Lithium Tides: A Lithium Springs Novel

by Carmel Rhodes

  Kensie always marveled at how someone as clever and business savvy as Annabelle Knight ended up as arm candy for one Thomas Knight. Trey’s dad was as ruthless and calculating as they came. Annabelle had given up any possible career to cater to Thomas’s, Trey’s, and Liam’s every whim. She was fiercely protective of her boys and she’d do anything to ensure their happiness.

  It had taken three months before Annabelle acknowledged Kensie’s existence, another two before she uttered her name. In fact, they’d only had their first real conversation a few months ago, once Annabelle realized that despite her best efforts, Trey was hopelessly in love.

  “I don’t think either of us want that,” Kensie confessed.

  Annabelle’s eyes bore into Kensie’s. “You’re right, but he thinks he’s in love with you.”

  “I thought I was in love with him, too.”

  “You two are all wrong for each other. He still thinks you’re the one. The more I try to convince him otherwise, the more he clings to you. He’s always been a fool when it comes to girls. He nearly flushed his entire future down the toilet over some tart who only cared about his money. At least we don’t have to worry about that with you,” Annabelle said as if it were a compliment.

  “At least.” Kensie bit her tongue, desperately trying to remain respectful, but Annabelle was no longer a factor in her life and her patience for the nitpicking was wearing thin.

  “Thankfully, it worked itself out. Trey stayed out of trouble and I was able to convince him to cut the trash out of his life for good.”

  Time stopped ticking. Kensie’s heart stopped beating. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “He needed to focus on his future, not some misplaced sense of loyalty. Anyway, that’s in the past. Now, I need to figure out what I’m going to do about you. All that pedigree, all that beauty, wasted.”

  “Lucky for you, I prefer the company of trash over selfish, self-serving assholes like you and your son. Enjoy the spa, you cold-hearted bitch,” Kensie seethed, before yanking her towel up and storming out.

  She was fuming. Part of her felt bad for Trey, having to grow up with the Wicked Witch of Seattle, but a part of her didn’t. Liam grew up in the same house, with the same parents, and he was as sweet and selfless as they came. He’d never do what Trey did, no matter what Annabelle wanted.

  Kensie’s hands were shaking as she wrapped herself in the towel. It was time for her massage, but it took everything in her not to go back in there and tell Annabelle exactly how she felt.

  She sucked in a sharp breath as she headed through the locker room over towards the room where the masseuse was waiting. She was still trying to process what had just happened. Kensie always knew Trey’s mother would do anything to protect her children; hell, she’d spent the better part of last year as the sole recipient of her malice, but she never in a million years could have guessed that Annabelle was behind Trey’s dismissal of Carter.

  Annabelle loved Reagan like she was her own daughter. The Thayers and the Knights seemed to be like family, so why would she counsel her son to abandon his closest friend?

  Kensie sighed, willing her anger down. “This is supposed to be relaxing. Breathe, Kensie,” she told herself, “just breathe.” She repeated her little mantra four times before she was calm enough to enter the massage room. “Hi.” Kensie smiled tightly at the woman in white.

  “Hi! Kensington, right?” the masseuse asked.

  “Yeah, that’s me,” she responded, looking around the dimly lit room. Her voice was laced with confusion as she noticed the older woman sitting on the second massage table.

  “Kensington?” the woman asked. Kensie recognized her instantly; she had the same dark-brown hair as Reagan, and the same blue eyes as Carter and Grant.

  “Mrs. Thayer? Hi, I don’t think we’ve met,” she said, extending her hand to Carter’s mom.

  “No, we haven’t, but I hear you’re sleeping with my son.”

  Nope, Kensie thought to herself as she retracted her hand.

  Nope.

  Nope.

  Nope.

  She didn’t have the energy to deal with another crazy mother. One was enough for today. And unlike Annabelle, this was the one she’d be stuck with.

  “Kensington, wait.”

