Page 68 of Miss Matched

Zac

“Ibroughtyoua sandwich.” Kennedy waves two baggies at me as she climbs out a second story window onto the roof.

Her foot almost slips on a loose shingle.

“Fuck, be careful!” I rush over and grab onto her arm until she steadies.

She gives me a sideways glare and sits down with her back against the second-story siding. “This isn’t my first time on a roof.”

I sit down next to her, and as she hands me the sandwich, I realize I’m starving.

“Guessing you aren’t afraid of heights, then.” I take a large bite of turkey and Swiss and groan—it tastes so good. I didn’t bring Kennedy with me today to make me food and fetch me water while I worked, but I’m not complaining.

“Nope, not afraid of heights,” she says, sinking her teeth into her own sandwich. “Although I did get a little nervous the first time I went skydiving.”

“The first time?” My eyebrows pinch.

“Bit of a risk-taking streak back in college.” She smiles. “Skydiving, rock climbing, swimming with sharks.”

She reaches out and uses her finger to snap my mouth closed. I didn’t realize it had fallen open.

“All supervised by professionals, of course,” she says. “I was risky, not crazy.”

Damn, this woman is constantly surprising me.

“All right, Daredevil.” I set my sandwich down on the bag stretch out my legs. “Maybe that will be your new name instead of Cupid—Daredevil.”

She laughs.

“What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?”

Kennedy sets down her food and curls her knees into her chest, wrapping her arms around them and thinking for a long minute. “Starting Hearts Inc.,” she decides.

“I respect that.”

And I do. Building a company is no easy task, and I had support behind me when I did it. My dad and, at the time, Samson. Kennedy had nothing. No family, no backup plan. I’m still not sure how she survived supporting herself through college, even with a scholarship.

If I could wade into the ocean that is Kennedy James and learn all there is to know, I’m not sure I’d ever make it out.

Kennedy turns to look at me, resting her temple on her knee. “What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?” she asks.

I give her a cocked grin and scan her face. “You.”

Her eyes go wide, and she smacks me lightly on my arm.

“Kidding, kidding,” I say, waving my hands up like white flags. “All right, craziest thing? That’s tough. Mark, Ryan, and I used to get into a shitload of trouble as teenagers.”

“You three? No way.” It’s dripping with sarcasm.

I nudge her knee with my leg.

“All right, I’ve got it. One Fourth of July, Ry thought it would be a good idea to set off some fireworks down at Alki Beach and have our own little celebration. He swore he knew what he was doing.”

Kennedy shakes her head. “Let me guess, trying to impress the ladies?”

“We were teenage boys, what do you expect?” I smirk. “It was fine until Mark almost blew my finger off by lighting them before I had a chance to let go. After a night in the ER, and eight stitches, I was grounded for a month.”

I hold out my hand, and she takes it, running her finger along a faded scar that runs the length of my pinkie.

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