Quit Me If You Can

26. Kennedy

26

KENNEDY

I t’s 6:00 a.m., and I’m awake. You know that split second of beautiful peace when you’re waking up, just before reality comes crashing down? Well, that doesn’t happen today. For once, I’m not alone. As I drift into consciousness, the sharp sting between my legs and the weight on my chest reminds me of the events from the previous night. I try to move away, but a powerful arm holds me in place, Cade’s hand possessively cupping my breast. His other hand holds mine, our fingers interlaced.

The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. I slept with him. A forgivable mistake I might survive. But falling asleep, and waking up in his arms?

There’s no going back. Nothing’s ever going to be the same.

Cade is still asleep. His steady breathing gives him away.

If his routine hasn’t changed, he’ll be up in half an hour, annoyingly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

If I don’t want to look like a zombie after our first night together, I need coffee. Make that two coffees.

I carefully slip out of his arms, throw on my robe, and sneak into the kitchen. The aroma of fresh brew greets me, along with a grinning roommate who looks like she just won the lottery. I didn’t notice when she came in last night… I was a little preoccupied, wasn’t I?

“I knew it,” Harper says in lieu of a greeting, folding up the newspaper she buys every morning and reads until bedtime.

“You did not.”

I pour a cup of coffee and plop down across from her. I look like a hot mess. Exhausted, lips puffy from what must have been a million kisses. But I’m happier than I’ve been in years. Of course , Harper knows Cade’s the guy who’s sleeping in my bed.

“ Girl . Did he devour your clit?”

My thighs clench at the memory. “Oh, you have absolutely no idea.”

“Did he confiscate your panties?”

“What? No! Absolutely not.”

She takes a sip of her green tea. “Well, that’s unexpected. Did you at least ask him what happened to the ones you left on his desk?”

“Negative, and trust me, that didn’t occur to me at all.” My mind reels at the thought of him keeping such intimate items as trophies.

Harper snorts. “I bet he sniffed them.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Oh, my god. No, he did not. He’s not a pervert!”

She bursts out laughing, unfazed by my protests. In a stage-worthy whisper, she says, “I bet he takes them out now and then for a whiff.”

My mouth falls open. She’s such a loon. “Stop it. He does not.” Only then do I glance over my shoulder to make sure the door to my bedroom is still closed. When it comes to Cade and those unplanned, face-palming confessions, you can count on my timing being perfectly on cue.

Thank goodness, the door is shut.

“Okay, if he doesn’t use them, tell him to give ’em back. Obviously you two are close enough now for that kind of exchange.”

Oh, my gosh, she’s killing me! I’m still working for him! I couldn’t. “Like, ‘Hey, lawyer. Yo, boss. Mind if I get my panties back?’ Yeah, no. Can you imagine?” I feel my face light up in embarrassment at the mere thought of it. “You know what else happened?”

“There’s more? What?”

“He found the farewell note,” I say. “Before all that went down.”

“OMG. Stop it! Are you serious? And he still devoured your clit? What in the world did you write?”

“Basically, I called him a terrible lawyer, clarified the panties weren’t for him, said he’s not that hot anymore, and then I dropped the bomb that I’m quitting.”

Harper gasps with each of the points.

Then she bursts out laughing. “You wrote all that? I’m dying! So for real–for real now, what did he say? Did he look like he was going to lose it?”

I snort. “No, actually, he basically just said, ‘Nobody’s quitting.’”

“Honestly, chica, that’s hot. And then what?”

“Well…”

“Wait. Don’t say anything. Mr. Nobody-Is-Quitting adjourned you to the bedroom.”

“Basically, yes.”

“Well, if you need any more writing tips or need help hiding your incriminating evidence, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks, Harper. You’re the best roommate, therapist, and partner-in-crime a girl could ask for.” We both get up at the same time, Harper heading to bed after her grueling bar shift, and me heading to the kitchen to make coffee for Cade, just like I used to do sometimes in the past.

“ Right . Just remember, next time, no more therapeutic notes for you,” Harper says, before she disappears into her room. “If you need some kind of catharsis, you’ll have to find a different way!”

I brew a fresh pot of coffee and grab a mug from the cabinet, the one with a dachshund winding around it, and its tail forms the handle. It’ll remind Cade of Hansi. Or more likely, the underwear he slipped down across my thighs on our first night together.

My eyes fall to the newspaper Harper left behind, and one glance at the headline sends my adrenaline through the roof:

“Ecclestone Slips Away Again?”

The subhead is even worse:

“Leading Lawyer MIA in Court. Justice in Jeopardy.”

Oh god. It totally slipped my mind. Cade’s hearing was yesterday, and I’m the reason he missed it. I feel a little queasy, vaguely remembering him brushing it off. But I doubt he’d have done that if he’d known it would make him front-page news.

As I pour the coffee and tuck the newspaper under my arm, I can’t help but wonder—Cade missing an appointment, especially one this crucial, just isn’t like him.

So he genuinely put me before work? I’m still wrapping my head around it.

I open the bedroom door. Cade is awake, looking at me with that melting gaze. Those long lashes, they’re flirting with me, I swear they are. I sit on the bed and hand him the cup, placing the newspaper beside me, for now.

“Hey,” he says. “Love the mug. It brings back a memory.”

“Really? What does it remind you of?” I attempt to keep it light, but a trace of concern slips through.

He winks at me and takes a sip. It’s a little too hot, so he sets the mug on the nightstand. “Is there a reason for that worried expression, or…” He pulls me onto the bed with him, and I squeak in surprise. “Should I conduct a thorough interrogation to get to the bottom of it?”

Watching me laugh, Cade props himself up on his elbow, and his fingers gently tangle in my hair. He tilts his head down and brushes his warm lips against my neck, my cheek, the corner of my lips.

“We… need to talk,” I manage to say, though I’d much rather do something else.

He nods. “If you’re worried about office gossip,” he begins, and I shake my head, trying to cut in, but he barrels on (typical lawyer behavior). “Or if you’re concerned that our relationship might affect your standing at work, we can keep things discreet.” Cade’s fingers start unfastening the belt on my robe, making it clear where his true intentions lie. “Our personal life doesn’t have to interfere with work. No one has to know unless you want them to.”

“That’s not it.” I turn to face him, our mouths almost touching for a kiss.

“No? Then what is it?” He chuckles. It’s hard not to melt.

“You made the front page.”

I reach behind me, feeling for the newspaper until I find it.

His expression doesn’t change. “I know. You win some, you lose some. That’s the nature of the game.”

Without even so as much as a glance, Cade takes the newspaper from my hand and tosses it into a far corner of the room.

That’s all he has to say about Humphries and Ecclestone before he leans in.