Like I’m going to manhandle it or something. I’ve got great hands, as evidenced by my performance against Indiana. Nailed their asses to the wall, putting us one step closer to the championship game. Besides, I’m pretty sure the only person in the apartment who’s ever gone full Hulk mode is Kennedy.
But I don’t point it out because I want to get laid later.
“Hush.” She gets down on her knees to inspect the robot and I watch, transfixed, as she presses her cheek to the floor with her ass up in the air.
For the love of God, is she trying to kill me? So much for semihard. My cock is now pressed uncomfortably against my zipper and this little study group has shown no signs of fatigue. It’s going to be a long fucking night.
My only consolation? It won’t be nearly as long as the evening I spent in the coffee shop, tapping my boot on the tile floor, hoping Kennedy’s father wouldn’t prove to be a grade A piece of shit. I wanted so badly for it to work out for her. She deserves better than the hand she’s been dealt, and I know it wasn’t easy for her to give him another chance. To let herself be vulnerable.
I still can’t believe that asshole came sniffing around just to try and make a buck off her.
Just the thought of it heats my blood. She’s his only kid, for fuck’s sake. My old man might push me, but I know he loves me. He’d never try to take advantage of me, and he’d squash anyone who did. That’s what it means to be family. Obviously her father doesn’t get the concept.
His loss. If he can’t see what an amazing woman his daughter is, he doesn’t deserve her.
Still, I hope we never cross paths. He hurt Kennedy. No way I’ll give him the chance to do it again.
A wave of protectiveness surges through me. I abandon my Global Marketing text and join them in the tiny kitchen. The robot is rolling around, knocking down one plastic tube after another. I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure it’s not supposed to be doing that. I watch as the bot takes down another tube, the ball atop hitting the floor and rolling toward the stove where it joins six other balls of varying sizes.
“Dammit.” Kennedy plants her fists on her hips, an adorable little wrinkle forming on her brow. Can’t say I blame her for being frustrated. They’ve been tinkering with the robot for hours. “I really thought we had it that time.”
“Can I try?” I ask.
There’s a resounding “No!” and they start bickering about whether the issue is the robot’s response time or the sensitivity of the remote. Me? I think it’s the drivers. It’s clear they haven’t played Mario Kart a day in their lives.
Enzo sits the remote down and starts jotting down notes. I grab it and set the little fucker to task. I collect two balls and drop them in the designated box without knocking over a single tube.
“How’d you do that?” Kennedy demands.
I smirk. Not because I’m an asshole, but because I know it gets her hot. “Years of practice.”
She narrows her eyes and I shrug. “What? I play a lot of video games. We can’t all have your STEM-loving brainpower.”
“Go again,” Enzo says, putting his notes aside. He resets the grid, righting the fallen tubes and balls with a practiced hand. When he’s done, I maneuver the robot around the kitchen—taking a long, indirect route to better showcase my mad driving skills—and select two more balls and deposit them in the bin as they watch in disbelief.
“Show off.” Kennedy sighs, toying with the end of her braid. “So, basically we just need to practice.”
“That’s a good thing,” Enzo says. “It means the problem isn’t the design.”
“Nope,” I say, cheerfully handing over the remote. “It’s your total lack of skill with a joystick.”
They both glare at me. “You know, this thing would be way cooler if it could battle. Did you think about putting like a cutting tool or a hammer or something on it? I used to watch this show when I was a kid—”
“Absolutely not.” Kennedy rolls her eyes, but it’s all for show. She wants to laugh. I can see it in the tilt of her lips. And after the week she’s had? She deserves it. Of course, I can think of better ways to work the tension from her body, but Enzo’s got to go. “No BattleBots.”
“Too bad. It would be better that way.” I hook a thumb at Enzo. “Ask him. He knows what I’m saying.”
“Man, leave me out of this.” Enzo flicks his attention to Kennedy. “Don’t listen to him. The design is perfect just the way it is.”
“Thank you.” She hops to her feet and turns her attention on me. She gets up in my personal space, poking me in the chest with her finger. “This is important. It’s my last chance to final.” She’s so close I can smell her flowery shampoo. “I’ve been close before, but never made it.” She looks up at me with those big, dark eyes, excitement flaring in their depths. “I need to be on that stage.”
“I know. And you will be,” I say, snaking a hand around her waist so it rests just above her ass. “But I can’t help it if all this sexy nerd power gets me excited.”
“We’ve got work to do,” Enzo says, keeping his eyes glued to the robot. “Don’t go getting my partner all hot and bothered.”
“Too late.” His head jerks toward me. I wink at him for good measure. It’s a total Coop move, but I can’t deny it’s effective.
“That’s it. I’m calling it a night.” Enzo grabs his backpack and begins shoving books and leftover parts inside. “It’s getting too damn weird up in here.” He turns to Kennedy. “If
