I laugh. “Newsflash, women don’t like dick pics. We like come-shot videos with the sound turned on.” I shiver at the thought. “Getting one of those from you would be a huge turn-on.”
He raises an eyebrow. “That can be arranged. How about a new bet?”
“I’m listening,” I respond.
“The going home from the hospital outfit for our baby. If it’s a girl, I choose. If it’s a boy, you choose. Either way, I’ll send you that video.”
I’m not confident I’m winning this one, but I’ll take the video. And I’ve come to love his playful demeanor. He’s so fun.
Holding out my hand, I offer, “Deal.”
He happily shakes my hand in return. “Deal.”
I can’t help my smile. “If it’s a boy, will we name him Richard Dickgrabber? We can call him little Dickie.”
His head snaps to me. “You remember that?”
I nod and sigh. “I suppose I remember a lot of what you’vesaid since I met you. Like when you told me I was the kind of person who didn’t have real friends.” I didn’t mean for it to come off with as much edge as it did.
His face falls, and he reaches for my hand. “I’m sorry about that. It was a cruel thing to say.”
I shrug. “It’s okay. It made me think. At the time, you weren’t wrong, but I don’t think that’s the case anymore.”
“It’s not,” he immediately offers. “You’re beloved by everyone close to you.”
He stares at me for an extra beat. I think he’s trying to tell me he loves me but isn’t saying the words out loud. I’m glad he doesn’t. I’m not sure I’m ready to hear them.
I squeeze his hand in silent acknowledgment. “I like that you call me out on my shit. Truthbombs are good for me. I need that in my life.” I barely whisper, “I’ve never had anyone care enough to do so.”
A small smile finds his lips. “Well, okay then. How about a few more? Your personality falls somewhere between Mother Theresa and Mother Fucker.”
I spit in laughter, appreciating both the joke and him lightening the conversation. This man somehow makes me laugh and fills my soul at the same time.
Twenty-five minutes later, we’re walking into Pierce’s dorm building and up to his room. I knock on his door, and he opens it with his head down and a solemn face. “What’s wrong?” I ask with concern.
He looks behind him and then at the floor in front of me, like he’s unable to make eye contact. “I’m so sorry. Don’t be mad at me. She made me do it.”
He opens the door further, and I see my mother sitting there. Her collagen-injected lips tighten as much as they can for someone who probably has no feeling in them. “Time for us to talk, daughter. Pierce, wait outside,” she demands like he’s a child.
I wordlessly cross my arms in the doorway while Pierce hangs his head further and walks out.
“Come inside, Kennedy,” she commands.
I suppose this was inevitable. I’ve been back in Philly for over a year and have successfully avoided a real conversation with her.
Daylen, who she likely couldn’t see behind me in the hallway, walks in with me. Her facelifted face attempts to show surprise, but it doesn’t move much. “Daylen? What are you doing here?”
He scowls at her. “I was giving Kennedy a ride home when Pierce texted.”
She nods in understanding. “Honey, can you give Kennedy and me a few minutes alone? We need to talk about family business.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll leave if Kennedy wants me to.”
“I don’t,” I immediately respond. “Please stay.” I look at her. “He knows everything.”
She looks uncomfortable, but I don’t give a shit. It’s not my job to appease her in any way, shape, or form. “Say what you have to say, Ginny. I have plans. I only came here because of Pierce. How dare you use him to get to me. Don’t put him in the middle. It’s not fair to him.”
She throws her hands in the air in obvious frustration. “You left me no choice. I’ve been patient, but you won’t return my calls or texts. And now I can’t even get through. My texts bounce back. What else was I supposed to do?”
