More Than I Could (44)

“Get it. I want to see.”

“It’s in my room.”

I point at the hallway. “Then go.”

She groans, huffing out the room and glaring at me the whole way. Ah, there’s the girl I know.

Megan holds her hands out. “I didn’t know anything about that until now. I have no idea what she’s talking about.”

“It’s probably a detention,” I say, making my way closer to the stove. “Kennedy has this habit of skipping Ms. Falconbury’s class, and Ms. Falconbury has a habit of handing out detentions.”

“Well, she can’t skip class.”

“No, she cannot.”

I stop next to Megan and inspect her enchiladas. “And you said you could cook … what did you say? Decently?”

“Yeah.”

“This looks great, Megan.”

She beams. “Thanks. I didn’t want to oversell my abilities. I try really hard, and I’m pretty good with recipes. But what if I make something, and you hate it, and I’ve led you to believe I’m amazing? That would suck.”

“Or maybe you need to stop worrying about what people think of you and be confident in who you are.”

I didn’t mean it as a throwback to our conversation last night, but it does apply. And she applies it.

Her eyes twinkle with something—gratitude? Hope? I don’t know. But I do know that I could stand here all day and take it in.

Get away from her, Chase.

I head to the sink and wash my hands under hot water. Twice. Just to take up more time.

“How was your day at work?” she asks.

“Same shit, different day. How was your day here? Did things go okay?”

“Yup. I did the laundry in the bathroom and mudroom. I folded it all and sorted it for you and Kennedy, but I didn’t want to put it away. It felt like an invasion of your privacy.”

I grin.

She leans next to me, the soft scent of jasmine taunting me, and grins too. “Wanna know something?”

“What?”

“I wanted to be nosy. I wanted to go in your room and put your things away so I could snoop around.”

I turn the water off and flick the water from my hands at her. She squeals as I grab a towel. My plan is to head to the table and wait on Kennedy. But like I’m on autopilot, I find myself at the sink again to be next to her.

“What do you think you’d find?” I ask.

“Something good, I hope.”

I chuckle. “Like what?”

She bites her lip. It takes everything in me not to pop it free and sink my mouth against hers.

But I don’t.

“Like what?” I ask again. “Whips? Chains? Handcuffs?”

Her eyes go wide.

I laugh. “I’m kidding.”

She sighs, and I’m unsure if she’s relieved or disappointed.

“Or am I?” I ask.

She shoves me, knocking me off balance. My chest bounces as I try not to laugh too loudly at her.

“You and I had an agreement,” she says, checking the doorway for Kennedy. “We were pretending this didn’t exist.”

“What didn’t exist?”

She looks at me like I’m ignorant.

“What are you talking about, Megan?” I grin mischievously, lowering my mouth to her ear. “Oh, right. We were pretending I don’t want to taste your pussy.”

She bats at my arm. I pull away, laughing way too hard.

“You just brought that up,” she says, pointing at me. “Not me. I’ve not broken our deal.”

“Semantics, sweetheart.”

She blushes at the term of endearment—the one I didn’t mean to say. Instead of recanting the word, I act like I don’t realize I said it.

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Semantics, my ass. I didn’t say a word.”

“Oh, come on. Like you weren’t thinking it.”

“But I didn’t say it.”

You didn’t have to. I roll my eyes. “I just came home from work. You’re the one speculating about what’s inside my bedroom. I won’t see an imprint of you on my bed, will I?”

She looks surprised. Slowly, the surprise turns into a mischievous grin. “No, but that would’ve been a damn good idea. Make you lie in bed all night wondering what I did on your blankets.”

Well, that would be a slight deviation from wondering what I’d do to you on my blankets.

“Here it is,” Kennedy says loudly, marching into the room. “Don’t be pissed.”

“There’s always tomorrow,” Megan whispers before returning to the enchiladas.

I want to say something back and deal with the heat building in my groin, but a detention notice is thrust into my hands. Nice cock block.

“Here’s the thing,” Kennedy says, hands on her hips. “I was there. I didn’t skip class.”

“Ken, please. Don’t lie to me.”

Her jaw drops. “I was there, Dad. I mean it. I was as shocked as you are when I got that today.”

“After this exact conversation last week, I find that hard to believe.”

“Dad.”

“I thought we were getting somewhere. I thought you were going to do better.”