Page 15 of Reviving Kendall

I do as he says telling the others what happened and that I’d talk to them later.

“Don’t tell them you’re with me,” he says quickly before I hit the send button.

My eyes narrow, “Why?”

He shrugs and fiddles with his keys, “I just don’t want them randomly showing up at the house tonight. I’d rather keep it just us, if that’s ok?”

I smile, “Sounds good.” When I hit the send button, Teagan’s phone beeps and he shows it to me.

“That’s pretty cool,” I admit. “Saves time.”

“Yep, and if you don’t delete the message then you won’t have to go back in and start a new one,” he says.

I nod in understanding, “Thank you.”

He grins and one arm hugs me, “You’re welcome. Now, let’s go. The night is wasting away. I’m following you.”

When I get in the car, Teagan’s scent still clings to my shirt. It smells amazing and makes my palms sweat at the same time. I wipe them on my jeans and drive home, with him right on my heels.

All the lights are off in the trailer, so that means that Gramps is already in bed. I tell Teagan to stay in the Jeep and I’ll be right back. Making quick time of it, I change clothes and am back out the door with my wallet in one pocket and phone in the other. At the last second, I remember to grab my leather jacket out of the Malibu.

When I jump in with Teagan he smiles at me and asks, “Ready?”

I let out a quiet breath and nod.

He pats my knee before backing out. Driving just as careful as Lucas had, Teagan takes back roads and we are at his house in roughly thirty minutes. He blares music and sings along never missing a lyric. My fear was absolutely non-existent the whole drive, because I kept going back and forth between laughing and singing with him.

The house that we pull up to is one of the most stunning places I’ve ever seen. It looks like it belongs in a painting from the Civil War. Plantation style columns hold up a wrap-around porch on both the top and bottom floor. There are windows everywhere and with the lights on inside, it is a fucking dream house.

“Wow,” I say quietly as Teagan comes around to help me down from the Jeep.

He doesn’t even bother looking, “I know. It’s ostentatious, but it’s what Cynthia wanted.”

“Who’s Cynthia?” I ask.

Throwing his arm around my shoulder, he looks at me and smiles, “My step-mom. Want to meet her?”

I tuck the loose strands of my hair behind my ear nervously, “I didn’t know I’d be meeting anyone tonight.”

His cheeks lift again, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Right. I may be trailer trash, but my Nana taught me southern hospitality. “It’s ok,” I tell him adjusting the bottom of my shirt to try and hide one of the holes. The last thing I want to do is embarrass him or myself.

“You’re beautiful,” he assures me.

My heart does a skip pattern at his words. There have only been three people in my life that have said them to me. Even Nana never did. She said that it made people vain. I plaster a fake smile on my face and he pulls me to a stop, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say the wrong thing.”

“It’s not you,” I admit quietly. “I’ve just got a lot of issues.”

He looks down at me for so long that it makes me feel a little awkward, so I blurt out, “Look, maybe this was a mistake. You can take me home if you want.”

Pulling me in for a hug, his voice rumbles through his chest into my ear, “You’re not going to get out of tonight that easy.” I want to have some witty comeback, but being this close to his smell has deep fried my brain. I just wrap my arms around him and live in the moment.

“Let’s go get the fire started,” he finally says. His voice is a little deeper and butterflies take flight in my stomach. Dazed, I walk hand in hand with him through the house until we come to the last room near French doors in the back. I wouldn’t be able to describe the inside if my life depended on it. I’m too distracted by Teagan.

He pulls us to a stop before we make it to the doors. There are two people in a sitting room of sorts. The woman is sitting with her feet curled under her and a book in her lap. She’s very pretty, but not much older than us. If I had to guess, I’d say twenty-five at the most. The man is just an older version of Teagan with short hair and leathery sort of face.

“Hey guys,” he says to them.

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