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To read about Connor’s brother, Cane, pick up The Exception. Available on Amazon and Audible and enrolled in Kindle Unlimited.
About the Author
USA Today Bestselling author Adriana Locke lives and breathes books. After years of slightly obsessive relationships with the flawed bad boys created by other authors, Adriana created her own.
She resides in the Midwest with her husband, sons, two dogs, two cats, and a bird. She spends a large amount of time playing with her kids, drinking coffee, and cooking. You can find her outside if the weather's nice and there's always a piece of candy in her pocket.
Besides cinnamon gummy bears, boxing, and random quotes, her next favorite thing is chatting with readers. She’d love to hear from you!
www.adrianalocke.com
To The Stars
Kennedy Ryan
Other Titles By Kennedy Ryan
The Bennett Series
When You Are Mine (Bennett 1)
Loving You Always (Bennett 2)
Be Mine Forever (Bennett 3)
Until I’m Yours (Bennett 4)
The Soul Series: My Soul to Keep (Soul 1)
Down to My Soul (Soul 2)
Refrain (Soul 3)
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One
Justice
“Justice, it’s a graduation, not a funeral.”
I barely process Mom’s words. My eyes keep darting across the field, searching the rows of graduates on the grass for the reason I returned to the small oceanside town where I grew up. I’m already sweating through the linen shirt tucked into my dark slacks, and the sun-heated metal of the hard bleachers beneath me only adds to my discomfort.
“Wipe that look off your face.” My mom squints against the bright sun overhead. “This is supposed to be a happy occasion.”
A happy occasion. A clusterfuck circus is what it may become, if I’m not careful. What possessed me to come back for my foster sister’s college graduation after five years away? Why did I accept the invitation mother Lillith extended? Of course, my parents were invited. They were Fi’s foster parents, and have remained in contact throughout Fiona’s stint at the small private college here in Merryn Bay, where she won a full volleyball scholarship. I was proud of her when Mom told me, but I didn’t reach out.
And neither did she.
When I left I told Fiona not to come after me, not to call, and she didn’t. It helped and hurt more than she will ever know. Helped me to focus on my studies and graduate almost a full year early from Stanford. Hurt because…
I can’t allow myself to think about that hurt; that gash her reckless act inflicted on my heart five years ago. How many times have I been tempted to call her; to beg her for anything? To settle for the scraps of platonic friendship she offered me. After all Fiona put me through, I still missed her. Still woke up too many mornings from star-studded dreams of us laughing and eating birthday cake on the balcony that connected our bedrooms from the time I was fourteen years old. I still felt guilty…fucking guilty…every time I slept with someone else.
I’m not hers. She was never mine.
And yet here I am. Dripping sweat, heart thudding heavy in my chest, palms wet, mouth dry. And all because today I’ll see Fiona.
“I wonder where Lillith is?” My mom glances at the diamond and platinum watch my father gave her for their twentieth wedding anniversary. “And your father, too.”
“Reporting for duty, searg.” Dad settles on the bench beside my mom, kissing her on the lips and lingering a second too long.
Those two, both lawyers, Dad the district attorney and my mom in private practice, could never get enough of two things. Their jobs and each other. Little wonder they barely noticed me once I could feed and clothe myself.
“Justice.” Dad reaches across to shake my hand, wearing his man-to-man face. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”
Read between the lines. I thought you’d keep dodging Fiona like you have for the last five years.
So I’d spent a couple of Christmases with friends when I knew Fiona and Lillith were invited for the holidays. Does that make me a coward?
Hell, yeah, it does.
“I wouldn’t miss Fiona’s college graduation for the world.” Though I missed her high school graduation. That was just too soon. I share a tight smile with my father across the small space.
“For sure.” Dad raises his dark blonde brows and looks back to Mom without further comment on that matter. “Still no word from Lillith?”
“No, and she’s been so excited about this.” Mom frowns and cranes her neck to search the bustling crowd. “The ceremony is starting soon. I’ve called her, but it keeps going to voice mail.”
I silently agree, knowing firsthand how excited Lillith was about graduation. She called to invite me. It actually wasn’t the first time we’d spoken. I’m pretty sure Lillith never mentioned our few phone calls to Fiona. Even with things fucked up between us, I had to know her mother was staying clean and had a good job. She always answered the few questions about Fiona I mustered the nerve to ask. I know Fiona made Dean’s List. That she was a star athlete, and will probably play pro volleyball after graduation. I know she’s had a few boyfriends, but no one serious.
Whatever the hell that means.
“The ceremony is starting.” Mom grimaces, silences her cell phone and slips it into her purse. “Hopefully, Lillith will get here in time to see Fiona walk.”
After five years, no phone calls, no emails, not even a friggin’ smoke signal – I’m going to see Fiona, and my body can’t figure out if it should run an hour in the other direction, or stay right here, baking in the sun and straining for a glimpse of her.
But I’ll see her.
Some part of me believes I’m here only because I need closure; to see her and know once and for all that she no longer holds my heart in that tight grip. But there’s a part of me afraid she always will.
“There she is.” Mom stands and pulls out her expensive camera, zooming until she smiles. “She’s so beautiful.”
