Page 9 of Waiting Forever
I fight the urge to shove people out of my way so I can get to her. The rush and memory from when I last saw her has me on edge with the need to protect. Insane, because part of that urge is directed at me, as well as any guy who looks at her.
My dad wouldn’t tell me what happened to her back in Dallas, just that she went through something messed up and I need to guard her with my life.
Whatever occurred caused major problems with the family. When she threatened to leave town on her own, her parents sent her here. She wouldn’t have gotten far had she left. Bryce could track her easily with the business.
My dad also told me not to ask her what happened. If she tells me, fine, but for now she doesn’t want me to know the truth. She’s too ashamed, which pisses me off more.
Like I’d ever be ashamed of anything she did? I spent most of my life defending her, and now she doesn’t trust me?
It’ll take everything in me not to ask. If someone, some guy, hurt her—I gulp and clench my fingers into fists. I’ll kill the bastard. Fucking kill him.
I step off the escalator and all but run to conveyer belt six.
Once again, I spot that hair and stop dead in my tracks. Kensi’s eyes are closed as she tilts her head from side to side, stretching her neck like it’s stiff.
She arches her back, sticking out her tits, her nipples hard and clear as day through her thin T-shirt. Her bag rests at her feet, and her outfit is the opposite of sexy: workout leggings, gray sneakers, and a baggy shirt that hangs to her thighs. She’s not wearing makeup. Her tan skin glows, her hair as shiny as ever. I take back my earlier thought. Even dressed like this, she’s sexy. Breathtaking.
I scan the crowd, noting a few guys and older men sneaking peeks at her as if they can’t help themselves. Fuck.
This is not what I expected when I agreed to watch over her. This is going to be a damn full-time job. Harper isn’t going to like it, and if I don’t get my head on straight and my attraction to Kensi under control, this whole thing could blow up in my face.
4
Kensington
ALMOST THREE HOURS on a plane has me sore and stiff all over. The seat was comfortable enough because Dad insisted I fly first class. It was the way I fell asleep, slumped to the side, my head hanging forward.
I don’t like flying alone. I’ve only ever flown with my dad and mom or just with Mom when we visit her family in the UK.
It’s always first class, too, which never bothered me because I was with them but this time it did. I was the youngest person in first class who wasn’t with family. I didn’t belong there. My family has money—I don’t. I’m just a college student.
I twist my waist and my back cracks, finally. Much better.I relax my posture, tug at my oversized T-shirt, and glance at the people standing around the conveyer belt.
All strangers. Perfect. No one knows me or what happened to me. What theythinkhappened. My friends don’t even believe the real story. They think I’m exaggerating because I’m embarrassed. In part, I am embarrassed. I was stupid to believe my asshole ex-boyfriend’s best friend when he invited me to a party during the day, and more humiliated that I skipped my classes to go alone. The lack of cars in the driveway should have been a clue there was no party, but I thought maybe I was early.
“Your first instinct is usually right,”Dad has told me more times than I can count.
But I didn’t listen to my gut. The whole thing had been a setup—payback from my ex—and now I’m here and my parents are in England.
I sigh and remind myself it’s for the best. When Dad found out what happened to me, he set out to beat the asses of the two boys involved. As an ex-SEAL, he’s no stranger to violence and killing. My fear was that he would kill them, and sit happily in jail for it, too.
That’s why I threatened to leave, with the hope it would blow over without me around. Mom assured me this isn’t something my dad can forgive and forget. She came up with the idea to move to London, her hometown.
They’d been talking about opening a security branch there and this gave them the opportunity. Nathan’s dad had to force my dad on the plane with the promise that his son would watch out for me. He doesn’t want his friend to end up in jail, either. Although, given that Uncle Colton served as a SEAL with my dad, I have no doubt he would have joined Dad on his mission to kill the boys, and then they’d both be in jail. Their lives destroyed, the business lost, and their two wives left to grow old alone because of me.
Moving to London was the only way to save Dad from destroying his life over college kids, who aren’t even old enough to drink legally.
A clunk sounds from behind the opening where the luggage comes out. I wait for the conveyer belt to move. It doesn’t.
Ugh.I read that MCO is slower than other airports when it comes to luggage. I didn’t realize how slow. At least I know where I’m going. I learned a lot about the airport when I researched the layout so I wouldn’t get lost. In case Nathan doesn’t show.
My shoulders slump, and I stare blindly at my bag on the floor, trying not to recall the way he blew me off at my seventeenth birthday party.
Ever since I spotted Nathan with his shirt off when he was sixteen while playing football at a company picnic, I’ve been infatuated with him. All those muscles flexing. His eight-pack abs. The sweat glistening off his tan skin. The way his golden-brown hair fell around his face and eyes. His physique screams,I’ll fuck you up without breaking a sweat. Even with his pretty-boy face that is so James Dean it’s not even funny. An obsession of mine since I first sawRebel Without a Causeyears ago. For all I know, Nathan is James Dean reincarnated, because they both throw the same smoldering look that could send a girl to her knees—or send her panties to her knees.
Stop thinking about him, Kensi. Nothing can and will ever happen between you two.We kissed. So what? It’s not as if it meant anything to him. Not in the earth-shattering way it did to me.
Plus, he bailed without a good-bye—for the second time in my life. Since then, he’s skipped out on every company picnic and retreat. The message doesn’t get any clearer than that.