  “With all due respect, Mrs. Thayer, yesterday was rough and today isn’t shaping up to be much better. I can’t do this right. I know I’m a terrible person who’s all wrong for your baby boy, but lucky for me, he loves me anyway.”

  “Well, I wasn’t thinking that exactly. I’m curious to get to know the woman who has my son and his best friend so deeply captivated that one is proposing marriage and the other is professing his unwavering love.”

  “Carter and Trey are not friends.”

  “Reagan tells me you know why.”

  “Maybe if you were less concerned with keeping the peace and cared more about your son, he’d tell you, too.”

  Kensie didn’t bother to wait for a response. She turned and got the hell out of there before she buried herself in a deeper hole. She’d never changed so quickly in her life. On the elevator back up to the second floor, she tapped out a text to Jamie briefly explaining where she went, then headed to her room to retrieve the ring.

  “You’re back already?” Carter asked in surprise. He was standing in front of the mini bar with a cold bottle of Corona pressed against his lip. His shirt was stretched out around the collar and his knuckles were purple.

  “What happened?” Kensie gasped. All thoughts of past and potential monsters-in-law vanished as she took in her boyfriend’s appearance.

  “You should see the other guy,” Carter said, wincing slightly as he popped the cap off the beer and took a long swig.

  “Trey?” she asked, gently touching the corner of his mouth.

  “Javi,” he grunted, pulling her into his arms. He trailed light kisses down the side of her throat, his lips cold from the beer.

  “What happened?”

  “Family is off-limits.”

  She pushed him back slightly; he had to be joking. “You guys got into a fist fight because he hooked up with your cousin?” Her voice was incredulous. Quinn was a grown woman and Javi was one of his best friends, surely this could have been settled with a simple conversation. “Is he okay?”

  CT scoffed, “He’s fine.”

  “Are you guys okay?”

  “Yes, baby, guys aren’t like girls. We don’t hold grudges. We fought and now it’s over.”

  “Boys are stupid,” she snorted, rolling her eyes.

  “Why aren’t you getting a massage?” he questioned, picking her up and setting her on the mini bar. He spread her legs as far apart as they’d go, his eyes trained at the apex of her thighs.

  “I met your mom.”

  “Thanks,” he grumbled, pushing her legs back together.

  “The first thing she said to me was, I hear you’re sleeping with my son.”

  “Yikes.” Carter cringed, as he picked the beer bottle back up and took another sip.

  “Yeah, and that was after Annabelle told me that my looks and pedigree were wasted on me.”

  “Annabelle is a bitch.”

  “That’s not the worst part.” She grabbed the beer from his hand and drained half the bottle. She knew the next part would be hard for him to hear, but she couldn’t keep it from him.

  “It gets worse?”

  She nodded, trying to think of the best way to tell him. How was she supposed to say it? How was she supposed to twist the knife that was already planted in his back? “She’s the reason Trey did what he did. She told him to cut the trash out of his life—her words—not mine.”

  Carter swallowed so deeply his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. His gaze seared her. She could see the gears turning and clanking in his mind. They’d known each other for such a short time, but Kensie could read him like a book. She saw past the tattoos, and zero-fucks-given attitude, down to his heart. “Don’t!” she sighed, running he
r fingers through the messy brown locks sitting on top of his head.

  “Don’t what?” he whispered, leaning into her touch.

  “Don’t start thinking that maybe Trey isn’t an asshole after all. He was nineteen years old when this happened. He was old enough to know better.”

  “I know, baby…I just, fuck—” He took the beer back from her, and chugged what was left of it. “I think I need to fuck you,” he said, pushing her legs apart again.

  “I think I can handle that, but I need five minutes.”

  “Why?”

  “I need to give the ring back,” she whispered.

  “Bring it to the rehearsal dinner.” He kissed her cheek.

  “I don’t want to do it in front of everyone.”

  “I don’t want you alone with him.” He didn’t say it, but she could see it in his eyes, the memory of the last time she was alone with Trey haunted him still.

