Page 69 of Faking Forever
“I know you don’t think it’s a good idea for me to spend time with your sister,” she ventured.
“I simply don’t want her—either of you, actually—to get hurt.”
“She just seemed really excited,” Kenna said, tracing the geometric pattern on the white linen table cloth with her elegant forefinger. The same finger he’d been stroking mere minutes before.
“She did.”
“And I want to do it. Sing tonight, I mean.”
“You do?”
What thehellwas going on with her?
“Yes, because I don’t think I’ll be very good at it.”
“Oh?” His response was wary. He wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that statement.
“It’s like you said, Smith,” she whispered, flattening her palm on the table, fingers splayed. “I only ever attempt things I know I’ll be good at. So maybe it’s time to try something different.”
Oh!
Well, fuck.
Chapter
Thirteen
“You really didn’t haveto drive me back,” Kenny said as Smith brought his Land Rover to a stop in front of her sprawling, ugly rental property.
He put the car in neutral and turned to face her, one arm hooked around the top of his seat and the other draped over the steering wheel. It was such a sexy, utterly confident, masculine pose that she felt a little breathless as she stared back into that penetrating green gaze.
“No need to wait for a ride share when I was right there.”
“We’re meant to be seeing less of each other,” she reminded, breathlessness creeping into her voice. “Not more.”
“We can see less of each other after today,” he said with a nonchalant lift of his broad shoulders.
“Thank you for the ride,” she said.
The stilted politeness in her voice was met with a grave smile that didn’t travel to his eyes.
“You’re welcome.”
“So, I won’t have to text my schedule for tonight, I take it?”
“Ralphie’s. At six-thirty-ish,” he intoned. His right hand,dangling over the top of the steering wheel, waved slightly for emphasis and drew her gaze.
Her eyes sharpened and she reached for his hand with both of hers. She cradled the large, warm appendage gently and stared down at a slightly inflamed wound in the fleshy part of his palm.
“What happened?” she asked in horror as she assessed the injury with a trained eye. She gently prodded at the two puncture wounds about an inch apart at the base of his thumb.
She was a little shocked that she hadn’t noticed it before now.
“Is this a bite of some kind?” She’d seen a few snake bites while doing her ER rotation as a student doctor and while reminiscent of one, upon more thorough inspection, this didn’t appear similar to those.
He winced and shook his head, looking a little sheepish.
“I hooked myself fishing the other day.”
