Loving Kinnick (Rewritten 2023)

Chapter Thirteen

 The streetlights reflected off his tanned skin, illuminating every inch uncovered by clothing. My eyes studied the tattoos on his hand. Something made me wonder what his interest in snakes was. From the serpent slithering down his middle finger to the one peeking from the t-shirt around his neck, I already deemed them as my favorite. Now I am left to question if he had more.

 Only books talked about the men covered in ink. They described a man worth losing sleep over. A man in which women around the world would beg to see in their dreams, but my whole life, I assumed they were fake. How dare the world make such a beautiful man real? Now I am staring at the one who convinced me to get in his truck, thinking how did I find a person who was only supposed to exist in novels?

 When his truck came to a rolling halt in front of my house, I let out a deep sigh. Even the best days only had twenty-four hours, and now I am begging the universe for more. I turned to the blue-eyed boxer to realize he was slipping from the driver's seat.

 As he pulled open my passenger door, I unhooked the seatbelt. "Are you walking me to my door?"

 "How could I sleep at night if I didn't?"

 My lips spread into a smile. "I am sure the same as every other night."

 "You are ridiculous to think that," he lent out his hand. "What kind of friend would I be if I didn't walk you to your door?"

 "None of my other friends do it."

 "They are shitty friends."

 I cocked my head to the side. "I thought we were best friends, by the way."

 "Best friends? I thought we were the bestest of friends."

 My hip bumped his. "I was hoping you'd say that."

 "Thank you for trusting me." He gripped my wrist to turn me toward him. "I know riding with me must have been difficult."

 "No, it is me who is thankful." I tilted my head to view his face. "You gave me the option to say no."

 "You'll always feel that way with me, Bo," his words held promise as he looked me in the eye. "I will never pressure you."

 Without hesitation, my arms wrapped around his waist. I felt him tense up before his arms circled my body and closed the gap between us. A sigh left my lips as my cheek pressed deeper into the warmth of his chest. When I pulled away, the loneliness crept back upon me. I wanted to rush back into another hug, but I simply thanked him for the night as he made me promise to lock the door behind me.

 He disappeared behind the front door as I slowly shut it. Deep breaths fell from my lips as I pressed my head against the wood. I wanted to stay there and memorize every inch of his face before I forgot, but the sound of dishes clinking in the kitchen stole my attention. My feet skid across the floor as I saw the beam of light coming from the kitchen.

 I couldn't stop my body and my feet weren't fast enough to get me where I needed to be. My feet screeched against the wooden floor at the sight of my dad tossing dishes into the sink. How dare I believe it could have been my mom? It isn't like me to dream of silly things at my age. My mom died, and it was all my fault.

 "Where have you been?" He looked up from his cup of coffee. "Chrissy said you didn't go to her place, and John told me you weren't at the gym."

 "I grabbed dinner with a friend."

 "I don't ask for much from you, Bo," he straightened out his back to size me up. "But being out all night without so much as a text makes me believe we are falling back into our unhealthy patterns again."

 "What? I – "

 "And you left the kitchen a mess. I cannot come home from working all night to clean up after you. There was flour and sugar everywhere." I watched as he tossed my mom's yellow apron onto the counter. "What is this?"

 "I used it to bake."

 "Don't," he snapped. "You aren't her, so stop trying to be."

 His last few words caught me off guard. It stole the breath from my lungs. My shoulders could only sink in defeat as I stared at the man who viewed me with hatred. All I could do was stand before him and nod.

 "I'm pulling a double." He tossed his empty coffee mug into the sink. "I want that apron gone before I come back tomorrow. We already agreed to move on. We need to stop holding onto the past."

 He didn't say another word before leaving out the backdoor. The tears falling from my face hit the wood below me. I knew I wasn't my mom. She wore a pair of shoes that anyone else could never fill. I questioned if my dad loved me. I knew the ways he used to beg for me to have died instead of her. He didn't. Little did he know, I lay my head down at night, wishing the same thing.

 Before I could turn toward the stairs, a knock from the front door sounded through the empty house. I figured my dad forgot something and instead of using his keys; he wanted me to let him inside. But when I pulled the door open, I saw the blue-eyed boxer. The creases in his face deepened the longer he stared at me.

 "What are you doing here?" I wiped my face with the sleeve of my jacket.

 He held up my phone. "This must have slipped out during the ride."

 "Thank you," I grabbed it from his hand. "Have a good night – "

 "Have a good night? So, I'm supposed to ignore how you're crying?"

 "That can be a story for a different day."

 "I can't let you go to bed hurting."

 "I won't bore you with my family issues."

 "Actually, I want to hear everything going on inside that pretty little head of yours."

 "Kinnick – "

 Without warning, he closed the gap between us and pulled me into his chest. A rumble of laughter washed over me as he tapped my back. The boy resting his chin on my head only muttered for me to stop making fun of him.

 "You don't hug people very often, do you?"

 "I have hugged you more today than I have anyone in my whole life."

 "Well, you are doing great, sweetie."

 He shoved at my shoulder. "You're an asshole."

 "While you are training me in the ring, I'll train you how to hug."

 "We should start now, then."

 "Oh, really?"

 He hummed before gripping my wrist. "Like right now."

 "This is a horrible hug."

 His arms tightened around my waist. "How about now?"

 "You're improving."

 When his palm flattened against my back to pull me closer, a breath of air exited my lips. "I guess we will keep trying until I get it right, Boston Bennett."

 "You were doing great earlier."

 "Are you coming to my fight tomorrow?"

 "Why would I want to see you lose?" I pulled away. "I would have to record it, spread it on the internet, and be one of those famous content creators."

 "Oh, yeah?"

 I hummed in confirmation. "Which sucks because you are pretty cute, and how horrible would it be for that to happen?"

 "Cute, huh?"

 "Why do you want me at this fight so badly?"

 The corner of his lips tugged upward as he caressed my wrist. "Because ever since I met you, I've been waiting to hear you scream my name."