Risking It All (7 page)

“Fine, thank you, Mrs. Monroe.”

“Where’s that boyfriend of yours, Kennedy?” David asked, eyeing Memphis warily. “The doctor.”

“Oh, he’s . . .” Kennedy felt Memphis’s hand on her back in reassurance. “He’s supposed to be here.”

Hope raised an eyebrow and looked from Kennedy to Memphis.

“
Supposed
to be here?”

“The man is busy, Hope,” her father said gruffly. “I’m sure he had something more important to take care of.”

Kennedy flinched.

“Something more important to take care of?” Memphis questioned before Kennedy could. “So, you’re saying Kennedy’s show isn’t important?”

“Memphis, forget it,” Kennedy whispered.

“No, I won’t forget it, Kennedy,” he said, pulling his arm out of her grasp when she tried to pull him away from her parents. He stared down at the man in front of him. “I don’t think your father realizes just how hard you work, how much time and effort goes into what you do. This
is
important, Mr. Monroe.”

“As important as saving lives?” David snorted. “I think not.”

“David,” Hope hissed, glaring at her husband. “You promised you’d be supportive.”

Her father turned without another word and left them in favor of the bar that had been set up.

“I’m sorry,” her mother apologized. “You know how he is.”

“That’s no excuse,” Memphis said.

“Memphis, please.” Kennedy tried to calm him down.

He looked at her and shook his head, his eyes following her father.

“I think I’ll get a drink,” he said. “Do you want anything?”

“Wine. Red, please,” Kennedy answered.

She watched him walk over to bar and stand next to her father. Kennedy cursed under her breath when she saw David’s shoulders tense. She didn’t have to hear the conversation to know what Memphis was about to say to him—his two cents, most likely.

“He’s quite protective of you, isn’t he?” Her mother’s serene voice calmed her some.

Kennedy glanced at her.

“We’ve been friends a long time.”

Hope looked at her daughter and gave her a knowing smile.

“Yes, you have. But to people who don’t know, it would seem as if there’s something more than just friendship.”

“That’s absurd,” Kennedy muttered.

“Really?” Hope’s smile turned to one of amusement. “He’s been by your side the entire night, holding you hand, offering you encouragement, getting you drinks. He’s very attentive. And right now . . .” Hope looked back at the two men. “. . . he’s telling your father off.”

“He’s—”

“I’m not judging you, Kennedy, or him,” Hope assured her. “In fact I’m glad that you have a man in your life like Memphis.”

“He’s just my friend, Mom.”

“Then where’s your boyfriend?”

Kennedy stared at her mother, unable to answer the question. Hope patted her arm and said, “I know,” before heading to the bar to rescue her husband.

Memphis returned with her drink shortly after that, and she downed it in three swallows, handing the empty glass back to him.

“Wow. I don’t think I’ve seen you slam back a drink that fast since your graduation party,” he said, clearly amused. “Would you like another?”

“Yes.”

Memphis fetched another glass, and this time she took her time sipping the tangy wine as they walked around the room.

Kennedy broke the silence. “What did you say to my father?”

“Do you really want to know?”

She looked up at him and saw his jaw clench.

“Yes.”

“More or less I told him he was an asshole for treating you like shit,” Memphis answered with a shrug.

“More or less?”

“There may have been more, definitely not less.” He flashed a smile, but she didn’t have the heart to return it. “Are you mad at me?”

“No,” she replied truthfully. “I just wish I had the balls to say all the things to him that you just did.”

Memphis wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to his side as they walked. For the rest of the evening Kennedy kept one eye on her parents—to avoid her father—and the other eye on the door for any sign of Brooks. Memphis made sure to keep her glass full, and it was only after she started feeling tipsy that he suggested she switch to water.

“I’m not sure how it would look for the artist to get smashed at her own show,” he teased.

Kennedy giggled; the wine played with her head and made her thoughts fuzzy.

“I think I should take you home,” Memphis said.

“I think you should, too.” Kennedy looked up at him from beneath her lashes.

