Finding Kyler (The Kennedy Boys #1)

by Siobhan Davis

  It isn’t. My parents rarely argued, and we had a good relationship. It wasn’t often that I raised my voice or gave them reason to raise theirs with me. I shrug. “It’s not comparable. There was only three of us.”

  “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable here. To feel uncomfortable around me.”

  I didn’t. Not until last night. Kyler’s words are on the tip of my tongue. I want to ask James if the accusation is true, but I don’t think it’s my place.

  “I don’t. Everything’s happy out. Honestly. I’m fine.”

  He smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Good. That’s good.” He scrunches up his face. “I’d, ah, prefer if we didn’t mention this to Alex. I don’t like her worrying about anything while she’s attending to business. She has a huge amount of stress on her shoulders as it is.”

  I don’t dispute that. You can’t be CEO of one of the largest retail brands in the world without a shit-ton of pressure. But I wonder how much his request has to do with genuine concern for his wife and how much is about keeping Kyler’s accusation contained. I won’t lie for him. But right now it’s all speculation, and given my feelings toward Kyler aren’t all that charitable, I’m going to give James the benefit of the doubt over him.

  “She won’t hear about it from me.”

  The relief is evident on his face. “Thank you, Faye.”

  I hope I won’t come to regret it.

  “Sweetheart, there you are!” Alex says, enveloping me in her arms the instant I walk into the living area. “James tells me you found yourself a job?”

  “I have. I’ll be working at The Legacy Diner from now on.” I shuck out of her embrace, slightly uncomfortable with her over-familiarity.

  “That’s fantastic. You could teach my boys a thing or two about the importance of goals and values.”

  James crosses to the bar and pours two glasses of wine. He hands one to Alex, and she smiles up at him, but it seems a little brittle. “I worked in the family business from the time I was thirteen. Of course, I’ve tried to get the boys involved, but the only one who has shown any interest is Keanu. It’s one of the reasons why I introduced an allowance. I don’t want my kids thinking they can have everything on a whim. If they work for it, fine. But other than that, they have to budget for what they want.”

  I don’t see any of the boys wanting for anything. Clearly, we have different interpretations.

  She presses a bankcard into my hand. “Courtney should’ve given you this the other day.” A brief look of consternation flickers over her face. “Your allowance will be paid into that account every week. It is yours to do with as you please. If you have any extraordinary financial needs, please speak to myself or James, and we will discuss it on individual basis.”

  I push the card back into her hand. “Thank you for the gesture, but you don’t need to do that. I have savings my parents left me and income from my job.”

  She holds the card out to me. “Nonsense. You’re a part of this family now, Faye, and you will be treated the same way as the boys.”

  She’s preparing to dig her heels in. Mum’s mantra flits into my head. Pick your battles, Faye. I decide to let it go. “Okay, if you insist. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I hope the boys are looking after you?”

  I suppose it depends on the definition. I don’t want to land any of them in trouble, not even asshole Kyler, but I don’t want to lie to Alex either. “I’ve been spending lots of time with Keaton. He’s great.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. He’s such a good boy.” She puts her arm around my shoulder and steers me into the kitchen.

  Keanu shows me shots from his latest photo shoot while Alex heats up the soup Greta left for us. She places bowls on the table, leaning over to admire the frames. “Keanu is a natural in front of the camera.”

  “I can tell,” I admit. “Who’s the girl?” I point at an absolutely breathtaking girl with midnight-black hair. Her sultry brown eyes are locked on Keanu, and their chemistry pops off the page.

  “That’s Selena. She’s no one.” Keanu’s tone is clipped.

  Alex musses up his hair, and he scowls, instantly whipping his hand up to smooth it back in place. “That’s not very nice.”

  “She’s a work colleague,” he supplies, before turning his head to his mother. “Is that better?”

  “Keanu, please.” Alex sounds tired.

  “You started it,” he huffs immaturely, gathering the photos into a neat pile. “I’m going to hang with Keaton and Kent for a while before bed.”

