“Finn talks about his friends all the time. It hasn’t been a huge topic of discussion, though. The murders, I mean.”
“Right. Of course not. I mean, who wants to talk about such depressing issues when you can spend time making out, right?” she teases, nudging my shoulder, trying to lighten up the mood.
“Right,” I grumble, uncomfortable with the discussion of my sex life with a total stranger, no matter how good of a friend she might be to Finn.
“Are you happy?” she asks all of a sudden, halting our step inside the vast dressing room, her eyes drilling holes into my head.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I know Finn is happy. That you are making him happy. But is he doing the same for you?” she continues to interrogate me.
I unlatch her arm from mine and face her head-on, wanting to make it completely clear to her that we are definitely not going to have a heart-to-heart. We’re not BFFs, and this isn’t some teenage rom-com where we are about to do a montage of the popular girl giving the town’s reject a makeover to impress the jock.
Fuck that!
Kennedy turns around and closes the door, asking the clerks to give us some privacy so that I can try on the first dress. However, when she turns my way again, the look on her face is dead-serious.
“So? Is he?”
“I don’t see why my happiness is any of your business.”
The minute the words fall from my lips, a predatory, feline gaze begins to simmer in her eyes, and a sick sense of déjà vu slaps me across the face—I’ve seen this same vulturous look somewhere before, and it had left me just as unnerved then as I am now.
What the hell is going on?
Have I met Kennedy before today? I mean, I could have. We are attending the same university, so I’m sure I’ve bumped into her before.
But that stare.
The unsettling prick on the nape of my neck is somehow familiar to me. It’s reminiscent of something that, for the life of me, I can’t recall. Or maybe I don’t want to.
I school my face as best I can, trying to look unaffected, so the Barbie doesn’t realize she’s getting to me. But instead of toning down her nefarious gaze, she just amplifies it, twisting her stunning features into something lethal. So much so, I take a step back from her to gain enough room in case I need to throw a bitch down.
“I know coming into our world may be a little overwhelming for you, so I understand you putting up your defenses. Finn, however, is a typical guy. I doubt he has a total grasp on what a big deal it is bringing you as a date to his father’s birthday party. But you and I aren’t that clueless, are we?” I roll my tongue over my teeth, her domineering gaze never faltering as she continues with her rant, “By him bringing you along, he’s telling all of Ashville that you are the woman he wants to be with. All I’m asking is are you ready for such a commitment? Because, honey, I have to be honest with you. If you do this, you can’t be of two minds about it. You’re either all in, or not. And if you’re not, maybe you should reconsider your choices.”
“Tell me something, Kennedy. Did Finn ask you to help me pick out a dress this afternoon, or did you offer to do it?” I ask suspiciously, thinking this chick has an agenda all of her own.
“I offered, of course.” The corner of her lip tugs into a mischievous smile.
“And did you do that because you like shopping so much, or because you wanted to size me up? Or perhaps you wanted to tell me where my place is at?” I ask her, point-blank.
Her snicker becomes a full-blown, carefree laugh once again, the devious glare no longer governing her face.
“He said you were super smart, too. I’m glad to see he wasn’t just blowing smoke,” she replies with a giggle, not denying my suspicions.
“So that’s it. You wanted to check me out and see if I’m good enough for your little group,” I sneer, pissed as hell that this debutant wanted to vet me for their rich club.
Her former grin dissipates from her face, making the serious glower that was previously embedded in her eyes return at full force.
“Not at all. I just wanted to make sure Finn is giving