He never thought he'd get this interested in a girl who just moved into his house.
Kennedy Kinsey, a bubbly and talkative girl, moves to New York to live with her dad's best friend after her parent's death.
She never thought she would be this attrac...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
♥Chapter 49: ᴡʜᴇʀᴇʜᴇᴡᴀɴᴛꜱᴛʜᴇʀᴀᴘʏ♥
❆Jake❆
My eyes meet Kennedy's, and she puts on a smile.
"Are you really okay?" I ask.
Her smile drops a little, but she smiles more reassuringly, "I'm okay."
"You don't have to lie to me." I rub the pad of my thumb on the skin of her hand. "You don't need to fake being okay. Tell me whatever's bothering you, please."
"Jake." She says, "I'm fine. A little shaken up and shocked but yeah." She shrugs, "I'm fine." She glances at the IV tubes on her arms, "In some way at least."
"You're not scared?" I ask. "Of you know? Death?"
She shrugs, "Seems like my expiration date just came near."
I shoot her a look and she breaks into another small smile.
She stares at me then finally lets out a sigh.
"Before." She gazes at my fingers as she toys with them, "It would have scared me; dying alone, without my parents, without anyone. I would have probably been so scared that I'd sob myself to death."
She looks up at me, a sheen of water covering her eyes, "But now I have you and Corey and Toothy and Alex and Gabriel flew from California to see me." Her voice gets wobbly with emotions, and I rise from my chair, moving to sit on Ken's bed to be nearer to her.
"You're not alone." I run my fingers through her hair.
"I know." She smiles at me, bringing my fingers up to the side of her face. "Knowing that doesn't scare me as much as it would have."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
"Please don't hide anything from me." I'm not sure if my voice cracked or not.
"Too late."
I blink, "What?"
She lets out a dramatic sigh, "God how long did I keep this secret from you?"
I still give her my confused look.
What the fuck she's talking about?
She leans in towards me, my nose catching the whiff of medicines on her, "There's been a dead body under your bed for two weeks." She whispers.
The seriousness drops and I give her a flat look, "Yeah?"
She nods.
"Who's it this time?"
"Bob."
"And what'd he do?"
"Built."
"You murdered Bob the builder?" I raise an eyebrow.
