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“Don’t worry, I’ll keep your name out of it,” Kendra told her. “I’ll call you ‘anonymous sources close to the family.’”
Holly groaned and buried her face in a couch cushion. “My biggest flaw,” she moaned. “I get carried away and I don’t know when to stop talking.”
“Honey, why don’t you lighten up on yourself?” Kendra got to her feet and stretched her arms overhead. “You’re seventeen. Of course you don’t have everything figured out. What would you do with the rest of your life if you did?”
“Not helping.”
So much for offering comfort.
“Okay, maybe a little,” Holly murmured as her phone buzzed.
Across the room, Rusty stirred himself off the dog bed. He surged to his feet and ambled toward them with a yawn. Kendra bent down to pet him. “Ready for a walk, big guy?”
At the familiar word “walk,” he trotted toward the door.
Kendra waved goodbye to Holly, who barely glanced up from the text she was reading on her phone. “Kendra! We’re friends again! Me and Chloe! She says she knows I meant well and I’m not a toxic friend and she’s going to start a new hashtag for me.”
Maybe that’s what I need, Kendra thought as she helped Rusty into the back of her dad’s truck. A new hashtag. #HeartbreakBeGone. #FuckingDominic. Or how about #I’mGoingtoEnjoyMyLife? #HotSex? #HottieFireman #IsYourFeverDownYetBecauseI’mIntoThisJasonMosedale?
Then again, hashtag “why didn’t you trust me enough to tell me about your learning disability” had a ring to it. As did hashtag “you look like a million bucks even if you don’t have any.”
But none of that mattered for a rebound. He didn’t have to share his secrets with her. She wanted Jason. With or without a disability, with or without a million dollar bank account.
Thirteen
“So, locker-buddy.” A throaty voice pulled Jason from his half-slumber. He’d been dozing off and on throughout the day, feeling better each time he awoke, but allowing himself to fall back asleep because sleep seemed to be working. The most he’d done all day was shower and brush his teeth. “How’s the pain on a scale of, um, public speaking to winning a million dollars?”
He opened his eyes to see Kendra posing next to his bed, hip cocked one way, head cocked the other way. The pose did something to his own cock, so that must be a positive sign. She wore shorts that left her long brown legs bare. He reached for her without thinking, and slid a hand up her thigh.
“That good?” That sassy smile brought him all the way awake.
“And more.” He curved his hand around the back of her thigh and tugged her closer. She obliged, stepping right to the edge of the bed.
“I know you’re glad to see me, but maybe you should spare some welcome vibes for this guy.” On cue, Rusty nosed his way past her and stuck his snout in Jason’s face.
“Aw, buddy. I missed you.” He scrunched his fingers in the ruff of fur at Rusty’s neck, right where he liked it. The dog’s back leg slapped against the floor.
“Universal signal for don’t stop.” Kendra sidestepped the dog and climbed onto the foot of the bed. He moved his legs aside to give her space.
After a few more moments of loving on his old Irish Setter, he gestured to Rusty to go sit in the corner of the room. Since Rusty was getting up there in years, he didn’t mind heading off for a snooze.
“So. You’re really doing better?” Kendra asked. “Everyone wants an update on the most famous patient in town.”
“I think the fever’s gone. My head isn’t threatening to self-detonate. I haven’t sneezed since your dad brought me lunch.”
“What’d he bring you?”
One of her smooth legs was bent under her, the other stretched out straight. He set his hand on her bare knee. He couldn’t keep his hands off her. “Pulled pork, cornbread and collard greens. I even ate the greens, so I must be feeling better.”
“He brought you collards?” She pulled an impressed face. “He doesn’t share those with just anyone. I hope you showed them some respect.”
“Ate every speck. It’s all in here.” He pulled the blanket down to pat his bare stomach. All he wore was the extra pair of boxers Holly had brought him.
Her gaze traveled down his torso. She checked him out so thoroughly that it felt practically physical. Then it became physical when she scooted forward on the bed and traced a finger down his pecs. “Do you have to be a stud to be a firefighter?”
“No, but it doesn’t hurt.” He grinned at her.
She touched his jaw, where a good quarter inch of black beard had sprouted. “And what’s with the scruff? Will you have to get rid of that to be fire chief?”
