Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3)(103)

Laughing, I set her down, wrapped my hand up in hers. “You’re really gonna put me through this, huh?”

She stepped out in front of me, still holding my hand, grinning as she walked backward and led me up the walk. “How are they supposed to fall in love with you if they don’t know you?”

“I can think of quite a few things I’m sure your dad would rather do to me than fall in love,” I said, letting the sarcasm drip free.

She giggled. “Oh, come on, don’t be a wuss. There’s a whole lot to love. On both sides. They’re not all that bad. You’ll see. My dad wants the best for me. He just doesn’t always know what that is.”

I gave her a wry grin. “And you think that’s me?”

“I know that’s you.”

That was the thing about Kenz. She loved her family, and she’d been their sweet, innocent girl, destined for great things, until she’d run too fast into the speed bump that was me.

I shoved off the niggle of guilt.

The fact I’d derailed the direction of her life.

But I guess she’d done a little derailing herself.

“Don’t be nervous,” she mouthed as she opened the door.

She wanted all of us close, and I was willing to suffer through a night with her parents if it made her happy.

It was her birthday, after all, and after this evening, I was stealing her away. I knew that fact couldn’t come easy for either of them.

I adjusted the collar on my button-up shirt, shifted in the dress slacks I’d worn to put my best foot forward.

“He’s here,” she called as she led me through the living room toward the kitchen. Their place was nice, everything in order and tidy and clean, so much different than the chaos that reigned at my parents’ place. Her dad was a public defender, so he wasn’t close to raking in the bucks, but I knew it kept them comfortable.

What wasn’t comfortable was the silence that solidified the air in the kitchen when we walked in.

Her mom was at the stove, frozen mid-turn, her father with one hip leaned up against the counter and his arms crossed over his chest.

Going rigid and hard the second his sight caught on me.

Sure.

I’d spoken to them both before.

Multiple times.

But it’d never exactly been on friendly terms.

It was her mother, Deborah, who finally broke. A stiff smile cracked her face. “Lyrik…welcome to our home.”

Kenzie gave me an encouraging glance.

See.

“Thank you for having me,” I returned, gaze sliding to her father then back to her.

In what seemed like disgust, he shook his head, before he seemed to come to a decision. He breathed out heavily as he extended his hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Lyrik.”

I was hoping someday that might actually be true. That he’d really think it nice to see me. I mean, I’d dropped the band. The lifestyle. Got clean. All for them. Was hoping eventually he’d see that when it came to his daughter, all my intentions were good.

I shook his hand. “Thank you, sir.”

He eyed me warily, before he shook his head again, this time with a resigned laugh. “Come on, let’s eat.”

It really wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, making conversation with Kenzie’s parents, seeing how much they cared, so much like mine. All any of them wanted was for our lives to be good. Of course, there would be some differences on what that looked like, but I was going to do my all to make sure Kenzie’s life was good. To make sure his life was good.

Yeah. His. We’d seen him on an ultrasound two weeks ago. It was kind of mind-blowing, seeing just what was happening inside her, that he was real and whole. Heart beating. They said everything looked good. He was strong and growing fine. Since then, the shrouded fear and guilt Kenzie had seemed to wear the whole time had vanished.

After we ate dinner, Deborah brought out a round cake and set it in the middle of the table. A ring of eighteen candles burned around it. Kenzie glanced at me before she closed her eyes for a beat, making her wish, then blew them out.

Deborah’s cake was all kinds of delicious. I told her so and she grinned a genuine smile. Kenzie moved to her father sitting in his chair, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Daddy.”

He sighed, then smiled. “Anything for my girl.”

“I love it,” she said as she spun in the living room furnished with the shabby couch my parents had given me, a scratched-up coffee table I’d picked up at a used store, and the TV from my bedroom back at the house I’d shared with the guys.

“It’s small.” It almost came out a pout as I felt a sudden rush of self-consciousness.

She smiled. “It’s ours.”

She turned fully toward me. Sobering. Voice soft.

“Tell me you love me.”

I took a single step forward. Touched her face. “You sing my soul.”

“I’m so grateful for everything we got today, but I have to admit, this is my favorite,” Kenzie whispered into the calm, clutching the mismatched patchwork teddy bear.

A smile fluttered around her mouth, eyes flicking down to meet mine. “I can’t believe you made this.”

It was a murmur. Deep and reverent.

That’s what tonight felt like, as we lay curled up in the quiet darkness on our bed.