Adoring Keaton: A Stand-Alone Friends-to-Lovers MM Romance (The Kennedy Boys Book 9)

by Siobhan Davis

  Melissa is sitting on the floor, in front of a bedside table that’s fallen on its side, her hair all messed up, her red-rimmed eyes bloodshot and swollen. Her skin is flushed, and the red splotches on her cheeks confirm she was crying. Shards of broken glass surround her as she stares up at me with horror-stricken eyes. Used condoms litter the ground, leaving an even nastier taste in my mouth.

  As if she’s just noticed she’s completely naked, Mel pins her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself. “Keats, I—” She cuts herself off, sobbing.

  “You fucking asshole,” I seethe, pinning the full extent of my glare on my brother. “What the fuck have you done?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Austen

  “I think that’s pretty obvious,” Kent says, the ugly sneer on his mouth enlarging. “Your ex deserved a proper dicking.” Tugging the covers up to his waist, he wraps the sheet around himself, sitting upright and planting his feet on the ground. “It’s not like you ever fucked her right.”

  Melissa continues to sob, her eyes flitting between Kent and Keaton, and I’m wondering what he ever saw in this girl. I get that she’s hurting, but fucking his brother, his triplet, to get back at him is a real low blow. I work hard to maintain a neutral expression, but I want to rip both of them a new one. How fucking dare they hurt Keaton like this.

  “What did you do to get her to agree to this?” Keaton asks, moving into the room in only his boxers. Swiping a T-shirt from the ground, he wordlessly hands it to Melissa.

  Kent barks out a laugh. “I didn’t have to do anything, brother.” Kent stares at Keaton’s ex as she pulls his shirt on over her head. “Mel has always had the hots for me.”

  “That’s not true,” Melissa blurts, swiping at the tears still flowing down her face.

  She moves to stand, but Keaton shakes his head. “Don’t move,” he cautions. “You could cut yourself.”

  Kent snorts. “You’re such a pussy. She just fucked me. Repeatedly, all night long,” he says, really digging the knife in. “And all you care about is that she doesn’t cut herself?”

  “Melissa is single, and it’s none of my business who she fucks, but I still care about her, and I don’t want to see her hurt.” He narrows his eyes at his brother. “I know that’s a foreign concept to you, because you’re a selfish prick who never thinks about anyone else.” Keats looks to me over his shoulder. “Could you grab me some sweats and sneakers from my room?”

  I leave, returning a minute later with his things. I hand them to Keaton, watching him get dressed so I don’t have to look at his jerk of a brother, because right now, I want to wring his neck. This was a clear intentional move to hurt Keaton—on both their parts—and I’ve little patience or tolerance for either of them.

  “Quit your sniveling,” Kent snaps at Melissa, rubbing his brows. “Own your fucking shit like a grown-up.” He lights a joint, taking a long drag on it, as he stares at the girl. “You weren’t crying last night when my cock was in your cunt and I was fingering your ass.”

  Melissa’s cheeks stain red, and she hangs her head as Keaton walks to her, lifting her up and over the broken glass. He sets her down before pushing the glass aside with the toe of his sneaker.

  “Keats. I’m so sorry,” she blurts, panic evident on her face. “I was drunk and hurting and—”

  “What the actual fuck is going on here?” someone screeches in a high-pitched voice behind me, and I know things are about to head south.

  Whitney barges into the room, pushing past me like a tornado hell-bent on causing maximum destruction. Her gaze bounces from Kent to Keaton to Melissa before landing on the used rubbers on the floor. Her hands ball up, and her nostrils flare as steam practically billows from her ears.

  “Did you fuck her after fucking me?” she roars at Kent, shoving his shoulders.

  He smirks, taking another drag from his joint. “Relax, babe. You’re still queen slut. She was a lousy fuck.”

  I honestly don’t have words for this guy.

  Kent fixes Melissa with a look that has her whimpering and clutching on to Keats. I’m two seconds away from ripping her hands off him when my boyfriend does it for me, positioning her arms back at her sides and warning her with an obvious look.

  Kent smirks before delivering his next blow. “She just lay there like a fucking retard while I drove my cock, my fingers, and my tongue into every hole. But I’m guessing that’s all she knows.”

