In Love With Him

Chapter 54

Kennedy POV

The second I got home from school, it was go-time. Marty had practically shoved the dress into my bag and threatened to call Liam herself if I chickened out. So now, here I was… standing in front of my mirror in my room, staring at myself with a weird mixture of pride, doubt, and panic.

The dress was… a lot.

It was black knit, off-the-shoulder, fitted in all the wrong—or maybe right—places. The neckline dipped in a teasing V that hugged my chest without revealing too much, while the sleeves puffed slightly before cinching at my wrists. A soft white ribbon threaded through the wide collar, tied into a delicate bow at the top. The hem stopped just at the top of my thighs, trimmed in the same white ruffle detail, innocent and suggestive all at once.

I paired it with sexy black thigh-high suede boots, the kind that whispered bad decisions with every step.

I left my hair down. My natural curls bounced softly around my shoulders. A little lip tint. Light mascara. Just enough to look like I wasn’t trying too hard… even though I absolutely was.

I took a deep breath and made my way downstairs, my fingers lightly clutching the railing as I moved.

“OH—my God,” Helen gasped, turning from the dining room. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

I blushed, but before I could say thanks, Dad looked up from the couch and instantly tensed.

His eyebrows raised. His jaw tightened.

Full-on Dad Panic mode activated.

“That’s the dress?” he said, like I’d walked downstairs in a garbage bag and stilettos.

Before I could answer, I spotted Dominic in the kitchen with Max, throwing popcorn at each other like two unsupervised idiots.

He turned mid-laugh, a piece of popcorn hitting his cheek and falling into the sink—but he didn’t react.

His eyes locked on me.

I froze.

The room felt like it narrowed, like it was just him and me. His stare wasn’t casual. It wasn’t brotherly. It was something else. Something that made my stomach twist into a nervous knot.

Then, of course, Max had to ruin the moment.

“Damn,” he muttered, walking past me. “You look like a hooker.”

“MAX!” I yelped, smacking the back of his head.

He ducked and laughed. “Kidding, kidding. You look nice… for a sister.”

With a bowl of popcorn in hand, he scrambled up the stairs.

Helen walked over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Have fun, sweetie.”

Dad followed, kissing my other cheek. “Not too much fun. Capisce?”

They disappeared upstairs, leaving just Dominic and me in the kitchen.

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, jaw tight.

Silence.

Then he finally spoke.

“You really think that’s an appropriate outfit?”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

His eyes raked over me again, slower this time, like he was trying to decide whether to be mad… or something else.

“That dress,” he said, straightening up. “It gives off the wrong message.”

My heartbeat spiked.

“What message is that, exactly?” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest.

His mouth opened, then closed.

“That you're looking for attention,” he said carefully. “The wrong kind.”

“Oh,” I laughed coldly. “So now you get to decide what kind of attention I want?”

“That’s not what I said—”

“Actually, it kind of is,” I cut in. “You don’t own me, Dominic. You don’t get to tell me what to wear or who to date.”

He looked pissed now, stepping toward me slightly. “You deserve better than Liam. He’s a f*****g tool, Kennedy. He’s just trying to get in his bed.”

“And you would know that because…?”

“Because I was him,” he bit out. “I know his type.”

I blinked. My throat felt dry. My stomach twisted again.

I wanted to scream at him, shove him, kiss him.

But instead, I said something stupid.

“Who do I deserve then?” I asked.

But I misspoke.

I meant what. I accidentally said who.

His eyes widened for the briefest second, and then he just… stared at me.

I waited.

Waited for him to say me. Waited for him to say something, anything, that would stop the ache in my chest.

But instead, the doorbell rang.

We both froze.

Dominic scoffed, breaking eye contact, shaking his head as if trying to shake off the moment. Like it didn’t mean anything.

Like I didn’t mean anything.

My heart cracked.

I swallowed down the lump in my throat and walked away from him, each step feeling heavier than the last. My hand trembled slightly as I reached for the door.

One last glance over my shoulder.

One last chance.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t stop me.

So I opened the door and walked out.

---

Dominic POV

The door clicked shut behind her.

I stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen, hands clenched so tight my knuckles cracked. My jaw was tight enough to snap. Every muscle in my body was screaming at me to go after her. To grab her hand. To tell her not to go. Tell her she didn’t need some jackass like Liam when she had me.

But I didn’t move.

I let her go.

Just like a f*****g coward.

I turned and slammed my fist into the countertop, the dull thud echoing through the empty room. My pulse roared in my ears, but no amount of anger could drown out the image of her standing in front of me in that dress.

God. That dress.

It hugged her like it was made just for her, showing off every curve, every soft line. The way her curls bounced around her face, that hint of gloss on her lips—it was everything and too much. Sexy. Soft. Unapologetically her. And all of it made me lose my damn mind.

She didn’t even realize what she did to me, walking down those stairs like that. Like she wasn’t the most dangerous thing in this house.

It wasn’t just the outfit. It was her.

It was always her.

Her eyes when she looked at me. Her voice when she challenged me. The way her lips parted when she got mad. The way she said, "You don’t own me."

She was right.

I didn’t own her.

But damn if I didn’t want to.

And then she said it. The words that cracked something open in my chest:

“Who do I deserve?”

She didn’t even realize what she said. Or maybe she did. Maybe it was her way of giving me an opening… a chance.

And I blew it. I f*****g blew it.

Because the truth was—she deserved someone better than me.

Someone who wasn’t messed up, who didn’t have fists full of trauma and a temper that scared the s**t out of him. Someone who wouldn’t freeze the second her lips trembled and her voice softened, silently begging for the thing I’ve wanted to say since the first time I saw her.

That she’s it for me.

She’s the only thing that feels like peace in a world that’s never been fair. The only thing that makes me want to be something more, something better.

I dragged my hands through my hair and let out a breath that burned.

Then I moved to the front window, to see headlights lit up the street. A silver car parked out front, Liam walking with Kennedy by his side, smiling like he hadn’t just taken something that wasn’t his.

And she laughed.

Goddammit, she laughed.

A soft little laugh I’d kill to be the reason for. A sound I’d pay to hear again. And it wasn’t for me.

He opened the car door for her, and she gave him that look. The one I’d seen a hundred times but now burned like a blade in my ribs.

The door shut.

They were gone.

I stood there in the dark, staring at the empty street like it owed me something.

But it didn’t.

Because this was my fault.

I let her go.

Again.

And deep down… I wasn’t sure I’d get another chance.