Attracted to her 💘

Chapter 4

BRENT

It takes a few seconds to recover from the shock, but when I do, I hit the ground smirking. Because if there's one thing I know how to do, it's give as good as I get.

"Kennedy Randy Randolph."

Her smile drops like a barrel over Niagara Falls.
"My middle name is Suzanne."

"I know, but I never did come up with a nickname for you. Though we already considered Randy, didn't we? It wasn't a good fit—I'll keep working on it."

I shake my head, checking her out all over again. Because now that I know who she is, we're talking a whole other level of depraved interest.

"God damn. You look—"

"Yes, I know." She sighs, then gazes at her manicure in that bitchy way women do. "Thank you." There's not a shred of sincerity in her tone—like she's heard a million compliments before. Which, with her level of hotness, is possible. Except for one thing.

"What'd you do to your eyes?" I lean in, frowning.

"They're called contact lenses."

"Well, take them out. I don't like them. Your real eyes are incredible."

Breathtaking, actually—deep, warm brown with flecks of gold. I'd know Kennedy's eyes anywhere.

"What'd you do to your face?" she asks, folding her arms.

I touch my chin. "I grew a beard."

"Well ungrow it. It looks like a vagina from a 1970s porn film."

My lips twitch—because, fuck, the things that come out of her mouth.

That always did.

"I'm starting to get the impression you don't like me anymore, sweetness."

Challenge rises in her eyes. "You're assuming I actually liked you to begin with. You know what they say about people who assume, ass."

I square off against Kennedy. Game on.

"You definitely liked me. Remember that summer you flashed me your boobs? That has to count for something."

"I did not flash you my boobs." She scowls.

"You totally did. They were the first I'd ever seen—made an indelible impression."

She grinds her teeth. "I jumped in the pool and my bathing suit rode up."

"I think it was a Freudian Nip Slip. Subconsciously, you meant to do it, because you liked me."

"I think you're a pompous bastard. Possibly a sociopath."

I grin. "Doesn't mean you didn't like me."

Over Kennedy's shoulder, I catch my mother's eager gaze on us. She'd be less obvious if she had a spotlight and binoculars aimed our way.

"My mother's watching us."

Kennedy places her empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter and picks up a full one. "Of course she's watching us. For years, her greatest wish was that I'd grow up to bear your spawn."