Page 35 of His Pretty Little Lies
“They aren’t?” I shake my head no, hitting the button for the elevator. The doors slide open, and I step on.
I almost hit her floor and the key code but control myself. Not going to freak her out when we’re so close to her home. It’s better that those things happen when I have her on the farm. Then it’s not so easy for her to get away. Not that she could either way, but there's no need to make things harder than they need to be. I mean, she hasn’t reacted badly to my obsessive, overbearing ways yet, but I don’t want to chance it. She doesn’t need to know the extent of the details I know about every part of her life, for now.
Kinsley grows quiet, shifting on her feet as she nibbles her bottom lip. “I know, Bunny. We won’t deal with it today.” I knew the topic of her parents was going to be an issue. They can go fuck themselves for all I care. If they wanted to put in their two cents on who Kinsley hangs around, they should have taken a more active role in her life. I’ll play nice with them for her sake. For the time being.
“I’m sorry, I’m a jerk.” Shit, her eyes have filled with unshed tears.
“You’re not a jerk.” I pull her to me. “And I get it. We can all pretend we don’t give a shit about our parents’ reactions, but it still can hit you hard.” Even if she doesn't owe it to them. That'son them. They'll learn soon enough that Kinsley can choose if she wants them in her life or not.
“But you didn’t do anything, and I know they won’t be happy about you. People just judge you.”
“Bunny.” I grip her chin to make her look up at me. My sister can turn on the waterworks, and I’ll shake my head. Kinsley here is about to unman me, and she hasn’t spilled a tear yet. “How your parents feel about me has nothing to do with you. Don’t apologize for them.”
"I know." She puffs out a small breath.
"And don't feel bad for me. People can't help but judge, and it's not as though my family hasn't earned some of it." We might not be fully by the book, but it's a big-ass difference from how my grandfather and great-grandfather ran things. I'm not proud of all the shit they participated in. “Sometimes, judging people keeps you alive."
"You are so good with your words." Kinsley shakes her head. "Making me laugh and then being wise."
"I'm not all-wise. I fucked with Jim because I know I can."
"Well, my vibes aren't great when it comes to him."
The jury is still out on him for me. I don’t know if he’s one of those teachers who enjoys the power and it goes to their head a little too much, or if he is an asshole I need to keep an eye on. Either way, he got the message loud and clear. If he’s as smart as he thinks his glasses and bow tie make him look, then he’ll tread lightly when it comes to Kinsley.
"Let's get your stuff packed." When we step off the elevator, the door swings open.
"Mary, you're here," Kinsley says, standing still.
"You brought a boy home." Mary, the small gray-haired woman, hugs her and then me. "Very handsome."
"All right, this one is mine."
"And he's Italian," Mary says, her tone pleased. I tell her hello in Italian. Mary responds that it’s lovely to see me. “Is he the friend's place where you stayed last night?” Kinsley's cheeks start to pinken, the blush spreading. I’ll take that over the tears.
“And tonight,” I add, making it clear why we are packing a bag.
“Come.” She ushers us inside.
“This is Mary; she can be a bit of a mother hen when it comes to me,” Kinsley says with a smile. Yeah, I know. Mary is a good one, and I’m not going off vibes. I know this for a fact. Just like I know a lot of things when it comes to the people around Kinsley.
“You met my mother,” I remind her.
“Is it an Italian thing?”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “Or love.” Kinsley’s whole face softens at my response. I don’t know if it’s an Italian thing or not. My family has always been close. We were taught that you stick together and you never have to worry about who is at your back.
Mary has us stop in the kitchen to snack on a few things she made. I watch as she and Kinsley go back and forth in banter.
“Is there anything I need to know? Two nights away.”
“Jax is helping me with a story.”
“Is that so?” Mary’s eyes bounce between the two of us. “Didn’t know the Marinos talked to the press,” she teases.
“Right? I think he’s obsessed with me or something.” Kinsley laughs. I don’t. There is noor something. I am simply obsessed. Not sure if that’s an Italian thing either. It might be a Marino thing.
"Do we need to talk about safe sex?" Mary asks next. If I thought I had seen Kinsley blush before, I was fucking wrong. She turns cherry red.
