Page 8 of Faux Real
She licks her lips, taking a step closer to me, her arms reaching up and grabbing the lapels of my leather jacket. “What are you doing?” I ask warily, leaning back, trying not to fall over the motorcycle.
Kennedy looks over my shoulder one more time and frowns. Before I can crane my neck to take a look at whatever the fuck, she’s glaring at, she lifts herself on her toes and aggressively flings her face forward, her lips crashing against mine.Dear God, she actually is mental!I try to push her off, but my brain and body don’t seem to be on speaking terms right now, so instead, I wrap my arms around her waist and kiss her back.Fuck, maybe I’m mental too!
She pulls away quickly, stumbling back and covering her mouth, her eyes widening with blatant embarrassment. I blink at her, completely puzzled.
“What the fuck was that?” I ask, pushing myself upright and brushing my fingers against my lips.So sticky!Was she wearing fucking lipgloss?
“I—uh,” she stammers, biting her lip, her fingers fidgeting. “I gotta go!” She turns on her heel.
Oh, I don’t fucking think so!“The hell you do!” I reach out and grab her forearm, tugging her back toward me. “Not before you explain to me why my mouth is covered in sparkling gunk."
Kennedy whimpers, looking around like she’s trying to find help.Not so brave now, is she?“It was an accident?”
I blink. “You expect me to believe that youaccidentallygrabbed my collar and pounced on me like a cat in heat?”
She nods timidly. “Yeah?”
“Unlike you, I’m not an idiot.” This must have something to do with Malibu Ken; she was relatively normal before he came around. “Who was that guy you were staring at?”
Her eyes widen. “What guy?” she peeps, her tone rising several octaves. “There was no guy.”
Leaning down so that we’re face-to-face, I whisper, “Stop lying to me. I think that afterassaultingme like that, you owe me an explanation.”
Kennedy crosses her arms defensively and scoffs. “Assault?”
“Yes, assault. I should report you to the headmaster!”
“Oh my God, you can’t be serious. You kissed me back, if I remember correctly.”
I bite my tongue. Fuck, she noticed. “I was coerced.”
She snorts, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “By who?”
“Whom,” I correct her in a clipped tone. “Clearly, GPAs are no longer testaments of one’s intelligence.”
Kennedy’s face turns a light hue of pink as she shoves me. “You are just—” She stomps her foot on the ground, which causes me to let out a low chuckle.
“I’m what?” I ask in a taunting tone. “Finish your sentence, love.”
She balls up her fists, her features contorting. “I so want to punch you right now,” she seethes, her frighteningly enraged eyes piercing into mine.
“Wouldn’t be your first assault of the day now, would it?” I smirk, angling my jaw toward her. “Come on now, do it.”
Kennedy closes her eyes, low squeaks escaping her throat. “I hate you!” she exclaims, running a manic hand through her hair.
I laugh. She’s kind of cute when she looks like she’s about to explode. “Evidently not though since you kissed me.”
“Oh my God, will you let that go? I did it because my ex-boyfriend was holding hands with Corrine fucking Davis. It had nothing to do with you, okay?”
My jaw drops. “Youusedme?” I grab my chest dramatically. “I feeldirty.”
Kennedy rolls her eyes. “Youaredirty,” she states flatly. “I’m done with this.” She points to the motorcycle. “Get this shit off the grass or I’ll write you up next time I see you.”
Write me up? What the hell is she talking about? “What do you mea—”
I’m cut off by her hand in my face. “Stop talking and just move your bike.” She blinks, a tight smile spreading across her face. “Please?”
My blood boils. She thinks just because she said please I’m going to bend the knee like some simp? How idiotic. “No!” I huff.
