“Hang on here a second,” I hiss, anger starting to fuel my veins. “I have never given you any reason to believe I was interested in more than friendship. Have I not specifically said on more than one occasion that that’s all I was interested in?”
“If I remember correctly, you said you had no time for a relationship,” he snaps back. “But my bad, I should have realized you just meant with me.”
I spy Leanne approaching with our food, so I seal my mouth shut until after she has departed. “Why are we even having this argument?” I stab a piece of salad with my fork. “Weren’t you the one who said you wouldn’t ever betray Ky again, or do you have an exclusive short-term memory?”
He flinches, carefully placing his fork down on his plate. “Maybe I’m not the one doing the betraying this time.”
An icy hand squeezes my heart and my face pales. “What are you insinuating?”
Superfast, he reaches over the table and takes my hand before I can object. “Fuck. I shouldn’t have said that, and I’m not insinuating anything. I’m being a total ass. I’m so sorry, Faye.”
I pull my hand out of his. “I’m struggling to understand what’s going on here, Brad, and, quite frankly, I wished I hadn’t broached the subject at all. I was having fun until we came here. Now, I don’t even feel like eating.” I push my plate away.
He looks contrite. “This is all my fault. Forget I said anything. We’re friends, and I’m really glad about that fact. I’ll tone down the PDAs, it’s no problem.”
I stare out the window, feeling hurt, confused, and vulnerable. Brad is clearly backtracking, and I’d like to know why.
The atmosphere is still strained in the car on the journey back to the house. Day has given way to night, and I look up at the eerie, empty sky, wondering if it’s some form of warning. Brad parks in a vacant spot in the garage, and I move to get out, but he stops me, holding my elbow in his strong grip. “Wait up, please.”
I twist around in my seat. “I hurt you, and I’m sorry about that. I’m in a weird mood today is all. It’s been an emotional day, and some of that subconsciously transferred over. Please say you forgive me. I value your friendship, and I don’t want to lose it, or you.”
I’m not quite sure if I’m buying that excuse. Rose is right—it’s best to be upfront about this, so I say what I need to say. “Do you have feelings for me? Because if you do, then we need to call the whole fake boyfriend thing off.”
He lifts his eyes to the ceiling, and his chest heaves. The air is suddenly frigid with tension. Sighing, he lowers his eyes and focuses on me. “I think I got a little carried away with the role playing, and I could imagine us together, but it wasn’t real. You’re Ky’s girl. I get that.” He looks down at his lap. “I don’t have those kinds of feelings for you.”
“Oh. Okay. Good.” And this is a good thing, so why do I feel a little disappointed? Am I that shallow? I shake it off before I give myself emotional whiplash, offering him my best smile. “How about we agree that if the arrangement isn’t working for one of us, we’ll be honest with the other and immediately call it off?”
He gives me a tentative smile in return. “Sounds like a plan.”
“So, we’re good?”
“We’re good.”
We remove some of the boxes from the boot, and I show Brad the way to his new room. On our way back, I knock on Ky’s door. “Brad’s here!” I call out. “And we could use a hand with these boxes.”
The door slowly opens, but my smile withers up and dies when I catch one look at Ky’s cold, impassive face. It’s a look I’m well familiar with but one I haven’t seen in a while. “What’s gotten into you?” Anxiety explodes in my gut.
“I don’t know what you mean.” He speaks to me while staring at Brad over my shoulder. I flit around, startled to see a cold glare on Brad’s face. “What is going on?”
“Nothing.” Ky purses his lips as he pulls the door shut. “What do you need help with?”
We walk in absolute silence back to the garage and unload the rest of Brad’s things. My level of anxiety is off the charts. Something is up with him, and I don’t understand what’s happened between this morning and now to cause him to withdraw behind his protective mask. I stop abruptly as a thought occurs to me. “Who was here earlier?”
“No one.” Ky is too quick to reply. Brad sends him a dirty look, and that tells me all I need to know. Nausea swims up my throat.
