27. River
CHAPTER 27
River
“So, should I just tell them you finally fell for my charms?” I still hope to get a rise out of Kennedy where I can.
“Sure, I’m the one who finally fell for your charms? Is it opposites day or something because I think you’re the one who broke into my hotel room and fucked me with my dildo.” She smiles, batting her eyes at me, feigning sweetness and innocence.
We’re trying to figure out how we break the news to Ash and Sam later today. Samara was in the hospital, and she’s going home in the next hour. To make their night a little easier, we’re swinging by in the afternoon to leave some dinner for them. Of course, Kennedy said she’d buy something, but I decided something homemade would be best.
“Seriously though, what should we do? Do you think this will upset Sam more and cause more stress on her and the babies?” I don’t know what to expect as a reaction from our friends. This will be out of left field for them, and I don’t want to upset either of them. However, I already know I can’t walk away from this with Kennedy.
“Honestly, who knows? Pregnant Sam is a whole other creature.” She laughs, looking over my shoulder to see what I’m doing.
“How did you get so good at cooking?” She seems absolutely perplexed by anything regarding food prep.
“Well, after my dad passed, my brother and I took on one night of cooking a week to help around the house. Of course, we were young when he died, so it was many peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but then we graduated to using the stove and oven. We just tried different things. Burned many things. Drove my mom crazy at first, but we got the hang of it.”
“Well, I’m really good at microwaving, so if this recipe requires that kind of help, I’m here,” she says, utterly proud of her accomplishment of using something in her kitchen.
“I will definitely let you know.” I give her a kiss on the nose and get back to layering this lasagna.
“So, back to our news. What if you and I show up together? That’s at least a foot in the door, no pun intended.” She makes her way over to the stool and sits down, her eyes seemingly mesmerized by what I’m doing.
“Okay, then what? Just come in, drop off food, then hold hands? Or should I grab your ass in front of them and yell, ‘Mine!’” I’m so lost on how to go about doing this. I may have dated women, but none who meant something to me.
“Ha! I dare you to do that and see how it goes from there.” She rolls her eyes and takes a swig of her water. “I guess we sit down and just tell them. I mean, how the hell do I know? I’m the female version of you with relationships.” She shrugs her shoulders.
“I guess it’s the blind leading the blind,” I say as the last layer is placed on the lasagna.
* * *
The unusually warm fall breeze is doing nothing to calm my nerves now that we stand at Sam and Ashton’s front door. I don’t know why I’m so nervous to tell them Kennedy and I are dating.
“Hey guys!” Ashton looks exhausted after a night in the hospital, but his smile is genuine, and I can see he’s happy to have some support. The fact Kennedy and I are standing at his doorway together doesn’t seem to phase him in the least.
He ushers us inside, and I make my way through to the kitchen. Kennedy is walking quietly behind me, probably letting her nerves get the best of her too. It’s still strange to see someone usually so composed let something like our newfound relationship ruffle her feathers in such a way.
Once I set the food in their oven and get it turned on, I make my way back and sit on the couch. Kennedy could not be any farther away, but at this rate, I think we need to start slow with our little announcement.
Sam comes down the stairs, and the moment she sees Kennedy, her face lights up.
“Yay! There’s Auntie Kenny and Uncle River!” Sam waddles her way over, her belly seeming to have popped overnight. I swear her stomach was half that size a little over a week ago.
Kennedy stands up to greet her friend and then sits back down, this time fiddling with the ring on her finger.
“I didn’t know you were coming over right now, River.” She makes her way over to me, and I meet her halfway, knowing that although bedrest is modified, she shouldn’t be doing much.
“Shouldn’t you be sitting in bed?” I say, wondering why she’s walking around the house.
“I’m allowed one stroll around the house once per day, and I haven’t done that yet since we got home. I’ve been resting for a few hours now.”
I look over at Ashton, and I can see the concern etched across his face.
“We’re quickly learning Sam makes a horrible patient.” He sighs, and that wins him a look that could kill from his wife. He quickly brings his arms up. “You know it’s the truth, babe.”
She shrugs and goes to sit down on the couch.
“So, what’s new?” Such a simple question, yet it causes me to pause, an uptick of my pulse evident as the blood is now swooshing in my ears. Why is this so nerve-wracking?
“Um…” My gaze darts over to Kennedy, and she looks at me in a panic.
“What’s going on? Everything okay?” Ashton speaks up, and I can tell from his expression he’s worried now.
“Oh yeah, fine, but…” Kennedy attempts to say, and I feel like if we don’t just say it, it will just be the two of us walking in circles all night.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sam yells, and now I’m not just nervous, but I’m scared. My gaze swings her way, and I’m not sure if she’s stunned or pissed.
