But tonight, Kennedy was happy to oblige her father and give him the space they both needed, which was how she found herself walking into her big, empty house alone, at nine o’clock on a Friday night. Ever since Christmas, she’d spent quite a bit of time alone. Unless, of course, she was working, which she always seemed to be doing. They were still down a tech, and the receptionist she’d hired had been more trouble than she was worth, which was why Kennedy had let her go on Monday of that week, opting to battle the phones herself rather than deal with the issues the girl had presented during her short time there.
“Sheesh, you’re quite the party animal, aren’t you?” she said to the silent room, wondering when she’d become such a bore. It didn’t say much that she worked too much, or spent a significant amount of time with her father and his . . .
What was Mack to her father? His boyfriend? Were they serious enough to refer to one another that way?
Those were questions that pinged around in Kennedy’s head as she made her way to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. A hot bath sounded like heaven at that point and she was hoping both the bath and the wine would help her sleep. More accurately, she hoped it would help her sleep without dreaming. For the past month, she’d been plagued with dreams of Sawyer. Some of them still reflected back on high school, where apparently her subconscious was still trying to rewrite history, the others were about present day and the things she wished he’d do to her.
Not that she should’ve been dreaming about him at all. It seemed as though he’d finally given up his pursuit of her. Although she should’ve been happy with that knowledge, she wasn’t. In fact, she was disappointed. When Sawyer had been courting her—for lack of a better term—Kennedy at least had had something to look forward to. Now she just had . . . an empty life.
As she made her way to the bathroom, slipping off her shoes, then her clothes one piece at a time, Kennedy thought back to the conversation she’d had with her father and Mack at dinner. It had been relatively easy tonight, the two of them were obviously getting closer, despite some tension she sensed between them. As with all of the dinners she was invited to, it took both of them a few minutes to loosen up around her, but she figured that was because they were still uncomfortable with others knowing about their relationship. But once the two of them got going, they carried on as though they’d been together for a lifetime. She wondered if they would be.
“I should’ve asked,” she said aloud as she stepped into the warm water that was beginning to fill the tub. Setting her wineglass on the edge, she lowered herself in, getting situated before picking it back up.
She sipped her wine, closing her eyes, which was her first mistake. As soon as her eyes were closed, thoughts of Sawyer invaded. She popped them open, glancing around the bathroom. She settled on counting the tiles on the wall while the water continued to pour into the tub, rising higher and higher, soothing her aching muscles.
When the water was up to her chest, Kennedy twisted the knobs with her toes, effectively cutting it off. The room was then eerily silent and she’d forgotten that she had settled on counting tiles and immediately her mind drifted back to Sawyer.
God, she hadn’t seen him in a little over a month. Not one time. Even earlier in the month, when Buster was due for his shots, Sawyer had passed that task off to his mother, who had brought the little dog in. Lorrie had been overly chatty that day, talking about all the things they’d done for Christmas, spending time with her grandchildren and the dogs, but never once did she mention Sawyer’s name.
Kennedy wondered why that was. There was a rumor that Lorrie Walker enjoyed meddling in her son’s love lives, purposely interfering in order to help move things alone.
Now that Kennedy thought about it, she wondered if Lorrie was happy that Kennedy and Sawyer weren’t a thing. Maybe the other woman knew something Kennedy didn’t.
Then again, Kennedy wasn’t supposed to want to be with Sawyer, but after all the cat-and-mouse games they’d played for so long, apparently she’d gotten used to him being in her life. It kind of sucked now that he was keeping his distance.
Once again, Kennedy tried to count the tiles, wanting nothing more than to think about something else. She and Sawyer had ended before they ever began and she had to accept that. It was for the best, she knew. After all, he wasn’t much different now than he was in high school. If her father was correct, which she hadn’t determined for herself just yet, Sawyer still couldn’t be trusted.
Sighing, Kennedy started at the top of the wall. One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . .