2. Kennedy

Shane’s momcooks us a very basic meal of roast beef, green beans, and roasted potatoes. It’s pretty standard American fare and in no way competes with my mom’s cooking skills. Another big difference between them both.

The food doesn’t sit well in my stomach, mainly because Shane seems to scrutinize every bite I take. His eyes narrow at one point during the meal, when it’s obvious he wants me to pretend that it’s the most delicious food I’ve ever eaten.

“Do you like the roast beef, hun’?” His mother asks my father. I can’t believe she’s using terms of endearment for him in front of me.

Ick.

“It’s delicious, Kate. Reminds me of my grandmother’s, and that’s a serious compliment.”

“Was she a good cook?”

“The best.”

Oh, good Lord, Daddy. Don’t bring Great-Grandma into this. She didn’t even cook roast beef.

“Yeah, Ma, it’s really good,” Shane adds, looking at me with a side-eye.

“Uh, I don’t usually eat beef,” I say, and Shane kicks me softly under the table. “But it’s tasty.”

A few more minutes of mindless pleasantries continue over the dinner table. Shane drones on about hockey, like how well the team’s doing this year, his latest NIL deal, blah, blah, blah. My father asks me about business school and if I’m ready to take over his pizzeria empire.

And then the bomb drops.

“Baby girl, I have some great news,” my father says, dropping his fork down with a clank.

“What is it?”

“I’m not going to beat around the bush. I’m sure you both know it’s been coming. I’ve asked Kate to marry me, and she said yes!”

Kate stands out of her seat and offers me a smile of self-restraint, her engagement ring sparkling under the white lights of the chandelier as she extends it forward. I didn’t notice it earlier because I don’t make it a habit of inspecting what Kate is wearing, but now it shines in my eyes like a beacon of futile hope.

“We wanted to wait until you got home to tell you.”

I feel my stomach stop, drop, and roll, just like Fireman Hannigan taught us to do in Kindergarten.

“You’re marrying her?” I turn my head to glare at Shane. “Did you know about this?”

Shane’s head is down, but he lifts it slowly and enunciates, “I had some idea.”

“Kee-Kee,” my father interrupts as Shane’s mother sits back down.

“Do you even know what this means?” I say to my dad.

My dad’s smile falters. “Kennedy, I thought you’d be happy for us.”

“And why would you think that?” I ask in disbelief, standing for dramatic effect.

“Maybe because I thought my happiness mattered to you.”

“How can I be happy? You just met her, and now she’s in my mother’s house, cooking in my mother’s kitchen, and her son is the most arrogant person at my school, making my life a living hell.”

“Excuse you,” Shane interrupts with laughter in his voice. “Me, arrogant?”

I slam my hand on the table, glaring at him, my fists clenched.

“Don’t you dare make a joke out of this! You’ve made my life miserable at school, and now I have to deal with you at home, too?”

“Does Shane bother you at school?” his mother asks in confusion, looking between us. “I thought you two were friends all this time.”

Shane raises an eyebrow. “We seem to only be friends when she comes to my games or my parties or… my house. You know, when it’s convenient for her.”

“What does that mean?” I snap, knowing exactly what he’s insinuating. “There’s always some sarcastic undercurrent to everything you say. I go to the VCU Sun’s hockey games, not just yours.”

“And the parties?”

“You make me go!”

“You forced her to go to a party, Shane?” His mother asks in disbelief.

“I can’t imagine that I could force Kennedy to do anything she didn’t want to do,” he responds. “The two of us like to make bets sometimes, and she lost the last one. That’s why she came to the most recent party. You’d have to ask her why she came to all the others.”

He makes sure to enunciate the word came.

Asshole.

I despise him.

“That’s only half the story!” I protest. “The truth is that we are not friends, and we never will be. You’re like a pesky tick that is leeching onto me and invading my family, sucking the blood out of us!”

“Kennedy!” my father protests.

“You should definitely be in the theater department, not the business school.” Shane crosses his arms, a hint of annoyance flickering in his eyes. “I’m not invading anything, and by the way, our parents didn’t just meet. They’ve been dating for years, and now they’re getting married. So what? Get over it. What’s it going to change?” he challenges, and I know exactly what he’s alluding to.

I just pretend that I don’t.

I’m good at that.

“Shane Sullivan, watch your tone. And I told you to look out for Kennedy and get to know her, not harass her.”

“Look out for me?” I scoff. “Do you really think I want to go on campus every day and chat it up with the one person who is a constant reminder of the bullshit going on in here?”

