Free The Smart One by Ellen Meister

remember?”
    He moved a lock of hair from my forehead and I thought he was going to kiss me. His lips parted the tiniest bit, and I imagined the warmth inside his mouth, the slickness of his tongue, the heavenly feeling of his broad chest pressed against mine. My panties were getting even wetter than my clothes.
    “The loser of the family?” Kenny said, his face inches from mine. “Oh, Bev, for a smart girl you are such a dope.”
    “Clearly you’re an expert on family relations.”
    Me and my sarcasm. He took a step back and set his jaw. “Don’t bring my father into this, okay?”
    So I sabotaged the moment. Likely my subconscious wasjust smarter than I was and knew what a terrible mistake I’d be making. Our history was too complicated to attempt a meaningless sexual encounter before he jetted back to Los Angeles. Though, admittedly, the thought that he wanted me lit my libido like a Grucci fireworks show at Jones Beach.
    In an attempt to shake off the hormonal launch sequence activated by my sex-starved imagination, I changed the subject, telling Kenny the Goodwins’ visit had taken me by surprise. “I didn’t know they were coming for another look today until they got here,” I said.
    Kenny sighed, as if he were physically releasing the anger he just felt. “Me neither.”
    “I thought that’s why you came.”
    “No, I came because I’m going to be staying here in this house for a while. My things are in the car.”
    “Don’t you have to get back to L.A.?”
    He shook his head. “Actually, no. I’ve been meaning to tell you—the reason I’m in town is because I’m talking to some folks who may be crazy enough to hire me to write for them. I could be in New York to stay.”
    Whoa. Kenny was moving to New York? That cast his interest in a whole different light. I’d been thinking he saw me as a quick lap around the block, but since I hadn’t told him I was hoping to move to Las Vegas, he had every reason to think I’d be around. Did this mean he was really interested? And did it matter?
    “I didn’t know,” I said. “Is it a TV show? Something I’ve heard of?”
    He smirked and nodded. “Letterman.”
    I gasped. “Letterman! That must be your dream job.”
    “Nothing’s definite yet,” he said. “We could be in negotiations for weeks. That’s why I gave up my expensive hotel room in the city today.”
    “You’re moving into your parents’ house?”
    “Just temporarily.” He touched my shoulder with the back of his hand. “We’ll be next-door neighbors again.”
    I didn’t know how to react to that. It left the possibility of some kind of relationship wide open—at least for the summer—and I needed time to take that in. I changed the subject by asking him how he got his foot in the door with Letterman’s people, and he explained that he had worked on a couple of episodes of Everybody Loves Raymond , one of Letterman’s projects, so they knew him. I feigned surprise; I didn’t want him to know I had kept track of any part of his career. But the truth was I knew more about the trajectory of his resume than I wanted to admit, even to myself.
    “We should go inside,” I said. “Sounds like Joey is coming to the end of her song.”

Chapter 8
    We opened the door just in time to join in the applause. Joey started to take a bow, but when she spotted Kenny she leaped from the table.
    “Kenny!” she squealed, throwing her arms around him.
    Oh yeah. It was a good thing I didn’t kiss him. These two could be going at it again within hours. She released her embrace and stepped back so he could get a good look. Clearly, she was offering herself to him. I shivered, the chill from my damp clothes soaking through to my bones.
    “I would say that I don’t get to see enough of you,” Kenny said as he surveyed Joey’s half-naked body, “but under the circumstances…”
    Joey laughed. “How have you been , K? I hear you’re a big man in Burbank.”
    “Oh yeah, a giant