn’t think it was going to rain this much,” I say, looking up at the top of the tent, grateful I put on both the rain fly and a tarp. I thought it might be too much, at the time, but I guess not.
“I know. Normally, I love the rain, but I’m freezing,” Kennedy says.
She’s in her sleeping bag but still shivering.
We didn’t bring any extra blankets this time, and neither of us wants to run out in the rain if we don’t have to.
“Come here,” I say, unzipping the side of my sleeping bag. “Bring yours with you.”
She climbs out of the sleeping bag and no wonder she’s freezing. She’s wearing the skimpiest little sleep shorts I’ve ever seen.
Crap.
I can barely control my boners on a good day. Forget when I’m alone with Kennedy. Now she’s in tiny shorts. And snuggling against me. Crap. Crap. Crap .
“What do you want me to do?” she asks.
“What?” I choke out.
“With my sleeping bag,” she says.
“Oh.” Right. Because Kennedy does not have feelings for me. Despite what I feel for her—a massive crush and epic horniness.
“Stand up for a second,” I tell her. I stand too, then unzip her sleeping bag and tuck the bottom underneath mine. We both settle back in my sleeping bag, then pull the top of hers over us.
She leans against me and wraps her arm around my waist.
Do not get hard. Don’t do it, I command my dick.
“Thanks for keeping me warm.”
“Always,” I say, trying not to sound as worked up as I am.
She twirls her finger over my abs.
Yep, there it is.
At least it’s only a semi and not a full hard-on.
This is fine. As long as I stay where I am and she stays where she is, she won’t feel it.
“I love the sound of the rain,” she whispers.
“It’s peaceful,” I agree, rubbing my hand down her back.
Moments like this make me question if I’m wrong about how she feels about me, but then I think back to last year.
It was my fourteenth birthday party, and I’d invited a bunch of kids from school.
I didn’t really want to do anything big, but since my mother knows so many of theirs, I invited them all anyway.
My parents were cool about it all and let me have a semi-supervised party at Brighton Manor—the inn my mother’s family has owned and operated for several generations.
A group of girls got the idea to play spin the bottle, and most of the guys, eager to be kissed, agreed. Kennedy and I went to the pantry looking for a bottle to use, and she asked me if I really wanted to play.
My heart was pounding as I spun around and looked at her.
“There’s only one girl I really want to kiss.”
“Oh. Who?”
I raised my eyebrows as I stared at her .
Her eyes widened as I moved closer, but she didn’t stop me. My hand was on her arm and my gaze was on her lips when the group of girls appeared at the doorway asking if we’d found a bottle yet.
Kennedy yanked her arm away, grabbed a glass bottle of ketchup, shoved it in one of the girl’s hands, and walked away.
She wouldn’t play with us. Once the game got started, I didn’t even want to play because all the girls were purposely trying to land on me.
I just wanted a fun night with my best friend, but I’d scared her.
That night, I made a promise to myself not to try it again, but it didn’t make my feelings disappear.
Moments like this, though, are confusing. Her fingers are now at the hem of my shirt, brushing the skin above my waistband.
“Kennedy?”
“Hm?” She tilts her head up to look at my face.
“Want to go to homecoming with me?”
Maybe I’m breaking my promise to myself by asking her, but there’s no one else I want to go with.
“Really? You want to go with me?” she asks, surprised.
“Yeah. Of course. We always have fun together.”
“Fun. Right.” Now she sounds disappointed, and I don’t understand why.
I think for a second, then carefully roll onto my side, being sure to keep my hips pulled back away from her.
“Is fun a bad thing?”
“No…” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and I almost groan. “I just… there are so many other girls you could go with. I saw at least one show you her cleavage this week.”
I roll my eyes at that.
“Yeah. And that’s not what I find attractive.”
“You don’t like boobs?” she teases.
Don’t look at her boobs. Don’t look at her boobs.
Keeping my eyes steady on her face, I say, “I do. But…” But what? I like your boobs? “I don’t want the girls who are shoving their boobs in my face.” I clear my throat. “You’re the one I’d rather go with. If you ever let me stop begging.”
She laughs. “Okay, then. I’d love to go with you.”
“Good.”
I flop onto my back again, and she drapes her arm over my chest and nestles her head against my shoulder. Then I switch off the LED lantern sitting next to us. As she slowly drifts off, I softly kiss her head and revel in this moment since I’m not sure I’ll ever get more than this.