Memphis’s eyes darkened at the look she gave him. Kennedy licked her lips, and his eyes dropped to her mouth, watching her tongue trail along the plump flesh. He swallowed hard, shifting his eyes back up to hers.

“I mean to your place. I should drive you home,” he finally replied.

“If you’re sure that’s what you want,” she whispered.

“Kennedy, are you . . .” Memphis narrowed his eyes at her, and she suddenly felt very foolish for playing whatever game her alcohol-soaked brain was trying to play.

Kennedy closed her eyes and tried to get her thoughts straight. It was the wine talking. Only the wine.

She finally nodded and opened her eyes.

“I think you’re right. I need to go home.”

Memphis took the empty glass from her hand and placed it on a nearby table.

“I need to say good-bye to Ryder,” she muttered as Memphis took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

After promises to call Ryder in the morning, Memphis led her out to her vehicle and carefully got her into the front seat.

“Good thing we didn’t take your bike tonight. You would have had to strap me down to keep me from falling off,” she joked.

Memphis laughed as he started the engine.

“Tied to my bike. Now that’s a sight I wouldn’t mind seeing.”

Kennedy tried to ignore the way her heart leapt at his words, how the image of being tied up by Memphis turned her on. She swallowed, trying to coat her dry throat, and looked out the window, needing to keep her eyes off the man beside her.

She stared at her faint reflection in the window and thought of Brooks. He promised to be there for her tonight, and she actually believed he would show. He sounded so sincere, so sorry that night that she believed he would put her first for once. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he was a no-show tonight; deep down Kennedy knew it would happen. But it still hurt like hell.

Memphis pulled into her building’s parking lot and eased her car into her space. He helped her out and into the building, making sure she got into her apartment without tripping over her heels and breaking her neck in her inebriated state.

“Home, sweet, home,” he declared as he unlocked her door and pushed it open.

Kennedy immediately kicked off her shoes and headed for the couch, dropping down on it in a thud.

Memphis went into her kitchen and came out with a glass of water and two Tylenol.

“Take these. Non-doctor’s orders.”

Kennedy looked at his outstretched hand and suddenly burst into tears.

“Hey.” He quickly set the water and pills down and sat beside her, pulling her into his arms. “What’s wrong, beautiful?”

“He didn’t come,” Kennedy cried, resting her head on his chest. “He promised he’d be there and he didn’t come.”

“I know,” Memphis said, stroking her hair.

“And the sculpture was there. He was supposed to be there to see it,” she rambled on. “I wanted him there to see it, so maybe he’d finally acknowledge what we lost wasn’t just a fetus, but a baby.”

“It’s okay.” Memphis soothed her by rubbing her back.

“No, it’s not okay,” she cried into his chest, unexpectedly angry. “I know it’s been a year and a half since I miscarried, and I’ve accepted it, but Brooks has never even wanted to talk about it. I get that it happened early on in our relationship and that it wasn’t planned, and to him it was just a
fetus,
but to me it was a baby. My baby. We lost a child, our child, and he didn’t even blink an eye! You were there for me more than the father of my child was. If it wasn’t for you . . . I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Kennedy—”

“I just wanted him to see the sculpture,” she whispered, wiping her eyes. “I just wanted him to see the pain I went through and the thoughts I had, even if he felt none of it.”

Memphis held her as she cried, soaking the front of his expensive shirt with her tears. He didn’t say a word, but to Kennedy his silence spoke volumes. She knew his heart was breaking because hers was, she knew he was sorry for her loss and that he would never be able to express it properly because he didn’t know how. And she knew, more than ever, in that moment he hated Brooks.

Finally the tears stopped, and she pulled away from his wet shirt.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice hoarse. Her throat felt raw and it hurt to swallow.

“Kennedy, there’s nothing I can say to make this right for you.” Memphis brushed the hair from her face and cupped her cheek. “I wish there was, but there isn’t.”

“It’s not up to you to try and make it right anyway, Memphis. That should be on Brooks.”

“I hate that he treats you like this,” Memphis spat. “He’s no better than your father.”

“At least my father showed,” she added bitterly. “That’s more than I can say for Brooks.” She smiled at him. “No matter what, I’ll always have you, right?”

