Chapter 10 #2
He shifts closer, the sheets rustling around us, and pulls me back into his body. I fight back a moan as a dozen touch points spark to life between us: His chest to my back. My ass on his stomach. His arm wrapped around me, while the warmth of his lips inspires goose bumps to erupt along my neck.
“I told you,” he scolds, his voice nothing but a rasp. “We’re snuggling.”
“You hate me.” The second I say the words, I have to gulp down a wave of trepidation. Because that statement doesn’t feel true anymore.
“I wanted to hate you,” he corrects.
My heart lurches in my chest. “Wanted?”
“Shh,” he soothes. “Less talking. More snuggling. Or sleeping.” He yawns to punctuate his command.
“I’m not going to sleep until you answer me.”
What is this? I was just starting to accept the cool neutrality between us—like we were finally finding our footing on opposite sides of the group dynamic.
There’s been an energy between us since the moment we met. If he doesn’t hate me anymore, then what’s the source of that energy? And what’s fueling it? If he’s holding me this tightly and whispering his truth through the darkness, that has to mean something, right?
I can’t risk being toyed with—not now, when I’m so unbelievably raw. Not when it isn’t just my heart in the mix anymore.
He squeezes my hand, then places a tender kiss on my shoulder.
“It was easier to hate you than to admit I wanted you, too. You’ve been in my head since the moment we met, Jojo. I’m done fighting it. I know the deal. I don’t know the details yet, but I want in, too.”
I’m shocked silent by his declaration.
And he’s not done.
Brushing his lips back and forth over my collarbone, he hums and nuzzles closer.
“I know I was cold. Crass. Downright cruel. I had my reasons. I thought I was protecting the others. But it was bullshit, and I’m sorry.”
Shrouded in darkness, I gape, floundering for an appropriate response. He hasn’t stopped touching me. Hasn’t stopped whittling away at everything I thought I knew about him and our dynamic.
“The boys and I… we don’t compete. Not with each other. Never have. Never will. It was easier for me to bow out in the beginning than to entertain the idea of interfering. Plus, I really did think you were trouble when you showed up in town.”
Teeth graze my skin, sending me writhing. This man, who’s been nothing but serious and abrasive since I met him, is nipping at me playfully? What sort of alternate reality did I wake up in?
I’m emotionally raw and physically buzzing. Hope and desire both surge through me, leaving me an absolute strung-out mess.
“Kendrick…” I don’t even know where to begin. He’s right—he was harsh. Cruel. Casually indifferent at his best. Downright awful at his worst.
All because his buddies liked me? And he didn’t know how to deal?
I shift on the mattress, ready to make him own up to his shit.
But he beats me to it.
“I’m sorry, Jojo. It was immature and stupid. I’m sorry for how I treated you, and for the part I played in forcing you to move in here. I know an apology isn’t enough, but I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you now.”
Shit on a crumbly cracker.Of course it’d be the grumpiest among them to also be the most emotionally intelligent.
I could push back. I could punish him for all the ways he hurt me over the last several weeks.
But in truth, I’d be hurting myself just as deeply.
Because right now? In this bed, wrapped up in his arms?
I feel really, really good.
And I don’t want to let this feeling go.
“Okay,” I whisper, nodding and craning my neck so I can look him in the eye.
“Okay?” he confirms, deep brown eyes meeting mine in a smoldering assessment.
Tipping my chin up, I give him a small smile. “Yes. Okay. I forgive you.”
His fingers catch under my chin, and he dips his head until his lips brush mine. He doesn’t kiss me, but he comes close. Sliding his hand around to the back of my head, he searches my face.
“Don’t forgive me yet, Mama. I’m going to fucking earn it. You deserve to be fought for, not fought over. You deserve to be vindicated—which is exactly what I’m gonna do. The motherfucking South Chapel Sharks need to know what happens when they try to take what’s ours.”
“Ours?” I ask, hypnotized by his closeness, his presence, the intensity of his gaze.
“Ours. We were a mess without you, Jojo. When I saw how the boys all responded, saw how they need you… I couldn’t keep denying that I need you, too.”
His admission steals my breath and makes my stomach dip. Is this what swooning feels like? A ridiculously delighted hum escapes me before I can stop it, and I blush when I notice the hint of a smirk on Kendrick’s lips.
A small voice in the back of my mind whispers that I’m not worthy. That this is all too good to be true. But I tell that bitch to hush and revel in the feeling of being wanted. Being chosen. Being claimed.
Desperate to hide my grin, I shift again so I’m facing away from him, then sink back into his hold, savoring the warmth and adoration radiating off him.
Kendrick wasn’t supposed to be part of the equation. Yet he’s a perfect fit—a belt buckle finding its usual notch, or a perfectly worn-in pair of sneakers laced up just right.
“Be good to us. Don’t make us compete.”
“Never,” I whisper, my heart aching at just the thought. “I would never do that to any of you.”
He kisses the back of my neck once more, then goes still behind me. After a long moment, when I’m almost positive he’s drifted off again, he speaks. “I believe that now. I didn’t at first. But I was wrong. I believe you, Jojo.”