Page 21 of Bravo

Something about me unnerves her. I just wish I knew what it was.

CHAPTER 7

KENNEDY

Bradyn Hunt seems to be the complete package.

He’s handsome.

Kind.

Interesting.

Opens doors.

And loves his little sister. Since we ran into him in the café, Lani not only talked him into letting us crash his quiet dinner and tagging along with us to the movies, but she also got him to do the snack run while we went in and grabbed seats.

As much as I wanted to sit on the opposite side of him, Lani had saved him a seat directly next to me, forcing us to sit elbow to elbow during the movie. What I saw of it was great, at least, though I’ll admit most of my attention was on the fact that Bradyn and I kept accidentally brushing hands when either of us went for the popcorn.

I can still feel the heat climbing up my arm, radiating from where his hand brushed mine.

“So what did you think?” Lani asks as we step out onto the sidewalk.

“Huh?”

She grins at me. “The movie. Did you like it?”

“Oh, yeah. I thought it was great. Definite classic.”

“Right? I told you.” Lani links arms with me.

She’s such a force of positivity. Honestly, she reminds me a lot of a friend I had in college. My thoughts darken with the weight of memories better left buried, so I force a smile and try to keep my head on straight.

Stay focused, Kennedy.

“Do you want ice cream?” she asks.

“It’s, like, thirty degrees outside,” Bradyn argues.

“It’s never too cold for ice cream. Sammy?”

“Uh, sure. I’m good for whatever.”

“Yay. Mint chocolate chip, here we come.” Lani guides me ahead, and Bradyn falls into step behind us. Even though I can’t see him, I can feel his gaze on me. Heat climbs up the back of my neck even as unease settles in my gut.

Is he trying to figure me out? Or is he just feeling the same type of attraction I am?

As we approach the small ice cream shop, which also doubles as the town’s bakery, Bradyn rushes around to open the door, his long legs effortlessly eating up the strides between him and the building.

He holds it open, and we step inside.

The teenager working the counter grins at Lani. “Hey there, Doc. What can I get you?”

“Mint chocolate chip, please,” she says.

“You got it.” He starts scooping. “And you?” he asks me.

“The same.” I’m not even sure I like mint chocolate chip as I’ve never had it. I always go for cookie dough. But every decision I make seems like it carries enough weight it could crumble the world around me, so sometimes it’s easier to just follow along than risk saying too much.

---