Page 7 of The Last Key (Baker Girls #2)

CHAPTER FIVE

KENNEDY

Devon is messing with my head.

And my body.

Maybe my heart.

When he grabbed my arm in the pantry today and looked at me like he did all those years ago, it was almost cruel.

Throwing me back into the moment I realized I didn’t have a shot with him.

But then he wrapped his arm around me, and in one sentence, he told me a truth I’d been afraid to believe in.

It didn’t matter that he could have anyone else. He wanted me.

And God, when his arm was around my waist and his breath was tickling my ear, I’d never been hotter for him. If he’d stayed there for ten seconds longer, I’d have been begging him to close that door, shove my jeans down, and fuck me against the storage racks.

“Kennedy, sweetheart, can you grab some garlic out of the fridge? ”

“Sure, Sharon,” I say, like I’m not fantasizing about Devon doing dirty things to me while I’m helping his mother cook dinner.

I grab a head of garlic out of the fridge and turn back to her.

Their apartment has a nice eat-in kitchen, which is perfect for Sharon.

She has a rolling office chair so she can get around the kitchen easily, then use the table for all the chopping and prep. “Want me to chop it?” I ask.

She slides me a garlic press and says, “Work smarter, not harder.”

I chuckle at that. “I’ve missed cooking with you.”

“I’ve missed it, too. It’s so good to have you home. Though I suppose you see New York as home, don’t you?”

“In some ways. I spent my formative years here, though. I think a part of me will always think of Brighton as home.”

She smiles brightly at me, then her eyes trail through the kitchen doorway out to the living room where Devon is chatting with his dad. Following her gaze, I watch Devon’s arm flex as he brings it to rest on the back of the love seat.

When I look back at Sharon, her smile has grown, but there’s something devious in her eyes.

Oh shit.

“Sharon…”

“Honey, if you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t have even the slightest feelings for my son, I’ll let go of this.”

“Of what?”

“The hope that one day the two of you will realize what you have is special. And greater than friendship.” I stare at her for a moment, opening and closing my mouth several times. She smiles knowingly at my inability to speak. “Good. I’ll keep the fantasy alive.”

You and me both.

Different fantasies. Same idea, though.

Devon and me.

The thing is, I have no idea if he wants to be with me, if he wants to fuck me, or if he’s madly in love with me and wants to marry me tomorrow.

I’m not sure flirting can give me that answer, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop, either.

After a nice dinner with Devon’s parents, I’m finally taking a hot shower. Much needed after traveling overnight and all the times Devon made me sweat today purely by his proximity.

It was hard to see how Devon’s parents struggled tonight.

Sharon tried to pretend she was okay, but every time she stood up, I could see the pain in her eyes.

When I chatted with her about it, she said it’s just the way things are now, and she has good days and bad days.

Devon’s dad, Lon, is still the quick-witted man I remember.

It’s strange to see him struggle to walk or coordinate his movements.

Though he didn’t show it, his frustration was palpable.

I can’t imagine mentally feeling like nothing has changed, but to feel my body deteriorating.

Yet, they were both upbeat. Maybe some of it was for my sake, but it seemed genuine. Though it’s clear, they’re hoping for Devon to get married and have kids soon. Not that they were pushing it, but there were a few side comments. Most of Sharon’s seemed more directed at me.

This whole trip has thrown me for a loop. Until this morning, I never considered telling Devon my feelings for him. He’s always been the fantasy that would never happen. Now, I’m wondering what could happen. More importantly, I’m trying to sort out what I want to happen.

The physical attraction is easy, but how do I actually feel for him? Like I want to date him? Do I have a crush on him? Do I… love him? I’ve never allowed myself to even wonder those things be fore. Now I’m slowly opening that box, taking my time to figure out what’s inside it.

As I rinse my hair and grab the soap, I think back to the physical side of things.