I drop my box on the floor. “I saw her car, Ky. What did she want?”
“Nothing.”
I stalk toward him, getting right up in his face. “Don’t lie to me. What did she say this time?”
“I told you, it’s nothing,” he says through gritted teeth, taking a step back from me.
“You’re lying.” Brad’s furious tone spears him.
“Don’t pretend like you know me, because you don’t,” he snarls, and I shrink back from the venom in his voice.
“Why are you acting like this?” I reach for him, but he steps sideways, out of my grasp.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shrugs, feigning indifference. “And you need to get yourself in check. I don’t have time for this bullshit.”
My stomach drops with fear and loathing. He is not going to treat me like this. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not letting you do this to me again.”
He looks through me, as if I’m invisible. How can he say what he said to me this morning and now turn into the mean, moody version of himself from before? I scrunch handfuls of my hair. “Oh my God. She’s gotten to you, hasn’t see? What is the crazy bitch saying now? What’s her game plan this time?”
He shakes his head, as if I’m insane. “Faye. You’re the one acting crazy right now.”
“Don’t. Don’t do that. You can try and shut me out all you like, but I’ll still know who’s behind it.” Frustration and anger are not a good combination. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him what Rose and I observed last night at Addison’s house, but I’m afraid to own up to it because with the weird mood he’s in, who knows how he’ll react. I don’t want to add further fuel on the fire.
“Why do women big-deal everything? Like seriously!” He rolls his eyes at Brad in a deliberate move. “You’ve the right idea staying single. Trust me, life is far less complicated.”
He sneers, and I see red. If I don’t get out of here now, I’m liable to do or say something I’ll regret. I face Brad. “I’m going to turn in for the night, unless you need a hand with unpacking?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks for everything today.” His eyes are kind and I’m glad at least one of them is acting normal again.
“No problem. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I ignore Ky as I slip around them, storming toward my room as fast as my legs will carry me.
I lie awake in bed until way past midnight, fervently hoping Ky is going make an appearance at any moment to explain his behavior. But as the clock chimes two, I have no choice but to face facts.
He isn’t coming.
And it feels ominous.
Like the winds are changing, and destiny is altering.
His absence is more than telling.
It has a finality to it that scares me half to death.
Chapter Twelve
If I managed to snatch two solid hours of sleep last night, I’d say I was lucky. It took considerable effort to haul myself out of bed this morning, and now I’m running late. It doesn’t bode well for the rest of the day. At least it’s Friday.
Brad and Ky are engaged in a heated argument when I reach the kitchen, and it doesn’t take much imagination to figure out what or whom they are arguing about. They cease talking the minute they spot me. “Don’t stop on my account,” I snark, reaching down to remove a bowl from the press.
“Here.” Keaton says, getting up fr
om the table with a plate in hand. “I made pancakes earlier. Saved you some.” He slides the plate across the island to me.
“Hhm,” I say, eyeing the mess littered across the sink, the stove, and the countertop. “I can see that. Were you planning on fixing that”—I point in the general direction of the massacre—“or leaving it for the cleaning fairy to take care of?”
His face drops and I feel like the biggest bitch on the planet. “Ignore me. I didn’t get much sleep last night, and I’m cranky as hell. Thanks for making breakfast, and don’t worry about that. I’ll tidy it after school.” His face brightens. Thank fuck. “And thanks for saving me some. I’m starved.” I take a big bite and groan. “God, that’s good. We might make a chef out of you yet!” He beams at me and all is right with the world again. I squint at the clock. “You better make a move unless you want to be late.” I shove him with my hip. “Go on, get your ass in gear!”
He musses up my hair as he races past me, laughing. Sensing eyes on me, I look up. Brad and Ky are both staring at me as if I’ve grown two horns out the top of my head. Ignoring them, I take my plate to the table and sit down across from Kent. He’s toying with the remnants of his breakfast, looking bored, as usual. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready too?” I ask, in between mouthfuls.
