He’d put on his boxers, jeans, and T-shirt by the time Larissa emerged from the bathroom fully dressed. Her eyes were red, and he assumed she had been crying. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
She shook her head, wayward curls moving with the motion. “That’s okay. I’m not parked that far away.”
“I’m sorry, Larissa,” Kenny apologized.
She nodded, smiling. “It’s okay, Kenny. I shouldn’t have tried pressuring you to do something you didn’t want to do. There are times when I know I’m too pushy.”
“And clingy,” he teased.
“That, too.”
“Please call me to let me know you got home safe.”
Larissa combed her fingers through her hair. “Does this mean we’re still friends?”
Kenny wanted to tell her they were never friends. That they’d gone from former classmates to lovers. “Of course.”
He waited for her to retrieve her purse, then walked her to the door. Lowering his head, he kissed her cheek. “Don’t forget to call me.”
Going on tiptoe, Larissa brushed her mouth over his. “I won’t.”
Kenny opened and closed the door behind her and exhaled an audible sigh. Now that Larissa was gone, he had to take a shower, get rid of what remained of the joint, strip his bed, and in a few days, take the bedding to a laundromat.
His phone rang forty minutes later, and when he picked up, it was Larissa telling him she’d made it home safely. “Can we get together again before I leave for Atlanta?”
Hell, no, girl, because you’re nothing but trouble with a capital T. But if I do agree to see you again, then there can’t be any weed or sex.
“Okay,” Kenny said, when the voice in his head was calling him every kind of fool imaginable, telling him that Larissa Rossi was a master manipulator. “I’m not certain when I’ll be called in to work, because the restaurant gets very busy in the summer.”
“That’s okay. I’m willing to wait until you have some free time.”
Kenny wanted to tell her that if he did have some free time, then he didn’t intend to spend it with her. There was no need to lead her on when he knew getting involved with her would be problematic. “Goodbye, Larissa.”
A beat passed. “Goodbye, Kenny.”
He hung up, knowing he’d deceived her. Kenny didn’t want to believe that he’d used her for sex, because she’d been the one to initiate it. He knew if he’d been in his right mind, he would’ve rejected her. But the pleasure he’d derived from the marijuana had clouded his judgment, and the pleasure he experienced when he’d penetrated her was too intense to disregard. He’d admitted to his mother that he wasn’t smoking cigarettes, but she hadn’t mentioned marijuana.
Kenny didn’t know what was in the joint he shared with Larissa that had triggered an instant high. Never again. He vowed it would be the last time he would ever smoke a joint.
CHAPTER25
“Are you certain you only want juice?” Justine asked Kenny when he entered the kitchen.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m meeting Ray and Frankie for breakfast.”
She gave him a warm smile. “Oh, now I’m ama’am.”
Kenny sat at the table and picked up the glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. His mother preferred making her own juice to buying those in cartons. “Mom or ma’am,” he teased, “whatever fits.”
His mother had returned from vacationing in Puerto Rico, her complexion several shades darker and with diamond studs in her ears. She said they were a gift from Frank, who claimed every woman should own a pair of diamond earrings during her lifetime. He didn’t know if Frank and his mother were sleeping together, and if they were, it didn’t bother him as long as she was happy. And Kenny hoped it was the same with Frank, because of what he’d had to go through after being diagnosed with kidney cancer. When he’d gone to see Frank after his undergoing chemo and radiation therapy, he’d begun crying and couldn’t stop. Not only had Frank lost all of his hair, but he’d appeared emaciated. That’s whenFrank made him promise not to tell Justine that he had cancer. There were so many times when he’d wanted to tell his mother, but he realized it wasn’t his secret to reveal.
The telephone rang, and Kenny met his mother’s eyes. “You answer it,” he said.
Her eyebrows lifted questioningly. “Are you sure?” she asked when it rang a second time.
“Yes, and if it’s for me, I’m not here.”
Justine picked up the wall phone. “Russell residence. I’m sorry, Larissa, but he’s not here. He has to work today. Do you want to leave a message? Okay. I’ll let him know.” She hung up the phone and glared at him.
