Chapter 27

Mason

Kenna's presence seemed to have a magnetic effect.

No, really.

Every guy at the party flocked to her like bees to honey.

It was maddeningly frustrating, but I felt a sense of pride each time her eyes instinctively searched for mine whenever another dared to approach her. She would silently beg me to swoop in and save her. It was a subtle yet solid reminder of our unspoken connection.

Truth be told, I was enjoying being her knight in shining armor.

After guy number seven, she stood on her tiptoes and whispered in my ear, "It seems more annoying to have me here than fun."

"No way," I told her.

"You're just saying that!" Kenna laughed.

She flashed a sweet smile, and I felt a pull I couldn't resist.

"Let's get out of here," I told her.

"Aren't we supposed to be celebrating your big win?" she asked.

I shrugged, "These guys celebrate every night."

"I believe that," she giggled. "Not a big party guy?"

"I'd rather hang out with just you," I admitted.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I don't mind staying if you want to!"

Without saying another word, I took Kenna's hand and led her out of the party.

I knew Vance wouldn't take my absence personally.

∞∞∞

Kenna sat in the same spot, her body draped with the same blanket as the last time she was over. She looked so perfectly content being curled up on my couch.

"You're nothing like I thought you would be," I told her.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

Her eyes were so squinty, I could barely make out her beautiful green irises.

"I don't know," I said. "The day I met you, I could never have imagined you sitting on my couch, smoking a joint."

"Fair enough," she giggled. "This wasn't on my bingo card for the year."

"Same," I laughed.

"I'm still figuring out who exactly I am," she said. "So, honestly, I'm nothing like I thought I would be either. The more I am at peace, the more my authentic self emerges. I treasure peace."

"I do as well," I said with a smile.

"You know, sometimes, the most precious and unexpected bonds can come from chance encounters," she said.

She draped her legs over mine, scooting further down on the couch cushion.

"Comfortable?" I asked.

"Very," she smiled at me, and it took everything in me not to take her face in my hands and put my mouth on hers.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

Kissing your lips until they're swollen.

"Nothing really," I said.

"I don't believe you!" Kenna laughed. Her entire body shook with joy. The sound was like a symphony, each note in tune with the next.

I could have listened to her laugh forever.

"Can we watch more of The Files?" Kenna asked.

"The X-Files?" I clarified.

She nodded, her lips stretching into a smile. "I love Scully."

"I knew you would," I said.

"She's a total badass who isn't afraid to voice her opinion or question a man's," Kenna continued. "She's a role model for girls. The X-Files should be a requirement to watch in school."

"Is she the role model you needed when you were younger?" I asked.

"Yes," she whispered, "without a doubt."

"That's one of the things I love about skateboarding," I told her. "There are so many good guys involved—genuinely good dudes."

"Like Rodney Mullen?" she asked.

I was surprised she remembered his name.

"Yeah, sure, like Rodney," I laughed. "I think Tony Hawk is probably best suited for the role model position."

"Oh, I know who Tony is!" The pride Kenna wore on her face was too endearing.

"Tony's a good dude," I said.

Her head tilted slightly, a smile tugging on her lips, "You know, you're nothing like I thought you'd be either," she said.

"Oh yeah?" I asked.

"Skateboarders kind of have a bad reputation," she explained. "But you have been nicer and more respectful to me than most men I've encountered."

"We do have a bad reputation," I laughed.

"An undeserved bad reputation," she clarified.

Her words meant more to me than she could understand. We did carry the burden of a bad reputation as skateboarders.

"Thank you for saying that," I told her, "I mean it."

She scooted a little closer and barely rested her head on my shoulder, her eyelids heavy.

"Time for The X-Files?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, "but I'm apologizing in advance if I doze off. I have an alarm set a little before midnight. I have to get home tonight, okay?"

"Okay," I laughed. "What's the urgency?"

"Oh," she blushed, "I just have a meeting first thing in the morning."

There was a hint of something left unsaid, but I didn't push for more. I hit play on The X-Files, and the eerie theme song filled the room.

"I'll make sure you're home by midnight, Cinderella," I whispered into her hair.

I was pretty sure she had already dozed off. Otherwise, I have no doubt she would have giggled at my Cinderella comment.