Page 42 of Tempting

—Kenzie’s Secret Thoughts

It’s close to midnight when I walk past Nixon’s door and let myself into my own condo, only instead of being exhausted like I should be, I’m thinking about a certain sexy hockey player and his bossy demand that I let him know I’m home. My inner independent feminist is pretty sure I should have told him no one has told me what to do outside of an operating room in a long damn time. But I didn’t... why didn’t I? Oh, that’s easy. Because it was fucking hot.

Why is everything he does such a turn-on?

I kick off my jeans, shoving them to the corner of my bedroom, and take in my reflection in the oversized, freestanding mirror propped up in the corner of the room. Standing here in a white, ribbed tank top and cheeky black panties, I don’t look like much. The tan I worked so hard for during my break between residency and starting my job is fading. I’ve lost a few pounds I probably couldn’t afford to lose. My boobs are pretty great though.

I turn to the side and smile at my reflection. My curves are more pronounced this way, and my ass might be small, but it’s curvy. Definitely a solid handful.

I can’t help but wonder what Nixon would think if he was standing here now.

Should I text him?

I pull my phone from my purse and look at the time staring back at me.

I mean, he did tell me to text him, and we’re basically supposed to be each other’s booty calls, right?

At least once we have sex, that’s what we’ll be.

Really, what’s the harm in calling?

He’s probably sound asleep with Gordie snoring at the foot of his bed.

I doubt he’ll even wake up to see the text.

What can it hurt?

Kenzie

Just got home. Going to pour a glass of wine and go to bed. XOXO

I decide to delete the x’s and o’s. Seriously... who do I think I am, the Kroydon Kronicles?

Kenzie

Just got home. Going to pour a glass of wine and go to bed. Hopefully you’re sleeping and this didn’t wake you up.

There. That’s better. I send that one off and grab a bottle of Riesling from my fridge and a wine glass from the cabinet. I’m alone with no one to judge, so I fill that bitch all the way up, grab mint chocolate chip ice cream from the fridge, and ask Alexa to play my favorite Eddie Vedder song. Ironically, the song is about seizing the day.

I slip my bra off and sing into my spoon as I dance around my kitchen in pink fuzzy socks, panties, and a tank. As the song slides into the next, my phone vibrates on the counter next to the bottle of wine.

Nixon

Let me in.

Oh shit. I guess he was awake.

Nixon

Ihear music coming from the other side of the wall while I wait outside her door. Pretty sure I can hear her singing too. At least I can until I send my text. The singing stops then.

This woman is one giant contradiction. One I can’t figure out, but I’m going to give it my best shot.

She’s unbelievably beautiful but has no clue.

Sexy as hell, but she’d never believe it.

Brilliant but clumsy.

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