Kendall #3
But the fact that I knew without question he was thinking about what we’d done in the alley had a naughty little spark blooming up in my stomach. I pushed it away, trying to ignore it. At least while we were surrounded by baby furniture and expectant moms.
I explained that Benji and Josie were doing the nursery colors in yellow and pale grey, and used my advantageous knowledge of the registry to steer him in the direction of stuff she still needed.
I’d been waiting to get my gift for them, hoping to fill in a gap of something someone else hadn’t already claimed, so when Rhys suggested we coordinate on a few things, I loved the idea.
We settled on a pretty grey rug with a bold yellow moon and stars pattern on it, a sleek and modern grey dresser that we scheduled to have delivered to the Kensington house, and a lamp that couldn’t have been more perfect, with a pattern of baby elephants and fat yellow balloons printed around the shade. And the football onesie.
“It’s going to be kind of hard to split this stuff up into what’s from me and what’s from you,” I noted, while Rhys transferred half the cost of everything to me via an app on his phone.
“We’ll just put it all from both of us,” he said casually, his eyes still locked down on his screen as he tapped through the process. When he was done, he raised his head, his blue eyes questioning. “Unless… You think that’s weird? We don’t have to do it like that. I just thought it’d be easier.”
“No!” I said quickly, and he instantly looked relieved.
The way my reassurance and validation affected him sometimes…
It made me feel like I was the only person in the world.
Like I could give him everything he’d ever need to be happy and satisfied and fulfilled.
“That’s a good idea. And it’s not weird.
I mean, we shopped together. Benji already knows that, so… ”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Not weird. We’re the uncles.”
It wasn’t exactly an uncles thing to do, giving the gifts from both of us. It was a couple thing to do, and we both knew that. No one would suspect anything at the party, but I would know.
All of these tiny, domestic things were starting to make my chest feel like it was stuffed full of fluffy cotton candy. Like the fact that he’d still never given my spare key back. He hadn’t used it yet, but… He had access to me. Whenever he wanted or needed. He knew it and I knew it.
It was quiet for a bit as we carried our stuff out, minus the dresser that wouldn’t fit in the backseat of my small car, and carefully stowed everything away.
I wasn’t exactly ready to take him back home yet, as selfish as it was.
But I also wasn’t clueless enough to think he was in any rush to be away from me either.
I’d started having thoughts about actually keeping Rhys, of somehow convincing him that we were perfect together, at the parade.
And they were only getting more and more intense.
Maybe I was just being delusional, but… I wasn’t a moron, either.
He probably hadn’t admitted it to himself yet but it was more than a fleeting attraction between us.
More than sexual chemistry. He was seeking me out, making excuses to be in my company.
He didn’t have any interest in going out with Brie again, or anyone else that had tried reconnecting with him.
I was the one he was thinking about all the time. Texting all the time.
It was a terrifying feeling, actually having hope for… something real with him. In all the years I’d known him, and adored him, I’d never actually imagined being in a situation like this.
Was I really letting myself believe I could convince Rhys Kensington to actually fall for me, and want something long term? Something we didn’t have to sneak around to do, that he’d be proud for people to know about him?
Leaning my hip onto the side of the car, I peered up at him through my lashes, drinking up the way the sunlight poured over his dark hair to drip down over the perfect contours of his face and muscular body.
“You okay?” He asked, his dark brows furrowing together.
“Yeah,” I said, forcing a light grin to spread across my features.
Fuck, it was scary. This limbo. This uncertainty. At least before, when he’d never shown any interest with me, I’d just known there would never be anything. But now it was like this pearly, shimmering fantasy hanging over my head, just out of my reach.
“There’s a really cute place across the street that does, like, fancy fruit slushes and boba tea and stuff,” I said. “I get something every time I come over this way.”
“Do you want to go?” He asked, without a beat of hesitation. My stomach was a sticky web of trapped butterflies, but I forced myself to look calm and collected as I brushed a lock of my hair off my forehead.
“Well, I didn’t know if you need to get back home right away.”
He scoffed, and glanced up into the sky, his cheeks darkening.
“You think I have a life or something?”
“Well, I wasn’t going to just assume you’d want to keep hanging out,” I said, the smile on my lips genuine now. “That would be rude.”
“Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat, his gaze still hovering somewhere off to my side. “It would be crazy to assume I’d want to hang out with you. I’ve made it so obviously clear that I don’t ever want to do that.”
I bit down into my lower lip to stifle my laugh, hoping not to embarrass him any further by making him admit anything else.
I moved closer to him, so close I could smell the sharp citrus tang of his soap, and he finally flicked his gaze back to mine.
I could tell by the way his eyes sharpened, and the way his body leaned into me that he wanted to kiss.
He’d moved instinctively to do it, before his senses kicked in and reminded him we were in public, in broad daylight.
We weren’t in Cherryvale, and the chances of seeing anyone we knew were slim, but…
Kissing me in public would be a huge step.
I wasn’t anywhere near delusional enough to think he was ready for something like that yet.
To lighten the tension and make sure he didn’t think I was upset or disappointed by the obvious way he’d backed off, I tilted my head, popping up my eyebrows to make sure he knew that I knew how bad he wanted to lock lips with me.
He snorted, cheeks flushing again, before he reached out and gently shoved me a few inches away.
“Can you just get in the damn car?” He grumbled, and I feigned a look of surprise.
“I know you can be more polite than that, Rhys,” I said, dropping my voice down into the sweet, breathy tone I liked to use when I had his dick in my hand. “You’re usually so good at asking nicely for what you want.”
He let out a strangled sound, staring at me incredulously as he pushed up and off the door so he could wrench it open and slide into the passenger seat.
“Sadist.”
The chagrined look on his face had me nearly doubled over with laughter as I made my way around the car to the driver’s seat.