  “Kent. I’m warning you,” Keats grits out, shaking his head as a sobbing Melissa reaches for him again. Keaton takes a step back, adding more distance between them. He glares at his brother, and I can tell he’s close to his breaking point. At this stage, I want Keats to wipe that smug grin off Kent’s face. “Shut your fucking mouth.”

  “A faggot doesn’t know how to satisfy a woman,” Kent continues, regardless. “It’s no wonder the poor bitch just lies back and zones out.”

  Keats lunges at Kent at the same time Whitney charges at Melissa, pushing her to the floor. Keaton throws a punch in Kent’s face, and it’s hugely satisfying. Although, I wish I was the one swinging fists, because this is going to hurt my boyfriend in the long run.

  Melissa screams, and I divert my attention to the girls, moving toward them while keeping an eye on the guys.

  Whitney is sitting on Melissa’s chest with one hand fisted in her hair as she yanks Melissa’s head up and then slams it back down on the ground. Melissa claws her nails down Whitney’s cheek as she fights to shove her off, and Whitney loses her shit, shouting obscenities as she punches Melissa in the face. Melissa screams again, bucking and thrashing as she tries to fight Whitney off.

  Kent and Keaton roll off the bed onto the floor, swinging punches. My instinct is to protect my boyfriend, but I know he won’t thank me for it, even if he’ll regret this later. Instead, I pull an out-of-control Whitney off Melissa, knowing it’s what Keats would want.

  Kyler and Kalvin rush into the room, cursing under their breath as they race to their brothers, pulling them apart. I’m grateful Alex, James, Adam, and his girlfriend, Callie, are out walking and not here to witness this.

  “Oh my God,” Faye says from the doorway, a hand over her mouth as she surveys the mayhem.

  Melissa is full-scale sobbing again, watching the mess she created from her position on the floor. Her nose is bleeding, her lip is busted, and her cheek is red and will most likely bruise. I have zero fucks to give, and little sympathy, because she started this when she chose to get revenge on her ex by sleeping with his brother.

  “Stay out of this, Faye,” Kyler shouts, attempting to wrestle Kent back. Vitriol is spewing from Kent’s mouth, and if it wasn’t for the raving lunatic female thrashing in my arms, I’d be all over his ass, beating him to a pulp.

  Keanu sprints into the room, and I thrust Whitney at him, just as her elbow connects with my cheekbone. Stinging pain rips across my face as I reach for Melissa, offering her my hand, because she’s going to get trampled if she doesn’t stand up.

  “Austen!” Keaton yells, wriggling in Kalvin’s arms, still looking enraged. “Get Mel out of here.”

  “Lose my number, Mel,” Kent roars. “I’m done with your boring ass.”

  Whitney goes apeshit, shouting insults and death threats at Melissa as Keven enters the room, his intelligent eyes quickly assessing the situation. “Whitney. Shut the hell up,” he says. “Unless you want me to retrieve your father to come control you.” His heated glare extends around the room. “Everyone, calm the fuck down.” Cheryl pushes into the room, shaking her head. Keven looks at his fiancée, and some unspoken communication passes between them. He swings his gaze to me. “Get Melissa out of the house, Austen. Cheryl will meet you out front, and she’ll drive her home.”

  I steer a trembling, sobbing Melissa out through the door, past the women gathered there. Cheryl has disappeared to get the car, I’m assuming.

  “Austen,” Faye says, appearing alongside me. “I’ll come with you.” I nod, a
ppreciating the moral support. “Melissa.” Faye gently touches her arm as we walk. “Are you okay?” She hands her a tissue.

  Melissa shakes her head, sobbing as she dabs at her nose. “I didn’t mean to do it. I don’t even like Kent. He’s always so horrible to me.”

  As if she just fell on Kent’s cock. I resist an eye roll.

  Faye perceptibly stiffens, and her worried eyes flit to mine. Her mouth opens and closes, and I take pity on her, voicing what I believe to her concern.

  “Were you aware of what you were doing?” I ask Melissa. “Was it consensual?”

  She hangs her head, and Faye and I share another look.

