Kennedy’s face grew blank while her heart palpitated because her scheme had worked too well. Sonny had done what she recalled him best for—stirring up fucking mess. She’d expected Ezekiel to hear of her being home within a couple of days at the earliest. Two hours made her want to pat herself on the back.
“Maybe we can sneak out before he notices where we are,” Sonny suggested.
Kennedy let out a low chuckle while zeroing in on a suit-clad figure that stuck out like a sore thumb, breezing toward their section.
“Too late. I guess, it’s time for me to face the music.”
Her drink lost its powerful kick, and she sipped it like she was unaffected by the liquor as her first love closed in on her. The closer Zeke neared, she could make out those bedroom eyes that used to make her pussy wet well before he’d touched it. His suit clung to his toned frame, and she appreciated the hints of gray in his close shaven beard and clean fade. Age had done him as well as she’d imagined it would.
“Hey, brother!” Sonny sang once Ezekiel meandered onto the raised floor, entering their section.
Ezekiel shot him a fleeting smile, but his gaze veered straight to the young girl who’d robbed him of his heart at one point in time. He was caught off guard by the grown woman who stood in her place.
His eyes locked on Kennedy, transfixed—raking from her flawlessly beat face to her cropped leather jacket and a clingyblack halter dress that stopped below a pussy he’d taught everything it knew. A smug grin etched on his face as he walked further, sealing the gap between them while she stared with slow blinks as if she were processing him being real. He gripped her chin to tip her head upward as her lids fluttered.
The silence was palpable, and Kennedy tensed at the jolt in her belly that almost convinced her to run off before diving into yet another predicament that she couldn’t pull herself out of. As if Ezekiel sensed her hesitations, his rich baritone finally stroked her ears and sent tingles down her spine.
“My tough girl.”
Her throat dried at the stolen epithet from Butch that Ezekiel had dirtied long ago, turning it into anything but an innocent term of endearment. He’d used it most when she did a stellar job at taking his dick.
“Hey, Zeke,” she replied, cringing from her voice that came out hoarser than it’d been all day. He hiked a brow, but didn’t point it out.
“What a sight for sore eyes. Sonny, do you think I can steal Kennedy for a minute without you causing chaos in my establishment?”
“Zeke, go to hell. This lounge ain’t even all that to act like I’m gon’ destroy it, but I haven’t stolen a hoe’s man in months, so no beefs over here. I’ll be good.”
“Some things really don’t change,” Kennedy bantered with Sonny, and Ezekiel hummed before taking her cup to set on the table.
“And some things change so damn much, it’s hard to recognize them anymore. Let’s talk in my office where it’s quieter.”
Kennedy didn’t have time to register whether Ezekiel made the statement in hindsight or as a jab before he took her hand and began guiding her through the lounge. She scurried to keepup with his stride and concentrated not to stumble over her own feet in her heels.
As hard as she tried to ignore it, her tipsy state didn’t let her overlook Ezekiel’s tight grip on her hand. Firm and assured as if she still belonged to him. It shined a spotlight on the character difference between him and Relic because Ezekiel hadn’t once struggled to show his love or affection toward her. If anything, she had to remind him to keep it light in public.
None of his efforts mattered since, when the time had come to let Koda know; Ezekiel had fumbled and broken her heart to pieces in the process.
“So, you and Sarge own this spot?” Kennedy made an attempt at small talk as he led her around the bar area and down a small hall for employees only.
He nodded while releasing her hand before fishing a set of keys from his slacks pocket. His lack of conversation made her antsy, and she tugged at the hem of her dress as she waited for him to unlock the door and open it to usher her inside. Kennedy emitted a squeal when Ezekiel shut it by slamming her back against it before his hands clamped onto her waist. His tongue dove between her gaped lips to invade her mouth without permission.
“What the fuck, Ezekiel?! Wait... stop!” She screamed and turned her head before giving his chest a hard shove.
He released her like she was contagious and stumbled backward, shaking his head like it’d help him come to his senses. Ezekiel scrubbed a hand down his mouth with his gaze lingering on her pert breasts that heaved as she tried catching her breath that he’d stolen in his altered state.
“I didn’t mean to kiss you. I just... fuck! Why did you have to bring your ass back after all this time, Kennedy?” he belabored.
Her eyes bucked at him shifting the blame like it was her fault he was the same old Ezekiel who couldn’t control his urges or his dick.
“You act like my parents don’t live here, Zeke. Like I didn’t have a life here at one point.”
“You acted like that!” he bellowed, jutting a finger at her, and she kept quiet since he was right.
Kennedy could see his frustration radiating off him as he stormed to his desk, yanking his tie loose and undoing his top few buttons before he plopped into his chair while reaching for a bottle of whiskey. Her lips remained glued as she observed him pouring a glass with his eyes trained on a picture frame she couldn’t see since it faced him.
“Is that them?” she asked, strutting over to pick it up before he could stop her.
A fair skinned face she couldn’t forget stared back at her, while a little girl in a matching outfit with loose curls clung to her leg. Kennedy couldn’t help but wonder what her ovaries would’ve produced if he’d given her the same opportunity he chose to bestow on his wife.
