Finding Kyler (The Kennedy Boys #1)

by Siobhan Davis

  I sleep fitfully the rest of the night, tossing and turning relentlessly. Jet lag and anxiety clearly don’t sit well together. At five a.m., I give up the fight and change into my swimsuit. Grabbing a towel from the en suite press, I head out in search of the pool.

  The house is unearthly quiet as I pad through the empty corridors. After about ten minutes of trying different passageways, I finally find the exit leading outside.

  The air is already balmy, even at this early hour. Lilting little chirps emanate from the vicinity of the forest as I slip into the heated pool. My limbs relax as I dive in and out of the water. Limbering up, I swim countless laps of the pool as day breaks, only getting out when I feel an achy exhaustion seeping bone deep. Wrapping the towel around my body, I head inside.

  Faint sounds of music reach my ears as I walk the corridor leading to my bedroom. Curious, I keep walking beyond my door, beyond the corridor, and out into a wide recreational room. Huge black leather couches surround the biggest wall-mounted screen I’ve ever seen. Tons of Xbox paraphernalia litter the top of the low coffee table. A foosball table rests beside a pool table on the other side of the room, alongside a snazzy-looking stereo system.

  A bunch of framed photos occupies one wall, and I move closer to inspect them. I spot Kalvin and at least one of the triplets captured in action on the football field. Others show a helmeted figure atop a dirt bike on a mucky track. Kyler, I’d guess, judging by the covetous display in the garage last night. There are photos of a younger Keven shooting hoops on the basketball court and ones of Kaden playing baseball. Professional modeling shots of one of the triplets look out of place, but there’s no denying the boy was born to be in front of a camera. He has that moody pout down to an art form.

  I keep walking along another corridor lined with doors on either side. I sneak a peek into some of the rooms as I pass. One houses a private cinema complete with popcorn station and reclining chairs, and another grants entry to the indoor pool.

  The music grows louder as I approach the very last room. I open the door slowly and quietly and peer in. It’s a reasonably sized gym with a multitude of different equipment. Kyler’s back is facing me from his position on a cycling machine. His well-defined legs are thrusting so fast I can’t even follow the movement. His upper torso is bare, and every inch of his muscled back glistens with sweat. Well-developed arms grip the handlebars as he lifts his ass off the chair and cycles half-standing. My eyes are glued to his firm ass cheeks, and my face flares up. He is sex on legs, and it’s doing funny things to my insides.

  I may have only just met him, but I know his type.

  Kyler is trouble.

  Major trouble.

  So why the hell does that excite me so much?

  Why do I feel drawn to him instead of wanting to run a million miles away?

  I don’t need to answer my own question. I already know, but I’m not willing to face facts yet; to acknowledge that I’m in way more danger here than I imagined.

  Suppressing my concern, I quietly shut the door before he notices my presence.

  Chapter Six

  Back in my room, I get dressed and carefully blow-dry my hair, wondering what Mum would make of my new, bold style. It seems appropriate that I no longer look the same, because, on the inside, I can scarcely remember who I am anymore.

  Two of the triplets are already sitting at the table eating breakfast when I arrive in the kitchen. “Morning.”

  “Yo,” Keaton—I think—says, giving me a thumbs-up. The other one, whose name I can’t remember, mumbles a measly hello under his breath.

  The island unit is full to the brim with a variety of different foods. Taking a plate, I load up with scrambled eggs and bacon and pour myself a glass of cranberry juice.

  I slide onto the bench beside Keaton and tuck in. In between mouthfuls, I try to draw the boys into conversation. “So, is there some trick for telling you guys apart?”

  “He’s the one with the poisoned dick and the affliction for taking things that don’t belong to him,” Keaton supplies, jabbing his spoon pointedly in his brother’s direction.

  I almost choke on my eggs.

  “And he’s the one with his V-card still intact,” his brother retorts. His smirk is nasty as he points his finger at a rapidly reddening Keaton.

  I feel instantly defensive of him. “Wow, thanks for clarifying that. Super helpful. Maybe I’ll just buy name badges.” A tinge of sarcasm laces my tone.