  “You have nothing to worry about,” Kensie assured him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, forcing him to look at her. “I’ll be gone for five minutes and then I’ll come back, and you can fuck me senseless.”

  “Five fucking minutes, Kensington, and then I’m coming to get you.”

  “Okay,” she said, pressing a kiss to his lips. Grabbing the ring, she made her way down the hall. Each step towards Trey’s room felt like a mile, and yet, the closer Kensie got, the heavier the Cartier box felt in her palm. It’s yours if you want it. How many times had she fantasized about him proposing? Maybe some big romantic gesture, in front of their friends and family, or a quiet evening in, just the two of them. Mrs. Knight, she had wanted that once. She had wanted to be that person, or at least she had thought she did.

  Trey was Prince Charming, after all. Perfect on paper, successful, safe. Carter would never be the safe choice. He’d never be the perfect guy or work a nine-to-five job. There would always be women throwing themselves at him, but she found solace in something her mother said months ago.

  We aren’t perfect. I couldn’t stand your father when we first met, I still can’t half the time. He pushes every one of my buttons and challenges me in ways no one ever has before. He drives me insane, and yet I’m so foolishly, hopelessly in love.

  She’d never be happy with Trey. She’d never be happy with anyone other than the heavily tattooed drummer who, in such a short time, had broken down all her walls and inserted himself into her heart. Kensie rapped on the door three times.

  Knock.

  Knock.

  Knock.

  The door swung open, relief shined bright in Trey’s eyes. “Baby, you came.”

  “I’m not staying. I just wanted to give this back,” she said, holding up the ring.

  “Come inside. Talk to me, please.”

  “That’s not a good idea.”

  “You cheated on me. You broke my heart. Now you’re telling me that you don’t even have enough respect for what we had to come inside and fucking talk to me?”

  His voice was broken. Kensie could hear the pieces of his heart rattling as he spoke, but she had to stay strong. “Neither one of us were perfect.”

  “Maybe not, but I never cheated. I’d never do that to you.” Trey’s jaw ticked as he took a step forward.

  “No, you just tried to turn me into someone I’m not.”

  “Come inside. I don’t want to do this in the hallway.”

  “I can’t,” she said, and once again tried to hand him the ring.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Kensington, just talk to me, please.”

  “It’s not a good idea.” She met his gaze, imploring him to understand that it was over—that they were over.

  “Because of him?” The rattling was back. The broken man was too. This was harder than Kensie thought. She had loved Trey once, somewhere, deep down. It may not have been hopelessly or foolishly, but it was love.

  “Trey, this isn’t about me falling in love with someone else. You and I were wrong for each other.”

  “No, we aren’t. We hit a rough patch and you gave up on us, like you do everything else, but I won’t let you do this. Just give me a chance to prove that I’m the guy for you. Give me a fair fight. I only just discovered I’m competing for your heart.”

  “But that’s just it, you aren’t. There is no competition. It isn’t even a choice. It’s him. It will always be him for me.”

  “Does he even know you? Does he know about your past, about your trust issues? Does he know what kind of coffee you like? Your favorite color? Hell, does he even know when your fucking birthday is?” Tears and vulnerability spilled from his eyes. “Please. Please. Please.” He begged.

  Five minutes had come and gone, and Kensie didn’t doubt Carter would be there soon. Pressing the ring box in his palm, she said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you need.” She spoke softly as she closed his fingers around the box and pressed a kiss on his knuckles before turning her back on him for the last time. “Goodbye, Trey.”

  Time was a matter of perspective. It could either move at the speed of light or it could drag on for eternity. It all depended on the person, their place in life, their distance from a situation, and their ability to look past themselves and see things as they really were.

  To Reagan, this day had been a lifetime in the making. Liam had waited for this moment, for this girl, since he was thirteen years old. The Thayers and the Knights were like family for over thirty years and today’s ceremony would make it official.