  Alex and I eat our soup in silence after that.

  After I’ve rinsed my bowl, I make my goodbyes, grateful to escape to the sanctity of my bedroom.

  I’m dressed in pajamas, sitting up cross-legged on my bed, chatting with Jill and Rachel when Kalvin comes barging into my room. I place the phone on top of my bedside locker, and sigh. Sliding off the bed, I hop up and take his hand. “I want to show you something.” I drag him out of the room and pull the door shut behind me.

  “You see this wooden thingy here?” I point at the door. “It’s called a door. If it’s closed, it means the person inside wants privacy. In polite societies, people do this thing called knocking. It goes like this”—I rap my knuckles against the door—“and you only open the door when the person inside says you can come in. Comprende?”

  Kalvin laughs. “You’re too funny.”

  “Did I make my point?”

  “Loud and clear.” He grins, giving me a two-fingered salute.

  I open the door, but he grabs my wrist and pulls me back. “What now?”

  “No one said ‘come in.’”

  “Oh my God! You’re infuriating!” I slap him about the head, and he laughs again.

  We walk into my room, and he flings himself on the bed, sprawling spread-eagled across the length of it. “Make yourself at home, why don’t ya.”

  “Happy to,” he says with a saucy wink.

  I throw the pillow at him. “Was there a reason for your visit?”

  He slaps a hand across his bare chest. “Ouch. That hurt. Here I am trying to be a good cousin, and you shoot me down the minute I walk in.” He’s teasing, but there’s something serious at the back of it too.

  “Spill. What’s going on?” I perch on the edge of the bed.

  “Hey. Stop robbing all my lines!”

  “You do know it’s virtually impossible to have any kind of normal conversation with you?”

  “Normal is boring.”

  I shove his legs aside. “You are the furthest from boring that I know.”

  “Now I feel much better. You have redeemed yourself in spectacular fashion.” He leans back a little, giving me some space. “I did want to ask you something.” An earnest expression emerges on his face.

  “Okay.”

  “Did something go down at the diner tonight?”

  I groan. “What did you hear?”

  “That Addison was giving you a hard time.”

  Damn, the grapevine is thriving in Wellesley, something it has in common with my hometown. I doubt there is much that’ll get past my cousins.

  I pick at a loose thread on the duvet. “She was, but I handled it.”

  “She’s a total bitch, and you won’t be able to handle her on your own.”

  “I’ve dealt with her sort before.” My nostrils flare. “I can manage Addison.”

  “That’s cool. But I want you to come to me if you need help with her. Don’t go to Ky. He’s in way over his head.”

  The conversation I overheard last night comes to the forefront of my mind. “Okay. If she gets too much, I’ll let you know, but you’re not to involve yourself deliberately. I can fight my own battles, and if she thinks you are running around protecting me, she’ll only dig in her heels. I know her type. Let me manage this my way.
”

  He smacks a quick kiss on my cheek. “I can respect that.”

  A pleasant warmth sinks bone-deep. While I like being independent, I can’t deny it’s nice to have someone looking out for me and comforting to know I have someone I can call on if I need help.

  He springs off the bed like a panther in heat. He’s at the door when I call out to him. “Kalvin?”

  He grips the top of the doorframe as he spins around to face me, showcasing his sculpted chest and abs.

  “You are totally checking me out.” His grin is smug.

  “What do you expect when you parade around half-naked all the time?”

  “It’s too hot for clothes.” He sends me his best innocent expression.

  “A likely excuse.” Something tells me Kalvin knows exactly the effect he has on girls and that he enjoys feeding off that. “Stop distracting me. I want to ask you something, and don’t read anything into this.”

  He lowers his arms and leans against the side of the door. “Okay. Dying of curiosity here.”

  “Do you know a guy called Brad?”

  Kalvin has barely opened his mouth to speak when he’s shoved aside as Kyler motors into the room. Placing his hands on my shoulders, he pins me with a furious look. “Stay the hell away from Brad. And I’m not asking. That’s an order.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Screw you and the ship you rowed in on. And get your filthy hands off me.” I pull at his wrists, but his hold doesn’t budge.