  Keaton recovers, nudging me gently. “That’s Kent. He’s the shortest of the three of us.”

  “Dude!” Kent protests. “By one-freaking-half inch.”

  “It still counts. She’s looking for some way to tell us apart, and I’m explaining the most obvious way.”

  Kent pushes his empty plate away, leaning his elbows on the table. “Keaton is the joker around here, and Keanu is the tallest and the vainest. Exactly the way Mom likes it.”

  Both boys scowl.

  “What?” I glance from one to the other.

  “Keanu models for Mom.” Now I know which triplet was in the framed shots back in the games room. “That’s where he is now. At work.” Kent spits the word out like venom. “He thinks he’s this major celebrity ‘cause his face has hit the billboard in Times Square.”

  “She didn’t want you guys?” I’m incredulous, because all three of them are totally gorgeous and definitely model-worthy. Hell, the whole family is. Alex could probably save a fortune by lining her family up for photo shoots instead of hiring the latest supermodels.

  Kent drums his fingers off the table. “Oh, she did. But there’s no way I’m doing that pompous shit. Modeling’s for pussies.”

  “And there you have it.” Keaton drains his juice and slams the glass down on the table.

  “Keanu does what Keanu wants. Always has.” Kent shrugs indifferently. “We’re too far beneath him now.” He stands up. “I hate thinking of this shit. Puts me in a bad mood. Later, bitches.” He strides out of the room, leaving a sour note in his wake.

  “Don’t pay any attention to him. Kent’s angry at the entire universe.”

  I twist to face him, swinging one leg over the other side of the bench. “I thought triplets would have this amazing bond. You guys aren’t close?”

  “Nah, we are.” He looks reflective as he stares blankly out the window. “Not as much as we used to be.” He shrugs. “Guess we can’t stay joined at the hip forever.”

  “True, dat.”

  He grins. “I’ve always wanted to visit Ireland, and Dad has promised us so many times, but for one reason or another, it’s never happened. What’s it like?”

  “It’s great.” I pull my knees up to my chest, resting my feet on the bench. “It’s so beautiful and the people are so friendly and”—a raw lump sticks in my throat—“actually, could we talk about something else? Anything else?”

  His look softens. “You miss home.” I bob my head. “You don’t want to be here, do you?”

  “I …” I sigh. “It’s not that. It all happened so fast, and I’m still trying to get used to the idea. Plus, your brothers don’t seem overly enamored at my presence.”

  He leans in. “Try not to take it to heart. We don’t have an issue with you here per se; it’s just that Mom and Dad have been fussing over your arrival, and Mom even took a day off work. They don’t tend to do stuff like that.” A dark cloud passes over his face.

  “I’m sure that’s not true.” I remember how James’ face lit up when he was talking about his sons.

  Keaton shakes his head and a teasing smirk surfaces. “Look at me, hitting you with the heavy stuff already. We should go out and have some fun. There’s only two weeks left until school starts back so we should make the most of it. If you like?”

  Considering Keaton seems like the only one who actually wants to spend time with me, I’d be a fool to turn
him down. “’Kay. What did you have in mind?”

  He opens his mouth to answer when we’re distracted by a new arrival. Kyler strolls into the room, wearing black jeans, heavy-style boots, a plain black T-shirt, and an open black leather jacket. Add his attire to his unshaven face, and the dangerous glint in his eyes, and he looks like a total badass. Aaaannnddd … it’s like a shot of pure adrenaline straight to my hormones. An unfamiliar coil twists low as fire explodes in my lower belly.

  I was wrong last night. Kyler isn’t just trouble. He’s an apocalypse-level disaster waiting to happen. I need to find some fallout shelter to hide in. And quick.

  Kyler plonks a heavy-looking helmet on the island, and it lands with a loud thud. “Joker.” He nods his head at Keaton as he grabs a covered bowl of pasta from the fridge.

  I must be invisible.

  “You eat pasta for breakfast?” The words fly out of my mouth unfiltered.

