In Love With Him

Chapter 13

Kennedy’s POV

Shopping with Helen started out… awkward.

Like painfully awkward.

She meant well—I knew she did. But as soon as we walked into the mall and she started listing off stores like Forever 21, Hollister, and American Eagle, I could already feel my skin crawling.

I wasn’t a floral-dresses-and-pastel-sweaters kind of girl. Never had been.

I was about to politely say “I’ll just wait outside” when I caught a glimpse of a familiar black-and-neon sign near the end of the hall.

Nightshade Boutique.

My favorite store.

It was like the mall’s resident goth/alt rock sanctuary—racks of black skinny jeans, lace-trimmed tank tops, leather jackets, chunky boots, band tees, and mesh-layered everything. Some people thought it was emo, some thought it was edgy. Me? I just thought it was me.

Helen raised an eyebrow when she noticed where I was looking.

“You like that store?”

I hesitated for a second. “Yeah… it’s kind of my go-to.”

Instead of brushing it off, she smiled.

“Well, let’s check it out then.”

Huh. That was unexpected.

Inside, I felt myself start to relax. I ran my fingers along a black zip-up corset top with silver clasps and lace accents. I grabbed a cropped tee that said “Dead Inside But Still Horny” and smirked to myself. Probably not the kind of thing I’d wear to school, but funny nonetheless.

To my surprise, Helen started picking through racks too. She pulled out a faded Guns N’ Roses tank top and held it up to her chest.

“I had this exact one in high school.”

“You did?” I asked, glancing over at her.

She nodded. “I was a total metalhead. Black jeans, combat boots, full eyeliner wings that could slice a man.”

I laughed, the image of a teenage Helen forming in my head. “Didn’t see that coming.”

“Yeah, well,” she shrugged. “The badge doesn’t erase the past.”

As we browsed, I realized we actually had a lot in common. We liked the same music, both appreciated a good vintage leather jacket, and we both hated anything pink and frilly.

She wasn’t trying to be my mom—she just wanted to hang out. That alone made it easier to breathe.

We checked out with a few bags each, then made our way to a little cafe near the food court. It had outdoor seating and iced teas in mason jars. I ordered a chicken pesto sandwich, Helen went with a spinach wrap.

Halfway through eating, she leaned forward slightly, her voice casual but curious.

“So… your last year of high school. You excited?”

I shrugged, biting into my sandwich. “I guess. Mostly just wanna graduate and get out.”

Helen smiled. “That sounds about right. Senior year’s always strange. Half good memories, half wondering what’s next.”

I nodded.

Then she hit me with the big one.

“Is there… a special guy in your life?”

I choked.

Like, legit choked.

I had to put the sandwich down and grab my iced tea to recover. Helen reached across the table, concerned, but I waved her off.

“Sorry,” I croaked. “Went down the wrong pipe.”

Yeah. That was it. Not like she just asked if I had a boyfriend while my brain was screaming DOMINIC DOMINIC DOMINIC like a fire alarm.

I forced a smile and cleared my throat. “Uh… no. Not really. Just focusing on school.”

Not a total lie. But also not a total truth.

Helen smiled gently. “Good. That’s smart. Don’t let boys distract you. They’re usually not worth it at your age anyway.”

Except one is literally living in my house… I thought miserably.

After lunch, Helen made one final stop before heading home.

And of course—it was a lingerie store.

Why. God. Why.

I hovered awkwardly near the front while she perused lacy underthings and matching bralette sets like it was nothing. She waved me over and held up a cute, simple black set—lace but not see-through, and kind of… pretty.

“This would look good on you,” she said, genuinely.

My face flushed. “I don’t—uh—I mean, I don’t really—”

“It’s okay,” she cut in. “Doesn’t have to be for anyone. Sometimes it’s just nice to feel confident, you know?”

I didn’t know.

But I grabbed the set anyway and mumbled something about giving it a shot.

By the time we made it to the car, I had more bags than I’d ever taken home in one trip. Clothes, supplies, toiletries, and now… lingerie.

What. Even. Was. My life.

Helen turned up the radio and we drove in comfortable silence. For the first time, I didn’t feel so tense around her. She wasn’t trying to be my mom. She wasn’t trying to force me into something I wasn’t. She was just… trying to get to know me.

And I had to admit…

It wasn’t awful.

---

Dominic's POV

I was half-watching Game of Thrones with Max, but my brain was elsewhere. Max was too into the dragons and beheadings to notice I hadn’t said a word in ten minutes.

I kept glancing at the door. Wondering when they’d get back.

Wondering what she got.

Wondering why the hell I cared so much.

Then the door finally opened, and there they were—Mom and Kennedy, arms full of shopping bags. Her cheeks were pink from the sun or maybe from laughter, I couldn’t tell. Something about the way she brushed hair from her face as she stepped inside—it hit me in the gut.

She looked… happy.

“Hey, girls,” Paul said, coming out from the kitchen and planting a kiss on Mom’s cheek, then Kennedy’s forehead like it was just another ordinary day.

“How was it?” he asked.

“Fun,” Mom said, her smile soft.

Kennedy didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. Her arms were full of bags, and she started up the stairs without even looking at me.

But I looked.

And I noticed.

One of the bags had a black lace edge peeking out. I didn’t think twice—I was on my feet before she even hit the second step.

I followed her upstairs, slowly. Casually. Like I wasn’t already fighting the stupid heat climbing up the back of my neck. She disappeared into her room, the door left cracked open behind her.

I leaned against the frame. “So… what’d you get?”

She gasped and spun around, clutching one of the bags to her chest like I just caught her doing something illegal. That gasp again, I felt the blood start to rush to my d**k again. The look on her face almost made me laugh—almost. Instead, I smirked.

“Jesus, Dominic. Ever heard of knocking?” she said, cheeks flaring pink.

I shrugged and stepped inside like I owned the place. “You left the door open.”

“I didn’t mean—ugh,” she muttered.

I reached for one of the bags. She didn’t stop me in time. A few black shirts, jeans, some band tees. All very… her. Dark, simple. Understated. I liked it, even if it wasn’t my usual type.

Then I saw it.

Black lace. Classy, sexy.

I pulled the hanger out slowly and tilted my head.

“Well, well,” I muttered, holding it up. “Who’s this for?”

Kennedy’s eyes went wide. She snatched it from my hand like it burned her skin. “Why does it have to be for anyone?”

I raised a brow. “So it’s for you then?”

She glared. “What if it is?”

And that—God help me—made it worse. Way worse. The image of her wearing that black lace, alone in her room, made my throat tighten. I looked away before my face could give something away.

“You planning on hiding it under those baggy t-shirts of yours?” I teased, forcing the smirk back onto my face.

“You’re such a jerk,” she muttered, folding it and tucking it deep into her drawer.

“Hey,” I said more softly, holding my hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying. You clean up nice, princess.”

She didn’t say anything. Just stared at the drawer like it might bite her.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Anyway… dinner’s probably ready soon.”

I turned to go, but before I stepped out, I looked back.

“Don’t let anyone make you feel like you need to change who you are,” I said. “The black clothes. The quiet. The weird little quirks. They’re you. And that’s... kind of cool.”

She blinked, clearly not expecting that. Her expression softened for just a second before she rolled her eyes and muttered, “You’re still a jerk.”

But her voice was lighter. And I swear I saw the corner of her mouth twitch—almost a smile.

I shut the door behind me, heart still pounding like I’d just gone three rounds in the ring.