  “Ky.” Kalvin walks across the room. “Let go. You’re hurting her.”

  He’s right. He is. His fingers are digging painfully into my skin, but I don’t think it’s intentional. He seems lost in an angry haze. “Who the hell do you think you are ordering me around like that?” I bellow.

  Releasing me, he steps back, locking his hands behind his head. The look on his face is downright scary, and I step around the bed, standing alongside Kalvin.

  “It’s for your own good.”

  I harrumph. “Yeah, right. Like last night was for my own good?”

  Kalvin’s gaze jumps between us. “What happened last night?”

  “Nothing,” Kyler and I answer in unison.

  “You should tell her,” Kalvin says to Kyler. “Then she’ll understand.”

  “I don’t have to explain myself.” He shoots Kalvin a filthy look.

  “The hell you don’t.” I plant my hands on my hips and lance him with my fiercest expression.

  “Just do what you’re told. Brad isn’t a good guy. Stay away from him.”

  I stare him down with a furious look of my own.

  “Please.”

  I shoot him an incredulous look. As if a little ‘please’ excuses his caveman-like behavior.

  He rams his fist into the wall in a temper, making a noticeable dent in the plaster. “To hell with this.” With that parting sentiment lingering in the air, he storms out of the room, leaving a maelstrom of confusion in his wake.

  “What is that dude’s problem?”

  Kalvin exhales loudly. “How long have you got?”

  “Know what? I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care. Nothing that comes out of that asshole’s mouth will make a blind bit of difference anyway. Brad is a million times nicer than Kyler.”

  “Oh, fuck me,” Kalvin exclaims. “This is a mess.” He shuts the door with his foot and then joins me on the bed. “I can’t tell you everything because it’s not my story to share, but you need to understand that Brad isn’t the guy you think he is.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  He tucks my hair behind my ears, surveying me with keen eyes. “You’re very pretty.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Get on with it.” My patience is resting somewhere between fleeting and nonexistent.

  “Addison was Ky’s first serious girlfriend, and he was craaaazy about her.”

  “I guess there’s no accounting for taste,” I spit out cynically.

  Kalvin continues, ignoring my little burst of jealousy. “They were an item for two years, and they were even talking about going to Harvard together. Brad was Ky’s best friend since kindergarten. He’s on the football team, and he’s into motocross too.”

  I have an inkling of where this is going.

  “Brad and Ky were as close as two dudes get, without coming out of the closet, if you catch my drift.”

  I roll my eyes and urge him to go on.

  “Brad was hooking up with Addison behind Ky’s back. It was going on for months before he found out. It shattered him. Overnight he lost his girl and his best friend. It’s been more than six months, and he’s still not himself.” He gets up. “Brad is bad news, and Ky is only looking out for you. We both are.”

  I nod. “I get it. Thanks for telling me.”

  After Kalvin has closed the door, a shrill squeal rips through the room. I pick up my phone, and Jill and Rachel are talking at ninety miles an hour, chattering over one another, and I can’t make any sense of their rambling. I’d completely forgotten they were still on the line—they heard everything.

  Rachel is audibly palpitating. “You should totally shag Kyler. He is seriously fit, and I’m not talking about Luke-level fit. We’re talking Zac Efron and Liam Hemsworth level of supreme deliciousness. He’s a total ride.”

  “He’s a total asshole, Rach.”

  “You don’t need to actually like him to screw him.”

  “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

  Jill, always the more diplomatic of the two, interjects. “What Rach means is you need to get back on that horse, and Kyler is the perfect steed to ride into a state of orgasmic bliss.”

  I flop back on the bed. “Not you, too! I’m not sleeping with Kyler. I’d rather sign up for invasive genital surgery than have sex with that tool. And have you forgotten? He’s my cousin.”

  Rachel splutters. “Cousin smousin! Who cares!”