  Kyler places the bowl in the microwave and switches it on. Slowly, he turns and faces me. He replies without even looking at me. “I’m in training.” The words sound begrudging as they leave his mouth, and that’s obviously all I’m getting.

  “Training for what?”

  Pouring a large glass of juice, he knocks it back in one go. His throat works hard as he swallows, and even that is sexy. He eyeballs me without replying. After a couple of seconds, I force myself to look away, pulling my legs back in under the table.

  The guy is an ignorant ass.

  “You heading to the track?” Keaton asks him.

  “Yep,” is Kyler’s succinct response.

  My brows knit together. Keaton notices, and he takes pity on me. “Ky is a serious dirt bike rider. He almost made pro last season. You’ll notice how dedicated he is when it comes to exercise and nutrition.”

  Kyler slams his bowl down on the table as he slides into place beside his brother. “Keaton.” With that one word, he silences his little bro.

  “Dad says you’re into swimming?” Keaton asks, deliberately changing the subject.

  Kyler keeps his head down, wolfing his pasta, as he deliberately avoids engaging in our conversation.

  “Yeah. At one point, I was serious about it as a sport, but”—I stop, well aware of the reasons why I gave up that ambition—“I guess I outgrew it,” I lie.

  Kyler lifts his chin and stares at me. I plant my poker face on and wait it out. Sure enough, he relinquishes his interest when he sees I’m giving nothing away. When he’s finished eating, he gets up, snatching a bottle of water before he leaves.

  I release the breath I’d been holding.

  “Friendly, isn’t he?” Keaton jokes.

  I only contemplate responding after his footsteps fade. “Is he always that intimidating?”

  He releases an amused laugh. “For as long as I can remember, he’s rocked that mean and moody vibe but not to the same extent. Addison did a real number on him. He’s shut himself off from pretty much everyone. Now he lives for motocross and that’s about it.”

  That’s the second time that girl has been mentioned. Judging by the comments, I’m guessing she’s an ex.

  As if on cue, the roar of an engine tickles my eardrums, and I watch as Kyler emerges from the garage at high speed. The bike swerves from side to side as he expertly maneuvers it down the driveway and out of sight.

  “Wanna head into town for a tour?” Keaton asks, his eyes lighting up.

  “Sure. That sounds great.”

  He jumps up, grinning. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten.”

  I start loading our dishes into the dishwasher as a petite woman with neat gray hair enters the kitchen. “You must be Faye?” She smiles warmly.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Greta. I work for the Kennedys. It’s very nice to meet you.”

  “Same here.”

  “Go on.” She shoos me away. “Unless you want my job?” Her teasing tone is kind.

  I’m walking through the lobby when the doorbell rings. I open the door without hesitation and clock the stunner standing on the doorstep. She perfectly represents my vision of the all-American sweetheart. Her golden locks cascade down her back in flawless straight lines. Her slim figure is clothed in a short white mini-dress that displays her tan skin to perfection. Although she’s slender, curves flow in and out of her body in all the right places. Her lips are plump as they pull back in a sweet smile. Brilliant white teeth beam at me.

  I hate her instantly.

  I can’t quite explain it.

  I can count on one hand the number of people I’ve taken an instant dislike to, and this girl is one of them.

  And it’s not because she’s my polar opposite—I don’t like the vibes she’s emitting. Oh, she might look like butter wouldn’t melt, but there’s a viper hidden underneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to strike.

  My guard goes up immediately.

  “Oh, you’re new,” she says flippantly. “I’m here for Kyler.”

  “He’s not here, Addison.” Keaton shows up, placing a protective arm around my shoulders. “And even if he was, you know he’d tell you to get lost.” Malice is evident in his tone.

  Addison’s alert green eyes assess the situation. “Getting it on with the help now, Keaton? That’s low. Even for you.”

  Keaton drills her with a contemptuous look. “This is our Irish cousin. She’s living with us now. Better get used to her face because she’s all anyone’s going to be talking about at Old Colonial.”