  To Kensie, this was the day she’d been dreading since Reagan asked her to be a bridesmaid. Time flew into hyperdrive and fate threw her to the wolves. She was the outsider. The interloper meddling in family business. The harlot who had jumped from one lost boy of Bellevue to the other. The one who broke Trey’s heart, and the one making Carter choose between family and loyalty.

  Now that the day had arrived, the flowers, the dresses, the decor, every detail planned to perfection, the pendulum shifted. Perspectives switched. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it’s already one o’clock,” Reagan squealed as she fanned herself with her hands, desperately trying to quell her nerves. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

  Reagan’s maid of honor and best friend handed her a glass of pink champagne. “Just breathe, and have a drink,” Emerson coached, sitting her down in the makeup chair.

  Kensington watched as the scene played out in front of her in slow motion.

  The nine women—Kensie, seven other bridesmaids, and one very nervous bride—converged in the bridal suite of the Villa Terre Hotel and Spa. The team of hair and makeup arrived at ten, and one by one each girl was transformed into a princess for Reagan’s big day. Reagan was the last in the makeup chair, the artist taking special care to ensure the bride looked like a queen. Her eyes were soft brown and smoky, her lips creamy and nude, and her cheeks flushed with a soft pink hue. Her sleek black bob was styled in loose waves and a blush-colored rose pinned back the left side. She was whimsy and elegance personified.

  Just when Reagan drained the glass of champagne the door to the suite swung open and Annabelle and Penelope fluttered in with a large white garment bag. “It’s time!” Penelope cooed. Pride swelled in her eyes as she looked upon her daughter. Absently, Kensie wondered if the day would ever come that Penelope would look at her with the same adoration. If she’d take the same care in unzipping her dress from its bag. If she’d share the same small glances with her mother that she did with Annabelle.

  There was an audible gasp in the room as Reagan stepped into the strapless cream-colored dress. Her curvy frame was engulfed in layers of chiffon and lace. She was stunning, and everyone told her so. The tears and the champagne flowed freely as the nine women finished getting dressed. Kensie reluctantly took off her best fucking friends forever necklace and donned the mandatory infinity charm.

  She did her best to stay out of the fray, to keep her head down and blend in with the crowd. Despite their beginning, despite her past with Trey, Carter was her present and if she was lucky, he
’d be her future—they would be her future. He’d assured her that they’d come around; Reagan was already beginning to, but Kensie knew there’d be a mountain to climb.

  The women raised their glasses once more, as Annabelle gave an emotional speech about Reagan being the daughter she’d always wanted. Her eyes focused on Kensie as she told the room how perfect Reagan was for her son and how she could only hope Trey would be so lucky. Her sweet words were laced with venom but the rest of the bridal party was either too caught up in the moment or too polite to acknowledge the slight.

  “Alright, ladies,” the wedding coordinator announced with a clap of her hands, “the groom is in place. It’s time to make our way down to the gardens.”

  One by one the women made their way out of the suite. Kensie felt a tug on her elbow, Reagan. Her face was serene, her earlier nerves all but forgotten. “He loves you,” she whispered.

  Kensie couldn’t help the confused look that stretched across her face. She wasn’t sure which he Reagan was referring to.

  “My brother.”

  “Yes, he does.” Kensie smiled back.

  “I’ve never seen it before, but last night, after the rehearsal dinner, he pulled me and my mom aside and told us, in his words, to leave you the fuck alone. He’s never cursed in front of Mom before, never.”

  “I don’t want to come between you guys,” Kensie said, shaking her head.

  “We lost Carter ten years ago,” Reagan said sadly. “He barely comes around and when he does it’s like he can’t wait to leave.”

  Kensie had to literally bite her tongue to keep from saying something that might upset the bride. Inside she was screaming, because you threw him away, but instead she went with, “It’s not you. He just can’t get past the betrayal.”

  “How bad is it?” Reagan questioned.

  “It isn’t my secret to tell.”

  “Girls,” the wedding planner said, popping her head back into the room, “time to go.”