Loving Kinnick (Rewritten)

How Often Do You Hug People?

Kinnick insisted on walking me home, for whatever reason. Instead of walking home alone, he said it would make him feel better if he joined. After showing him the pocket knife in my backpack and how safe I would be since I had it, I lost it. I couldn't even open it. And I dropped it, so, now we have been searching the grass for the past twenty minutes.

A huff pressed past my lips. "It is gone. I'll just buy a new one."

"How about switching it out for mace?" He suggested with a hint of humor on the tip of his tongue. "You can hook it to your keys since you carry them around everywhere. It'd be easier to access."

"Well, you said you are my personal chauffeur," I smiled up at him. "So, I guess I don't need any mace or pocket knives. If you are my chauffeur, by the way, why are you walking me home? I mean, what happened to your truck? You never did tell me why you chose to walk."

"It is nice out," he shrugged. "And I get to spend more time with you if we walk."

"Oh."

"Oh," he repeated with a smile. "Come to my fight tomorrow."

"I don't want to see you lose," I roll my eyes to focus on the ground. "It'd be pretty embarrassing for you, to lose for the first time, in front of not only this stranger, but all of the people attending. Why would I want to see that? I'd have to record it, spread it on the internet, and then I'd be famous -"

"Boston."

My cheeks flush with heat. "Sorry - I was rambling, wasn't I? I do that sometimes when I'm nervous or under pressure. For some reason, you make me nervous but safe, and I think you're cute -"

I didn't expect him to grab my trembling hand, but he did. "I think you're pretty cute too."

I squint my eyes at him and snatch my hand away from his hold. "And I think I am going to speed this walk up."

"You don't enjoy the cold?"

"It doesn't whip me into a verbal frenzy."

A smirk grew on his plump lips. "I'd say otherwise."

I smacked his chest and watched as he rubbed over it with mock hurt. "Why do you want me to go to this fight so badly?"

"You've never been to one," he cocked a brow. "It'd rock your world -"

"That's what she said," I smacked my hand over my mouth. "Sorry - long day."

His laughter made my body erupt in goosebumps. "I'll see you in class tomorrow, right?"

As I walked up the stairs, I turned around to see him one last time. "Of course you will."

"I am looking forward to it," he pulled out a cigarette. "Have a good night, Bo."

I wasn't sure how to admit that I had feelings for a man with a demeanor I felt utterly intrigued by. Everything about him screamed to stay away, but I found myself wanting to be around him. The caution tape wrapped around his body should have been the first warning sign.

How am I falling for someone I barely know? My dad despises him, along with half of everyone who lives in this town. Of course, he would be the one I felt attracted to. I am a hopeless romantic. I fantasize about a novel-worthy love. I searched for love as if I had never been hurt.

I carried baggage. Anyone who's dealt with a traumatizing experience understands that. I wondered if that had something to do with my failed love life. With every new relationship, they seemed to one-up one another. It's as if I couldn't get a break. It was my fault, however. I kept searching for the same man, even if I didn't realize it.