Huge Deal - Lauren Layne Page 0,71
“It’s good. Really good. But not regular.”
“Oh my God, it’s true!” Sabrina’s eyes were wide. “After all of this time, you and Kennedy finally hooked up.”
“Wait! You said you already knew!”
“I mean, I had my suspicions from that glow you’re rocking, but now I know for sure. Spill the details. When? Where? How many times?”
“Twice,” Kate said, holding up two fingers. “Once last Sunday, and it was just spontaneous, and casual, and . . .” Mind-blowing.
“And the other time?”
“Wednesday,” Kate admitted. “We were both working late, and he asked if I wanted to go to dinner.”
“And then you did it after dinner?”
“We never got there,” Kate said, trying not to blush as she remembered the very dirty things she’d done to Kennedy in his office.
“Nice,” Sabrina said.
Had Kate not been looking at Sabrina, she might have missed the flicker of concern that went along with her approving tone.
“What was that?” Kate said, pointing at Sabrina’s face. “That look.”
Sabrina had always been direct, and tonight was no different. “I’m worried about you.”
“Why? Aren’t there studies showing that sex is life-affirming or some such?” Kate said, picking a piece of cheddar off the cheese board and nibbling the corner, even though she wasn’t really hungry. “Besides, you’re the one who told me to scratch my itch.”
“Yes. But doing it more than once takes you solidly out of fling territory. Take it from me: more than once means something.”
“It means that Kennedy has a really great body.”
“Kate,” Sabrina said softly. “I’m glad you’re having good sex. Thrilled. But are you positive it’s not more than that? You were in love with him once. You’ve said so.”
“Yes. Once. But that doesn’t mean I’m in love with him now.”
Her friend gave her a skeptical look.
“I still care about him,” Kate admitted. “But I don’t want a relationship. Neither does he.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yes. I—Wait, what do you know?”
“Nothing. Really. It’s just that after the night on the boat with you two—”
Kate stilled. “You know about that?” She hadn’t told a soul. Not even her girlfriends.
“Kennedy told the guys, and Matt mentioned that something had happened with you two.”
“Wait, what?” Kate blinked. “Why would Kennedy mention that to them?”
“I don’t think it was a salacious gossip fest or anything,” Sabrina rushed to reassure her. “I mean, Matt didn’t get, like, details on your bra size.”
Kate winced.
“Sorry. I just mean it wasn’t a locker-room type of conversation. I think Kennedy told them because it mattered. To him. I think you matter to him.”
You’re mine now.
The memory of that night rushed back at Kate, bittersweet and tormenting.
She didn’t know if she was ready for that tender, possessive version of Kennedy—if she’d ever been. She’d caught a glimpse of him that day at the park, and it had both exhilarated and terrified her. For now, she wanted the casual Kennedy. The version from this past week that had been sexy and flirtatious, even a little bit charming.
“We’re on the same page now.” I think. “We’ve gotten the sexual tension out of our systems, and now we can go back to just being colleagues and friends.”
“Friends.” Sabrina didn’t bother to hide her skepticism.
“Yes. Like you and Kennedy are friends. Like he and Lara are friends.”
“Okay, but there’s a huge difference. Two, actually,” Sabrina said. “We didn’t use to fantasize about him putting a ring on our finger. And we haven’t seen him naked.”
“Well, I no longer want his ring on my finger, and the naked thing is just . . .” Kate tried for cool but couldn’t hide her blush.
Sabrina noticed. “That good, huh? I mean, the guy works out. A lot.”
“I don’t kiss and tell.”
Sabrina picked up a wine bottle. “Have some more of this, and maybe you’ll get around to the good stuff. Better yet, have one of those Testicle Mules that Gabby and Lara downed like water.”
“Yuck, we are not calling them that.”
“Says the woman who brought anal beads to the party,” Sabrina said, nodding at the grapes.
“Hey, you made her a tiara out of condom wrappers.”
“Protection is important. Mostly I’m hoping we get to play pin-the-dick on Ian.” She pointed at the cardboard cutout Kate had ordered online. Ian’s face had been superimposed on a male model, naked except for a fig leaf.
“Yeah, but did you see they sent along, like, twenty different types of dicks?” Kate said. “I think the idea is for Lara to pick the one that most resembles Ian. I don’t really want to know that. Do you?”
“Yikes, no.” Sabrina winced. “I