  “He didn’t force me,” she admits after a few tense beats. “In fact, he asked me several times if I wanted to do it. If I wanted to keep going.” A strangled sob escapes her mouth. “We were both drunk, but he made sure.” She lifts her head. “I willingly cheated on Keats.”

  A muscle clenches in my jaw, and I’m done holding back. “He’s not your boyfriend, so you can’t cheat on him,” I say. “And using his brother in a deliberate attempt to hurt him for being true to himself is a really shitty thing to do. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

  “Don’t fucking pretend like you know me.” Her lips pull into a sneer, and I’m sensing I’m finally getting a glimpse of the real Melissa. “And I know Keaton better than you’ll ever know him.”

  I glare at her, done trying to be nice. “I already know more about him after a few months than you know after years, because you never made any attempt to understand him. I don’t know what your agenda was or is, but you’re done. You should cut your losses and run.”

  “Keats has done nothing to deserve your petty revenge,” Faye says, stomping to the front door and swinging it wide-open. “You may not want my advice, but I’m giving it to you anyway. Stay away from Keaton, and stay away from Kent. There is no scenario where this ends well.” She drills her with a look I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but screw that shit. I’m not holding back now.”

  I smother my proud smile, encouraging Faye to bring it all—claws, fangs, and everything.

  “I’ve never been able to figure you out,” she says. “And it always bugged me, but I see it clearly now. You’re a fucking gold-digger. You just wanted to stick your claws into a Kennedy. You tried with Kent first, and when he brushed you off, you latched on to Keaton because he always sees the good in everyone and he would never have accepted your interest in him as anything but genuine. You’ve made little effort to get to know us, and you haven’t integrated into the family like the other girls, because you honestly couldn’t give a fuck about us. You just wanted the ring, the name, and the bank balance, and you were going to do your own thing. I’m betting you would’ve turned on the waterworks and refused to sign a pre-nup so you’d walk away wealthy after the inevitable divorce.”

  And there we have it, ladies and gentlemen.

  The ugly truth, fully exposed.

  I don’t need to have been around these past few years to know that Faye has hit the nail on the head.

  It all stacks up.

  Why Melissa never pushed Keats when it was clear he wasn’t into their relationship.

  Why she didn’t challenge him on his lack of interest in sex.

  Why she tolerated the on-off nature of their relationship in recent times.

  Keats even mentioned she was pressuring him to get engaged after they graduated high school.

  Now it all makes sense.

  That stupid, conniving bitch never truly cared for him. Keaton was just a means to an end for her. But now the ruse is up, and in a twisted form of poetic justice, Kent has just freed his brother from his residual guilt.

  Karma is a beautiful thing.

  Melissa glowers at Faye, with thinly concealed rage, before her face transforms to a more familiar mask. Her lower lip wobbles, and tears build in her eyes.

  “You can drop the sob story because I’m not buying it,” Faye says, crossing her arms. “You set out to reel Kent in, thinking you could switch your affections to him. Well, news flash. That will happen over my dead fucking body.”

  “Fuck you, whore,” Melissa spits out, lunging at Faye.

  I jump in between them, shielding Faye with my body as I push Melissa back. “It’s time you left,” I say, my tone cold and unforgiving. I don’t care how the bitch is getting home. She can walk in her bare feet for all I care.

  She spins around, as if to head back into the house, and I grab her elbow, stalling her. “The door is that way.” I jerk my head at the open door.

  “I’m not leaving without my purse and my clothes,” she snaps, attempting to wrestle out of my grip. She didn’t seem concerned about them before, and I’m guessing she planned to use that as an excuse to call Kent and try to manipulate him into meeting her.

  “Here,” Kyler says, storming toward us with a face like thunder. He shoves her clothes, shoes, and purse at her. “Leave and never come back here. You’re not welcome.” He looks over my shoulder, to where Faye is shielded behind my back, his face paling. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Austen protected me.”

  Kyler nods at me, his eyes conveying respect and gratitude.

  Faye slides out from behind me, moving to meet Kyler as he walks to her side. His eyes lower to her stomach before he checks every inch of her face. Seemingly satisfied, he pulls her into his arms before turning them around as the sound of a car engine rumbles from outside.

  “That’s your cue to leave,” he tells Melissa.

