When Our Worlds Stand Still (Our Worlds #3)(31)

“I never doubted your love, Graham. Not once.” I slide off his lap but drape my legs over his. “Now, tell me more about Ben.”

“He’s energetic and funny. The kid has the best personality. He struggled with math for a while, but we finally figured out he doesn’t learn like most kids. The kid loves to read, which I know you can appreciate, and has this strange fascination with bookstores. We went on an outing last month, and the kid made me stop in every rundown bookstore, I swear.” Graham rattles off small, but important facts about a boy who has managed to change him in such a short amount of time.

“How did you find out about the place Ben stays at?” I ask, curious to what he’s been up to since our time apart.

“At Georgia, I hadn’t declared a major, because let’s face it, I didn’t know my left from my right there, but when I enrolled at UConn, I weighed my options.”

“What is your major?” I ask, realizing there are a million things I don’t know about Graham’s life.

“Psychology with a minor in criminal justice.”

“That’s amazing, Graham, but what does that mean for baseball?”

“Baseball is my first love, and if I can make it into a career, I’ll take the route leading there. But, I’d also like to make sure I have something to fall back on. A solid foundation to land on if my dreams don’t pan out the way I’ve anticipated my whole life.”

I shift until my legs are in front of me. With my head resting on Graham’s shoulder, I think about everything I know now. When I was struggling with my own demons, Graham wasn’t wasting his time with nameless girls and the debauchery I’d expected. Instead, he’s done everything he can to build a future for himself.





I stand, my hand outstretched to Kennedy. She’s happy to lock her fingers around my own.

“Let’s get you inside and into warmer clothes,” I offer for my own selfish reasons. Kennedy looks gorgeous as I lead her out of the hot tub, taking special care not to slip on the wood. Her body glistens with beads of water, and steam rushes from her warm skin.

Our eyes meet when I wrap a towel around her, rubbing her arms. Without a single word, she stands on her tiptoes and kisses me. This isn’t a friendly kiss. One you waste on just anyone. No, this reminds me of the first time we kissed in her bedroom. Her bottom lip drags away from mine, and I hear myself groan.

“What’s that for?” I take a step back.

“I need a reason to kiss you?” she challenges.

“As long as you do it as often as possible,” I whisper, but I know she hears me when I glance back. A shy smile forms before she turns to hide it.

We walk through the back door. Every eye shifts to us, and the room falls silent. I glance down at Kennedy when she steps up beside me. Her fingers intertwine with mine. It’s a brilliant, long waited sight.

Kennedy’s head leans into my shoulder, and Violet’s eyes widen with excitement. “Please tell me the smile on Kennedy’s face is permanent.” She jumps around in her seat.

I ignore Violet’s inquisition. “You hungry, Ken?”

“Starving, actually.”

“What? You weren’t going to ask me to make you a delicious, romantic meal?” Rick piles ingredients on the countertop.

“No, I was going to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but if you insist,” I joke, making Kennedy laugh as I guide her to an open stool.

“Mark here was explaining to us how you two came to be together on campus again.” Amanda leans forward and rests her elbows on the counter.

“He couldn’t bear to be away from me.” I blow a kiss to Mark, and he holds up his hand to catch it.

“I’ll let you have that one.” Mark rolls his eyes.

What everyone else doesn’t know is, Mark did come up to Connecticut for me. I may have never asked him, but he heard the unspoken request and followed me here right after freshman year. Although I think it’s been hard for him to leave his family, he seems to enjoy our team. Plus, if he hadn’t moved, he wouldn’t have met Bea. I’ll remind him to thank me later.

Kennedy glances back and forth between the two of us, questioning our weird exchange, but drags her gaze to where Rico sautés something in a hot pan.

“How did you learn to cook like that?” Kennedy asks, stretching to look over his shoulder. Her nose guides her to steal a piece of chicken from the pan and pops it in her mouth. “Ahh … ahh …” She searches the counter for something to drink, fanning her hand in front of her mouth. “It’s hot.”

“Well, yeah, Kennedy.” Rico gestures to the steaming frying pan.

“You should’ve gone to culinary school.” She searches for a fork, then snatches another piece of chicken. She blows on the hunk of meat to cool it off.

“I hope to open my own restaurant one day.” Rico looks at the rest of us, then back to Ken.

His response surprises me. “Really?” I question, sitting down on the stool closest to the stove.

“I mean, it makes sense. Remember when he made us tomato soup and those fancy-ass, grilled cheese sandwiches?” Mark adds, turning to the bouncing curls beside him. “Bea, I swear to God, this was the best meal I’ve ever eaten.”

“If I ever found myself on death row, this would be the meal I’d beg for,” I reiterate Mark’s admiration.