“Fuck you, Ashton. Go get my wallet!” she yells at her husband.
He throws his fist in the air and punches it. Utter confusion is the only emotion I feel right now.
“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” Ashton yells from the other room, and Sam just keeps huffing in her corner of the couch.
“What the fuck is happening?” I ask, hoping they can explain themselves.
“You two are fucking each other!” Sam points at both of us, and I still can’t read if she’s pissed or happy about this turn of events.
“Geez, Sam, so crass,” Kennedy says as she rolls her eyes, and my mouth hits the floor.
“You knew?” I say, looking over at Ashton, baffled by this reaction. Right as the pieces are coming together, Sam retrieves her wallet and pulls out a fifty-dollar bill, handing it over to her husband, begrudgingly, might I add.
“Did you fucking bet on us?” I ask. My jaw would be hitting the floor again, but it hasn’t left that spot yet.
“Well, ‘knew’ is a bit presumptuous, but did I guess it was happening? Yes,” Ash confesses.
“How? We were discrete. We tried to keep up charades whenever we saw you,” Kennedy pipes up, just as baffled as I am.
“Ha!” Ashton yells. “I saw you put your hand on her leg at the gender reveal. I thought you were just trying to piss her off at first, but then she didn’t punch you like she usually would, so I knew something was up. I ran to Sam to tell her, and she thought I was crazy. So I made it interesting—for me, that is,” he confesses, no shame in his antics.
“So you made money while you were at it? You’re hanging out with Clay too much!” I throw back. Why is everyone betting on me and my sex life lately?
“You dirty girl,” Sam says, a sly smile taking over her features.
Right then, Kennedy’s cheeks flush, and it’s hard not to enjoy her reaction.
“Yeah, well, he grew on me,” Kennedy says.
“Yeah, I bet he did!” Sam snorts as Ashton throws a look in her direction. “What? Remember that time I walked into the gym locker room by accident, and he was changing? I saw things, hun.” Now her gaze swings back to Kennedy. “Congrats, sis.” Her wink is exaggerated, and now I’m blushing.
Samara is usually shy and reserved, but those pregnancy hormones are making her loose-lipped, and it’s sort of funny to see from her.
Her husband decides not to open that can of worms and looks at us. “How long has it been going on?” Ashton asks.
“Since the wedding, pretty much,” I say, not really thinking much about it.
“Months? Fucking months you’ve kept this from me, Kenny?” Sam says to Kennedy. Now I think the hormone shift is making her angry.
“Well, sort of? I mean, it was just a hookup at first, but yeah, it all started at the wedding,” she says.
“Wow! So it’s serious then?” Sam asks. I can’t help but look at Kennedy and take her in. I think if I had been asked this same question before everything that transpired this past week, I’d say no. I would have confidently gone along with the fact that this was just a fling, thinking nothing more would come of it. But being away from her has taught me that I can’t go a minute knowing she’s not mine.
“Yeah, it is.” I decide I should answer, if anything, to prove to Kennedy I mean it when I say I’m in this with her.
“River finally has a girlfriend,” Ashton says, a completely innocent comment.
The moment I say “Yeah,” I hear Kennedy comment with, “We haven’t put labels on us.”
Her response makes me pause.
“What do you mean labels ?” I say to her, wondering what the actual fuck that means.
“River, we haven’t talked about that. I think now isn’t the time.” Her eyes go wide like this is a discussion we should save for later when it’s just us.
“This is the perfect time. Kennedy, I don’t share. I told you that. There’s no waiting around to see if that’s the case. It’s fact.” I make sure the finality of the conversation is understood with my tone.
“Oh, is that right? Like you have some sort of power over this relationship or something? So you’re my boyfriend, and we don’t even have a conversation about it?” I can see this is riling her up, and I’m okay with it. I thought this was decided already. I mean, wasn't what happened not even a day ago exactly what this was about? She wanted commitment and I'm giving it to her.
“I damn well better be your boyfriend. Change your social media profiles and everything. Taken! That’s final. There’s no question about it!” I stand up, moving closer to her.
I see her inch back a bit in her seat like that’s going to keep her at a distance from me. I pull her by the hands to stand and crash my lips to hers. A faint “Fuck yeah” from Ashton can be heard while I hear a clap that I can only assume is coming from Sam.
Our lips part, and I look her in the eyes. “Is that enough of a confirmation for you, Skip?”
Her eyes are slowly opening to meet mine, and I know from this point on, they’re the only eyes I ever want to see staring back at me.
Her voice is slightly above a whisper. “Yes.”
I smack her ass, no care in the world who our audience is. “Mine!”
I turn toward our friends and clap my hands together. “Who wants lasagna?”