  “Fuck you all,” she says as Cheryl pulls up in a black X5. Melissa flips us the bird before stalking outside and climbing into the car.

  “At least we finally put the trash out,” Faye says, resting her head on her husband’s chest as she taps out a message on her cell. If I had to guess, she’s warning Cheryl about what’s transpired in the last few minutes.

  “I never liked that girl,” Kyler says.

  “You haven’t heard the half of it,” Faye says, stifling a yawn.

  “Welcome home,” Kyler deadpans, shutting the door with his wife still in his arms. It’s like he physically can’t let her go. Like it would pain him to do so. They have this epic kind of love—the kind I want with his brother.

  Faye looks over at me, and her lips kick up at the corner. “It wouldn’t be a Kennedy family party without drama.”

  “So I’ve heard.” I rub the back of my neck. “I know Kent is struggling to accept who Keaton is, but why would he treat his brother like this?”

  “Kent is complicated,” Kyler says.

  “That’s no excuse.”

  “It isn’t, and he’s really done it now,” Faye says, sighing. She rubs her stomach absentmindedly, and it clicks in my head. “He’s regressing, and Whitney is in a bad place again, and I just wish they would stay away from one another because it’s making things worse.”

  “Wait? He was with Whitney again?” Kyler asks.

  Faye nods. “I only found out last night. Whitney was upset because she had sex with him and then he brushed her off. Apparently, he’s been meeting up with her on occasion in New York.”

  Wow. Kent really is a selfish asshole. How does he get away with treating people he claims to love in such a shitty manner? He doesn’t get a free pass just because he’s family. He has been vicious and vindictive, and unless he grovels at Keaton’s feet, he is undeserving of forgiveness, in my opinion. I will respect whatever decision Keats makes, and I will hold my own feelings aside, but if Kent continues to treat my boyfriend like this, then all bets are off.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Keaton

  “Sorry everything turned to shit today,” I tell Austen as we enter our apartment later that evening.

  “It’s cool. I’m happy to go with the flow.” He deposits our bags on the floor in the hall and pulls me into his arms. His eyes scrutinize mine. “Are you doing okay?”

  I place my
hands on his shoulders while he grips my waist. “I’m fine.” He arches a brow, and I smile. “Truthfully, I am.”

  “I thought learning the truth about Melissa would set you back, and I know you’re pissed at Kent.”

  I shuck out of his arms, clawing my hands through my hair. “Let’s order takeout and then talk.”

  Austen calls our order in with the Chinese place down the street while I grab a quick shower and change. When I emerge from my bedroom a short while later, I find my boyfriend lying lengthways on the couch, in sweats, yawning. “Tired?” I bend down to kiss his brow.

  “It’s been an eventful twenty-four hours,” he says, lifting so I can sit down. He rests his head in my lap, and I wind my fingers in his hair, admiring his perfect face.

  “It has.” A smile plays across my lips. “I’m so happy for Faye and Kyler, and Rachel and Brad.”

  Lunch got canceled today after the showdown this morning. Kent stormed off back to Boston without telling anyone, so he missed my brother’s big news—Faye is three months pregnant, and they’re not returning to Australia. It was double the joy when Rachel started crying, which forced Brad to admit they are also expecting a baby, and the girls were an emotional mess when they discovered they are due to give birth only ten days apart. Of course, Mom was beside herself, and she’s already planning baby showers and the addition of a new wing at the house for more rooms for her grandbabies, and it helped to defuse the tension from this rift between Kent and me.

  “I figured it out when we were escorting Melissa out,” Austen admits. “Kyler was very protective of Faye.”

  “He’s like that on a normal day. I bet he barely leaves her side the entire pregnancy.” Gently, I probe the bruise blossoming on Austen’s cheek, thanks to Whitney’s stray elbow. “Does that hurt?” I ask.

  He shakes his head, looking amused. “It’s a bruise, Keats. Relax.”

  His hands move to my face, his finger tracing over my cut lip and the swelling on my jawline. “Does that?”

  “Not much,” I reply, flexing my sore jaw. “And it was worth it, because I feel better after punching him a few times.” It’s a miracle Kent didn’t inflict more damage because he’s the stronger out of the two of us. Either he was subconsciously holding back or my anger leveled the playing field.