“Mind your own business,” he snipes, glaring at me. If I didn’t know him, I’d think he hated me. But Kent hates everyone and everything so I’m nothing special.
“Watch your mouth,” Ky growls. “And Faye is right. Get out of here. The last thing Mom needs is tardy reports from O.C.”
Kent typically flips him the bird. “Watch that.”
Ky flies across the room, yanking Kent off the bench by his shoulders. “Listen up, you little shit. You are going to school, and you are going right now if I have to drag you there myself.” Kent shoves Ky with force. “Don’t push me, Kent. I’m warning you.” Kent clearly has a death wish because he charges at Ky, mouthing a stream of obscenities as he tries to grab his brother in a headlock. Brad wades in, and between them, they manage to hold Kent’s arms behind his back. He thrashes about, cursing his head off and shouting in frustration.
“What is going on in here? I could hear you all the way from my bedroom.” Alex saunters into the room in her new favorite outfit—sweats and a disheveled shirt—with the obligatory glass of wine in hand. She obviously isn’t planning on going into the office again today.
“Kent is refusing to go to school,” Ky confirms.
Alex walks toward her son with a sigh. “You don’t want to go to school, sweetie?” She reaches out, touching his face.
Kent slaps her hand away. “No, and stop touching me.”
Alex waves her hands flippantly in the air. “Leave him be. If he doesn’t want to go to school, he doesn’t have to.” Her words are slightly slurred, and wine sloshes out of the glass onto the floor.
“Mom, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Kent needs the discipline of school,” Ky says.
Kent scoffs. “Would you listen to yourself? You sound like you’re fucking middle-aged. I’ll kill myself if I end up like you.”
“I’m not going to school either,” Kal says, and we all turn around to look at him. He is stretched lengthways along the bench with his socked feet crossed at the ankles.
Alex waggles her finger at him as she walks toward him. “Yes, you are.”
He sits bolt upright. “What? Why is Kent allowed to stay home for no reason when I have a really good reason to never step foot in that building again?”
“Sweetie.” Alex cocks her head to the side. “That’s exactly why you need to go. You need to show this town that you’ve done nothing wrong. That you are falsely accused. You need to go about your business as you always have done. Show them nothing has changed and you are not going to bow down to lies and idle gossip. You’re a Kennedy, for God’s sake! Act like one! You are better than all of them!” Her voice elevates until she’s practically screaming that last part.
“It’s not fair and you are seriously losing your mind!” Kal seethes, brushing past his mother with an unhappy pout on his face.
I peek at Brad and he looks like he wishes he was anywhere but here. I can relate. I have zero tolerance for the drama-rama this morning, and I want out of here. “We should make tracks before we’re late,” I say, offering Brad an out.
He latches onto it with both hands. “Definitely. Let’s go.”
“Have a lovely day, sweetie,” Alex purrs, kissing the top of my head. “And you too, darling. Sorry I wasn’t around to greet you last night, but you are most welcome. You’re practically family, Brad, so make yourself at home.” She yanks him into an embrace so fast that he stumbles, landing face first in her chest. It’s almost comical except that it’s far too sad to be in any way remotely funny.
Ky pulls Brad back, pinning him with an apologetic look. “Go. Get Faye out of here.”
We walk in silence to the lobby, grabbing our bags and coats and heading out the back door to the garage.
“So,” I say, securing my seat belt around my waist. “Happy you moved in?”
“Glad you didn’t sugarcoat anything on my behalf,” he drawls in a sarcastic tone.
I scan the backseat. “Is there room for two back there?” It’s only after the words have slipped out that I realize how they could be misconstrued. I attempt to backpedal furiously. “Shit! Didn’t mean that to come out how it sounded.”
A wry smile tugs up the corners of his mouth. “I know what you meant, and I heard your message loud and clear last night.”
All semblance of lightness evaporates, and I curse myself for putting my big fat mouth in it. That’s what happens with minimal sleep. My brain plays rooky and I end up spouting the most ridiculous crap.