How his hand felt around my waist. What it would’ve felt like for that hand to have slid down my abdomen, inside my jeans, beneath my underwear until his fingers were buried in my pussy and his thumb was swirling over my clit.

I gasp and lean back against the wall, letting myself live out the fantasy with my own fingers, but with my eyes tightly shut, I pretend it’s him. His fingers darting in and out of me. The tip of his thumb working my clit. Bracing the wall with one hand, I breathe out heavily, biting my lip.

Oh god. Yes.

No matter how hard I try, I can’t hold back my moans.

They get louder until I have to clamp a hand over my mouth, my body jerking and my knees nearly buckling as I come.

Leaning against the shower wall, I slide down, gasping for breath.

“Kennedy?” There’s a quick knock at the door. “Are you okay in there?”

Shit. How much of that did he hear?

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Just getting myself off and pretending it was you. At least I didn’t scream his name. “I was just… singing.”

Sure, that’s believable.

“Okay…”

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

It’s silent for a moment, then he says, “Take your time.” His voice is almost sultry, like he has an idea why I need a minute.

What am I doing?

Forcing myself upright, I stand on shaking legs and finish showering.

Once I’m done, I climb out and wrap a towel around my hair and another around my body, then promptly realize… I forgot to grab clothes.

At least I don’t have to walk down the hall dripping wet. I swing open the door, which leads back into the master, and peek out. Seeing the room is empty, I walk over to the dresser, holding the towel in place as I bend over. Not sure where Devon is. Maybe I scared him away with my moans.

Or maybe he went to jack off.

“Kennedy?” Devon’s choked voice comes from the other side of the room. I stand and spin around to face him.

Or maybe he went to the kitchen for a glass of water and is now staring at me standing in a skimpy towel.

“Sorry. I was so excited for my shower that I forgot to grab clothes.”

“That’s fine.” But his voice is hoarse and squeaky. Then his eyes trail down my body. For the briefest of moments, I consider dropping the towel. What would he do if I did? Attack me? Take me right here against the dresser?

I’m getting hot all over again.

I need to get out of here.

“I’ll be right back.”

I skitter back into the bathroom and quickly finish drying off.

I run a comb through my hair, planning to let it air dry overnight.

I can style it tomorrow. Then I slide on my underwear.

I’m reaching for my shirt, when I see one of Devon’s Brighton High shirts hanging off the hook on the bathroom door.

Smiling to myself, I forgo my tee and shorts and instead slide on his shirt.

It’s big on me and falls just past my ass.

He had quite a reaction to seeing me in a towel. Time to see how he feels about me wearing his shirt.

I strut out of the bathroom, my other clothes under my arm, and quickly toss them back into the drawer. As I shut it, Devon looks up from his phone. He’s shirtless on the bed, and I’m enjoying those defined pecs and abs.

“Is that my shirt?” he croaks.

“Yeah. That okay? It’s comfy,” I say innocently.

He rises from the bed and moves closer, taking me in. The faintest smirk appears on his lips .

“It’s okay. Perfect.” His smooth voice sends a chill up my spine.

Realizing the tone of his voice, he steps back and hurries into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

I think I won that round.

A little while later, I’m cozy in bed when there’s movement next to me.

“Kend?”

“Hm?” I mumble, flashing my eyes open. Devon lifts my phone from my hand and sets it on the bedside table.

“You need to sleep.”

“I think I was.”

“I know. Seemed like you were trying to stay up.”

I was going to tease him more, but I’m exhausted. Two hours of sleep this morning did not make up for me not sleeping last night.

“I was waiting for you,” I whisper, sliding down farther as Devon pulls the covers up. “I like to cuddle, remember? That’s part of the point of this, right?”

He looks at me for a beat, then smiles. “Right. Come here.” He extends his arm, and I roll over so I’m nestled against him.

For this reason alone, sharing a bedroom was a good idea. I love snuggling with him. After everything that’s happened today, I’m still having fun teasing and flirting with him, but I’m also excited to see what happens tomorrow.