Still Not Over You(60)

The fact that I bristle at the implied insult to Kenna before I bristle at that fucking question tells me an answer I don’t want to face.

It hits like a slug to the gut, and I can’t speak. I won’t.

I’m not going to bare myself to this wretched little brat when I can’t even face those things myself. But it says a lot that even with a naked woman millions would give their left nut to fuck trying to rub herself against me, all I can think about is Kenna.

So much that I’m imagining her voice.

“Landon?”

Not my imagination.

Kenna’s actually here.

Why the fuck is Kenna here?

My head whips up, heart booming like a cannon, just in time to see her stumbling through the door with one of the guards reaching for her arm. She’s a mess – her arms and legs scratched, her sandals caked in mud, her feet filthy. She’s sweaty, disheveled, her hair a tangled mess falling half out of its tail.

She’s never looked more beautiful.

And I’ve never looked like a bigger ass than I do with a naked Milah practically in my arms.

Kenna staggers to a halt, staring between us, her eyes wide and wounded, like shattered green glass threatening to let her hurt seep through the cracks.

Fuck! I know exactly how this looks.

I open my mouth to protest, but my boy, James, leans around the door, reaching for her arm again.

“Miss –”

“Let her go,” I snarl, then follow my own advice and drop Milah’s wrists like I’ve been burned. Kenna snaps that recriminating gaze to me, her mouth trembling, but before I can say anything else Milah lets out a huffy, annoyed sound.

“Don’t even start,” Milah snaps. She stands there brazenly naked, cocking her weight on one hip, and folds her arms over her burgeoning plastic chest. “Look, the last thing I need to deal with is a tantrum from the C-cup he just ditched me for.”

Kenna trains her glare at Milah. “Excuse the fuck out of you?”

“I mean get over it, Plain Jane.” Milah scowls. “God, you're dense. He doesn’t want me. So don’t start no shit, won’t be no shit. You’re lucky, okay? Really fuckin' lucky! The only thing he’s been thinking about is you, you, and – oh yeah – you. He turned me down. For you. Can you believe it? Because I still can't.”

Kenna just stands there, a sort of dumbstruck, blank expression on her face.

I know just how she feels. Hell, I’m frozen, too, my tongue swollen thick in my mouth, my gut in knots and my hands itching to reach for her, shake her, hold her, touch her, shove her away. All my conflicted feelings rammed together simultaneously.

Meanwhile, here's Milah Holly, baring my goddamned soul for me like it’s hers to give.

Milah gives us both almost pitying looks.

There’s something weird in her expression. Her eyes are wet, her face crestfallen, and suddenly instead of the little-girl act there’s just a little girl someone broke a long time ago, who’s been trying to find someone to tell her she’s worth something ever since.

Suddenly, I can see Milah for who she really is, and deep down I’m glad I made the choice to protect her even if she’s still an ungrateful little shit.

Fuck. These thoughts aren’t like me.

I blame Kenna. For showing up and turning my world upside down.

But we’re both just standing there, wordless, and Milah lets out an exasperated sigh, a watery smile trembling her lips. “You’re both so stupid,” she says, then reaches out and pokes Kenna in the forehead. “Don’t let him go, okay? This stuff, with him...it’s special, C-cup. Fucking annoying, but special. You can't buy real these days.”

Kenna stands frozen a moment longer, eyes crossing on Milah’s manicured finger, before a grit-toothed smile crosses her lips. She snaps her hand around Milah’s wrist and pries her back.

“Touch me again,” Kenna says through her teeth, “and I end you.”

Then she lets go of Milah’s wrist, her fixed expression gentling. “But thanks, lady.”

It’s Milah’s turn to blink, disbelieving, before she goes red through her makeup and looks away with a flustered “Hmph. Whatever, Plain Jane.”

She turns in a toss of her hair, blonde tail nearly lashing Kenna in the face, and saunters off to snag a robe and pull it on, finally covering her naked body.

“Work your shit out,” she tosses over her shoulder, settling at her vanity. “You can thank me later.”

“Even when she’s being sweet, she’s cocky,” Kenna grumbles under her breath, finally snapping the confused spell of silence.

“Part of her charm,” I growl, then shake my head. “What are you doing here, Reb?”

I can’t even be angry. I'm too confused. This doesn't make a lick of sense.

I should be shouting at her, chasing her off again, but I still can’t shake the trembling feeling when that question of do I love her hits me right in the face like an uppercut.

My feet are unsteady. My vision blurred. Like my emotions are about to burst out of me and betray me before I can push her away again for her own good.

But all thoughts of how I feel about her vanish when she fixes me with a grave look, considering, then says, “I found something at the beach house. Related to the fire. Also remembered something you may want to know about the day Micah died.”