“Always,” Memphis promised, stroking her cheek.

“You know how simple this would all be if you were my boyfriend?” She laughed and shook her head. “You practically are in every way, anyway. You’re always there for me, always putting me first and making sure I’m okay. You love me more, and probably better, than any guy I’ve ever been with, including Brooks. My life doesn’t work without you because you’re my other half.”

Memphis stopped rubbing his thumb back and forth on her face and she slowly looked up to meet his eyes. He was watching her closely, his eyes locked with hers as he stared at her. Neither of them made a sound nor moved an inch. She swore the pounding of her heart filled the silent room as she stared back at her best friend.

Her mouth went dry, the words slipping from between her lips before she could stop them. “Why couldn’t it be you?”

Memphis opened his mouth to answer but then shut it again. Her eyes dropped to his lips, much like his had done at the gallery, and she stared at his mouth, wanting something that she had craved for years but never had the guts to take.

She was grateful he didn’t say anything, didn’t ask a question she didn’t have the answer to. She wasn’t even sure herself what she meant by the question. The baby, her boyfriend, her life . . . did it all come down to one thing? To one person?

“Kiss me,” she whispered, barely hearing the words herself.

Memphis’s breath hitched.

“Kennedy . . .” He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, pressing his lips together as he exhaled. “You’re hurt and angry at Brooks—”

“Yes. But that’s not why I want you,” she told him. She waited until he opened his eyes. “Kiss me, Memphis.”

He hesitated for only a second before cupping the back of her neck and pulling her forward so her lips met his.

The second their lips touched, Kennedy felt it. The connection she had been missing with everyone else. The spark that had never been lit was suddenly ignited and blazing when their kiss deepened. With every brush of his tongue along hers, with every gentle nip of her lips his teeth took, the reality of her feelings for him became crystal clear.

It was so intense it scared her, and she pulled away, eyes wide as she stared at the man who had always been nothing more to her than a friend.

“You need to go,” she said.

Memphis huffed in frustration, swearing under his breath and running his hands through his hair.

“I’m sorry, Kennedy. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I asked you to, it’s not your fault. But I need you to go.”

He watched her for a few more seconds before finally nodding, and stood. She watched him grab his jacket off the dining room chair where she’d dropped it when they came in, and throw it over his arm. He glanced at her once more from the door, and then was gone.

Kennedy brought her fingers to her mouth and touched her well-kissed lips. She was a fool to think she could ask him to kiss her and not have it change anything. It changed everything.

Until then she had thought she had a crush on her best friend, one that would fade in time when she found the man who made her feel as loved as Memphis did, a man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

It only took one kiss to show her how wrong she had been.

It wasn’t merely a crush.

It never had been.

Chapter 4

Kennedy hid out in her apartment the rest of the weekend hoping to avoid both Memphis and Brooks.

    She was pissed off at Brooks, hurt by his broken promise. She ignored his calls, the anger and pain increasing with every apologetic text he sent or voice mail he left: he got caught up in work, he lost track of time, there was an emergency that came up. He had all the excuses she expected him to have, but for the first time in their relationship, Kennedy didn’t believe him. She suspected he just plain forgot.

The fact that he could easily forget such an important night hurt her more than if he had been busy or lost track of time. If an emergency had come up at least he would have had a valid reason for not showing up, and that she could overlook. She would have still been disappointed, but she would have been able to forgive him. But not remembering? That cut deep. Especially when they talked about it and he promised to be there.

Ignoring Brooks was easy; avoiding Memphis made her feel guilty. He had only done what she asked him to do, and because of it, she was hiding from him. It was her own damn fault and she was punishing him by making him think she was angry at him by not returning his calls.

She was confused by her reaction to his kiss. Confused and scared. She couldn’t act on her feelings, but she couldn’t ignore them either. Telling Memphis was out of the question, she didn’t want to confess the sparks she felt when he kissed her. It was obvious he knew it was a bad idea from the way he acted that night. He was tense, hesitant. He only did it because she asked him to, not because he wanted to. Memphis would do anything she asked of him, including something that obviously made him uncomfortable.