“Can we not mention last night ever again?” I plead.
He takes a quick sideways look at me. “Which part?”
“All of it?”
“Sure.”
As Brad maneuvers us out of the garage, Max glides behind us in the Merc with the ever-faithful Lenny riding shotgun.
“You knew, didn’t you?” I ask Brad without facing him. I stare glumly out the front window, lifting my feet up onto the dash. “You saw her car, and you knew she was here.”
He sighs. “Yeah. Sorry I wasn’t honest about that, but I didn’t want to see you upset.”
“It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.” I chew on the tip of one fingernail. “Did he tell you why she was here?”
He huffs out a laugh. “You’re kidding, right? As if he’d tell me anything about Addison.”
“Is that what you two were arguing about?”
“Partly.” He vigorously rubs his temple.
I’m tempted to probe further, but what’s the point? Ky has always gone into lockdown mode when it’s anything to do with Addison, and I doubt he’s confided in Brad of all people, even if they are besties. A painful ache radiates in my chest, and I can’t dispel the sense of futility I feel. “She’s playing some new game.”
“Most likely,” Brad agrees.
“And Ky is incapable of beating her at it, so that means we need to intervene.” I duck my head as we approach the gate and wait for Brad to navigate past the media pests and head out onto the open road before resuming our conversation. “I have a few ideas. Are you in or out?”
“Is this legal?” He quirks a brow.
“Mostly.”
He rolls his eyes. “Okay. Let’s hear it.”
I fill him in on the events of Wednesday night and what Rose and I overheard at Addison’s house. “If we discover her secret, we can use that to get her to lay off Ky. I bet Keven can dig into her background for us. He’s already investigating the email Ky received, and I’d like to find out if he has an update. Are you up for a road trip to Harvard tomorrow?”
“I only had loose plans to go to the
track with Ky. Count me in. Let’s do this.”
I have a few almost run-ins with Peyton during the school day, and I’m in no mood to tolerate Her Highness. Brad runs intervention, and I know I must be testing his patience to the limit, but I’m in a real foul mood today, and woe betide anyone who crosses me.
Alex is passed out on the couch when we get back home after school is out, an empty wine bottle and glass tossed on the floor at her feet. Brad shakes his head sadly as he takes a blanket off the other couch and fits it over her. I remove the empty bottle and glass and bring it into the kitchen. Together, we clean up the mess left from breakfast before I go to my room to change into my swimsuit. I haven’t swum any day this week, and I need to rectify that. Practice sessions start after school on Monday, and I don’t want to fall behind.
It’s too cold to use the outdoor pool, so I head to the indoor one and dive in. I’ve only swum ten lengths when the door creaks open and Brad steps into the room. I swim up to the edge of the pull, draping my arms over the tiled floor.
“Do you mind if I join you?” he asks.
“Of course not. There’s more than enough room.”
He tugs his T-shirt up over his head and dumps it and a towel on a bench in the corner. Muscles flex and roll in his chiseled abs as he strides toward the pool, and I try not to ogle, but it’s damn hard. Brad is well fit, easily in Ky’s league, and he’d definitely give him a run for his money in the semi-naked hotness stakes. Pulling my goggles on, I start into a butterfly stroke as Brad dives into the pool in one flawless move. We soar up and down the lanes in unspoken competition, and my muscles burn with the effort involved in keeping up with him. Brad’s an expert swimmer, not that I’m altogether surprised. He grew up with a pool in his backyard and the beach close enough at hand.
A large yawn escapes my mouth, and I slow to a gentle crawl, swimming to the edge of the pool and leaning back. “Can’t hack the pace, beautiful?” Brad teases, swimming up alongside me.
“I’m knackered.” He chuckles. “And I have to be at work soon, so I think I’ll grab a power nap before then.” I hoist my weary body out of the pool and clamber to my feet. Brad follows behind me.
Losing Kyler (The Kennedy Boys Book 2) Page 11