  “I think it’s majorly frowned on over here. Trust me, there would be plenty of people with things to say if I got with him.”

  “Tell them to get lost!” Jill snarls. “We looked it up and it’s not illegal to date, or even marry, your cousin in the state of Massachusetts. So go for it girl!”

  “You did what?!” I shriek.

  “Take a chill pill, Faye. It took all of five seconds to find the info on my phone. And, you’re welcome.” She gives me a smug grin, and I wish I could reach into my phone and wipe it clear off her face.

  “Doesn’t matter anyway,” I mumble. “He hates my guts.”

  “Get over yourself,” Rach throws out. “He so doesn’t. We weren’t even in the room and I could sniff the sexual tension in the air.”

  “You got all that over the phone?” I’m skeptical even if my heart is ridiculously hopeful.

  “Yep,” they chime in unison.

  Stop! I implore them in my head. I don’t need to be given any green light where Kyler is concerned. I’m already obsessing over him far more than I should. And he’s a jerk.

  I. Don’t. Like. Jerks. No matter how good-looking they are.

  Hanging onto the cousin argument was one way of convincing myself not to go there. But now my friends have me considering all kinds of options.

  “I’m not discussing this anymore,” I huff, my finger hovering over the end call button. “Not until you two come to your senses and can actually offer constructive advice.”

  I say it but I don’t mean it.

  The fact is, I think they just have.

  I rise early the next morning and head to the indoor pool to do a few laps. I’m full of pent-up stress, thanks to Kyler and this mess that I’ve been unwittingly drawn into. My thoughts churn as I slice through the water. Addison has clearly put a target on my head, and I need to stay sharp if I’m to stand any chance of playing her at her own
game.

  But it’s Kyler keeping me awake at night.

  I know he’s attracted to me, too; the evidence was pressing against me two nights ago. I also know that he’s toying with Addison as some form of payback. What I don’t understand is where all the cruel comments and mean behavior is coming from? If my only sin is feeling an inexplicable draw to him, then how has that invoked such wrath?

  A part of me would like to believe he’s warning me off Brad out of some hidden protective nature. But it’s most likely his way of getting back at Brad for his betrayal. I’m a means to an end to Kyler. Nothing more.

  A light breeze raises goose bumps on my arms, and I stop swimming, looking over my shoulder at the door noticing it’s slightly ajar. Strange. Could’ve sworn I closed it when I came in.

  A small sound in the top corner of the room causes my heart rate to kick up exponentially. Daylight is only breaking outside and the lighting is dim in the room. I spot a shadowy figure sitting on the bench, quietly watching me. My heart rate accelerates to life-threatening proportions. I swim across the width of the pool, propping my arms up on the cool tiled floor.

  Kyler is resting his arms on his knees, and his hands are clasped together. His gaze slams into me, and sudden unease trickles down my spine.

  “What do you want?” I push wet, straggly bits of hair off my face as he continues to stare wordlessly at me. Every instinct roars at me to ignore him, to treat him in the same dismissive vein, but I refuse to sink to his level. I swim toward the ladder, conscious of his eyes following my every move. Drawing a brave breath, I pull myself up the steps and walk toward him with my chin held high. Water cascades down my body, soaking the ground underneath me.

  His darkening eyes latch onto me as I advance, and I may as well be naked. My nipples harden under the intensity of his attentive gaze, but I resist the urge to fold my arms over my chest. I stop in front of him, towering over him for a change. Sweat plasters his hair to his forehead, and judging by his attire, he must’ve just come from the gym. “Why are you here?”

  His eyes start at my feet and slowly cover every inch of my body as he takes his time checking me out. Although I’m outwardly shivering, I don’t feel even the tiniest bit cold. The look on his face sends hot tingles of desire all over my body, and I’m having a hard time disguising that fact. Fixing a knowing smirk on his face, he rises, stepping close to me until there’s barely any space separating us. Blood pumps ferociously through my veins, and my head is a cluttered, swirling ball of hormonal-induced confusion.