  Addison’s eyes narrow suspiciously, as she takes in my outfit. The viper starts to raise its ugly head. Internally, I bristle at the obvious look of disgust on her face, but outwardly, I’m Switzerland.

  “My bad. It’s unusual to see a Kennedy so”—she taps a manicured finger off her bottom lip—“casually dressed.”

  What a nasty bitch.

  “And it’s unusual to see you with your clothes on,” Keaton bites back. “So I guess that makes you even. Was there anything else?” He moves to close the door.

  “Tell Kyler I called.”

  “Bye, Addison.” Keaton slams the door in her face, and I laugh.

  “Holy crap.” I lean against the side of the door. “They’re all going to be like that, aren’t they?”

  His look is apologetic again. “Pretty much.”

  “Oh, joy. I can hardly wait.”

  “Watch out for that one—she’s lethal. Every pretty girl is competition, and judging by that reaction, you’re most definitely on her hit list.”

  “Who is she exactly?” I ask, as we walk the corridor toward the bedrooms.

  “She was the love of Ky’s life, until she ruined him.”

  Chapter Seven

  Max, the Kennedy’s chauffeur—yes, they have a full-time chauffeur—drives us into town. “So what exactly went down with Kyler and Addison?” I ask, as we sit side by side in the backseat. Purposely inspecting my nails, I’m trying my best to appear innocent.

  Keaton splutters. “No way.” He holds up his hands. “I’m not touching that.”

  I try a different approach. “It’s no biggie. I’m only trying to understand your brothers. Apart from you and Kalvin, the rest of them seem pretty closed off. Maybe if I knew what was going on with them …”

  “You’ll find out soon enough, and then you’ll wish you’d left well enough alone,” he replies cryptically.

  “What did … Kaden mean last night? He has some issue with your parents?” All the K names are confusing me, so I hope I’ve referenced the right cousin.

  “You caught that, huh?”

  “He wasn’t exactly subtle.”

  He angles his body and his knees brush against mine. “He’s been acting like that ever since he turned eighteen. Keven too. I swear, for a while, I actually thought they were in some secret ‘coming of age’ club”—he
gestures with his fingers—“you know, like Jacob and Co. in Twilight when they became members of the wolf pack and they couldn’t talk about it?”

  I burst out laughing. “You think your brothers are shape shifters?”

  He grins. “It’d be cool, right?”

  “Totally.” I laugh. Keaton is so easy to like. “But I doubt that’s in the realm of possibility, so what do you think it could be?”

  His smile withers up and dies. “I don’t know. Only that it’s nothing good. Things have been strained between them ever since. If the same thing happens when Ky turns eighteen next year, then I’m definitely reevaluating my wolf pack theories.”

  He loops his arm in mine as Max slows the car down. “Anyway, enough of my idiot brothers,” Keaton says. “Ready for your guided tour?”

  “Can’t wait.” A genuine smile plays across my lips as I beam at my cousin. I’m glad I’m developing a rapport with at least one of them.

  We get out in the middle of a busy town. It’s modern but quaint. Keaton is animated as he points places out to me. We walk around for hours, peppering each other with questions. Keaton knows everything about everyone, it seems, and he introduces me to people left and right. The names fly over my head. Some are friendly, others less so. The boys seem more enthusiastic than the girls, and that isn’t in anyway reassuring. Most of them go to Wellesley Old Colonial, the private school my cousins go to and the one I’ll also be attending.

  Spotting a bench, I plop down, and my aching legs offer up silent thanks. “I’m knackered,” I tell him as he drops down beside me.

  He laughs. “You’re what?”

  “Worn out, tired.” I grin back at him. “That’s a new one, huh?”

  “Yeah, and I’m most definitely storing it for future use.” He gives me a cheeky wink. “How about I treat you to lunch, and then we can head back?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  He opens the door to Legend’s Diner and Family Restaurant, stepping sideways to allow me to enter first. A pretty girl with shocking pink hair and warm brown eyes shows us to a booth by the window. Keaton says hi to a few school friends before sliding in beside me. I order a Cobb salad and iced tea and settle back in my seat.