“Sit down, Kennedy Bing,” my father orders in a voice I haven’t heard him use with me since I was nine years old, so I take my seat. “What’s going on here is that two people have made an adult decision to share their lives together,” he continues. “I understand you don’t care much for change, and I knew this would be difficult for you to hear, but I never imagined you’d be this emotional about it.”

“Dad–”

He raises a hand to quiet me.

“It’s Christmas. Kate is a guest in this house, and she and Shane will soon be members of this family. Our family. So I warn you, please don’t say anything else you’ll regret tonight because I promise it won’t play out the way you expect.”

Wow.

My father’s harsh words slice at my heart like shards of glass. He just made it clear, in front of everyone (Shane), that if he had to make a choice, it would be Shane’s mother.

It has never been me.

It never is.

If I sit at this table any longer, I’m afraid that I will cry and embarrass myself more than I already have, but if I leave, I may enrage my father even more than he already is. Thankfully, I get a pardon.

“You may be excused,” he tells me. “I think you need some time to reflect on your attitude.”

There are tears in Shane’s mother’s eyes, practically mirroring what my own must look like, and the weight of how I’ve reacted tonight is becoming much clearer. Maybe I’m not as mature as I like to think I am but dammit, this all really hurts. More than I could ever explain to my dad.

I’ve done filthy things with the boy who will become my stepbrother when he marries Kate.

Delicious, unforgettable, filthy fucking things.

I close the door to my room and think about calling my mom because she’s the only voice I want to hear, but that would be selfish. Why should I ruin her holiday by telling her about this? And if I’m honest with myself, I’m pretty sure she’s sick of talking about it with me and just wants to move on.

Suddenly, there’s a heavy knock at my door, and my neck muscles contract. I’d know the sound of those Fred-Flinstone-sized knuckles anywhere.

“What, Shane?” I say through the door.

“Open up.”

“I don’t want to talk right now.”

Of course, he opens the door anyway, and once he sees my tear-stained face, his expression softens slightly. “Look, Kennedy, I get it. We haven’t exactly been best friends lately, but maybe, for our parents’ sake, can we at least try to make this work? You tried your best to wait them out, hoping they’d break up, but I guess love wins.”

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside me. This whole situation feels like a nightmare. Like somebody else’s life. Yet the realization that I have zero control over the choices of my father has been made abundantly clear to me tonight.

Shane’s right.

I have to make some sort of peace with it, even if that means that he’s now a permanent fixture in my life.

My stepbrother.

Ewww.

Shane waits for my response, his usual arrogance replaced by something resembling genuine concern.

Reluctantly, I nod. “Fine. For our parents.”

My shoulders relax slightly, but the tension between us remains as he advances towards me carefully, like he’s walking on eggshells. The closer he gets, the more I have to tilt my head to watch his approach.

Shane is tall.

Ridiculously tall.

He stands between my legs as I sit on the edge of my bed and uses his thumb and pointer finger to tilt my chin up higher so that I can face him.

The unexplainable part is after everything I let him.

I always let him.

He bends down slowly, probably anticipating that I’ll stop him at any moment, but I don’t. I know what he’s about to do. I’m almost daring him to do it. To get it over with. It wouldn’t be the first time. This combustible energy between us has been building since we met freshman year. We both know it, and we’ve both been fighting it.

It’s not the brutal clash of lips and teeth that I expected between us. Actually, it’s a soft, tentative, careful kiss that feels as if it comes from an affectionate place and not an indecent one. I open my mouth wider, welcoming him inside. His tongue slips past the barrier, engaging mine in a dance that is both sensuous and unhurried. The taste of him, a blend of mint and decadence, intoxicates me. My hands curl into the soft waves of his hair, tugging softly as my mind plays out a storm of explicit fantasies.

His hands start to wander before one settles at the back of my neck. His grip is firm but gentle, anchoring me to him yet not confining me. The way he”s holding me leaves no room for doubt about what he desires.

His voice is husky as he pulls back, “I’m glad that’s settled,” he says with a smile I’ve grown to ignore because it can’t be trusted.

What in the actual fuck am I doing?

Remember who he is, Kennedy.

Remember who he’s about to be.

“Get out,” I tell him, my voice cracking.

“I’m going. I’m sure you have a lot to process. You just kissed the fuck out of your stepbrother with our parents downstairs. That’s got to be a Christmas mind fuck for your ass.”

“I hate you!”

“Your brain might hate me, but your pussy definitely doesn’t. I can smell how much she likes me from here.”

“Get! Out! Shane!”

“See you at the next game,” he laughs as he closes the door behind him.

I fall back on my bed, turn over, and scream into the pillow. There’s got to be a way I can still reverse Parent Trap, this smug fucker and his mother out of my life.

I just have to figure it out.