Could there be a more obvious statement? I had hoped memory esteemed Fiona something so extraordinary that the reality of her would be less. Watching her down on the field, finding her place in line, dark hair streaming down her back as she laughs and scans the crowded bleachers for Lillith, and probably for my parents, and definitely not for me, I suspect she has actually become more.
Two
Fiona
I search the stands, gripping my diploma. I heard my name screamed from the stands when I crossed the stage, but couldn’t pick my cheerleaders out of the dense crowd. I smile at a few fellow graduates even as I dial Mama’s cell to see where she and the Kenners are seated.
Voice mail.
“Ugh. Mom, turn your ringer on.” I unzip my graduation gown. I followed Mama’s instructions and wore a sundress underneath the gown instead of the cut offs and tank top I would have preferred.
“For pictures.” Mama had smiled wistfully as she held a dress against me in the exclusive boutique. “You’ll need a slip.”
“A slip?” I had twisted my brows into the exasperated shape daughters reserve for their mothers. “Is this Little House On the Prairie? Do they even sell slips anymore?”
Mama had reached into a pile of silky things behind her and held up a lilac-colored full slip.
“Grams didn’t make you wear slips?” she asked, amusement creasing her thin face.
Grams, who raised me when my mother was lost in her addiction, would have been horrified to see my silhouette in the sun.
“Yeah, she did, but Mama, this dress
is too much anyway.” I had frowned at the steep price on the tag.
“It’ll be worth it. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to see this day, Fi. But I’m out. I’m clean, and I get to see my little girl graduate from college.” Mama’s smile had wobbled a little. She’d blinked a few times before turning to study a jewelry display. “Mama would’ve been so proud of you.”
Grams would have been just as proud of my mother for clawing her way out of addiction, getting back on her feet, and taking responsibility for all the damage her behavior had done.
Celebrate every step forward. Only look back when there’s something there to learn.
Grams’ wise words, have guided me as much as anything or anyone else. Grams has been gone for more than half my life now, but her influence still hovers over me like a guardian angel. When she died while Mama was serving her time, I ended up with the Kenners, the lottery of foster homes.
My cell phone vibrates in my hand. My foster mother Carolyn Kenner’s face grins back at me from the screen.
“Hi, Carolyn.” My heart lifts an inch. Despite the disaster I made of things with their son Justice, I’ve remained close to his parents. They helped my mother negotiate post-prison life. “Where are you guys?”
“I see you!” Carolyn laughs from the other end of the line. “Look to your left. I’m waving.”
I look to the left, and sure enough, Carolyn is there, waving and sporting a huge grin. I start walking toward her, but almost stumble when I see the man behind Carolyn.
And he is a man.
Nearly nothing of the boy my foster brother used to be remains. From this distance, everything about Justice seems harder and larger. Looming and dominant. In the years we’ve been apart, my beautiful boy has grown into this Norse deity who eclipses everything around him, drawing all the light into his eyes, into the near-silver hair, into every glowing inch of him.
I stop moving. There must be glue in the grass keeping my feet still and stuck. The breath labors its way out of my lungs. Blood zips through my veins, fluent and roaring as a pulse in my ears. I nearly sway under the impact of him after so long.
I take a step forward, tentative like a baby’s first. I’m anything but a baby, though. My response to him is a woman’s. After all this time, after what I did to push Justice away, it stings to realize I might want him with the same unsated urgency that gnawed through my system the day he left.
He isn’t my brother. He isn’t my lover. Surely after all this time, we aren’t friends. He’s a gorgeous enigma. I have no idea who this man is.
“Fiona, congratulations!” Carolyn crosses the last few steps separating us, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me into a tight hug. “We’re so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Carolyn,” I murmur. “Glad you could make it.”
I step back and make myself focus on her bright smile. Though I’ve never seen Joseph Kenner, Justices’ father, demonstrative with anyone but the wife he adores, he slips one arm around me and kisses my cheek.
“Good job, Fiona,” he says.
“Thank you, Mr. Kenner.”
I’ve never shed the formality of his last name. He is so guarded with most people. I always loved to see how Carolyn unlocks him; how her presence sloughs the tension from his shoulders. I used to do that for Justice, but not anymore. If anything, since I joined them, his features have tightened into a mask I can’t look at for more than a second or two.
A quiet swells between us until its thickness leaves me almost choking. I pull the breath through my nose and push it out over the throb of my lips. I try to forget the last time we were alone, but my lips remember. My body remembers, and the memory of those rushed, steamy kisses in a dark corridor coil around my stomach. Literally tying my stomach into knots.
“Good to see you again, Fiona.” Justice’s voice wraps around me like cashmere, making me feel safe and hot in the afternoon sun.
“Um, well. I…yeah.”
This isn’t going well.
The diploma in my hand proves I’m a college graduate, but I can’t string together a coherent sentence.
Justice quirks one dark blonde brow at my gibberish-level communication. It is so something the old Justice would do; so exactly how he would have subtly mocked me, that my shoulders drop an inch. My stomach loosens loop by loop and my breath pushes easily up my throat.
“It’s good to see you, too.” I allow my lips to curve with the pleasure of being this close to him again. “Really good.”
He smiles back, wide enough for a flash of teeth. He pushes his hands down into his pockets. His shoulders hunch forward a bit, hinting at the Justice who teased me mercilessly and whose pranks booby trapped my adolescence.
“Have you heard from Lillith?” Carolyn asks.
“I got her voice mail every time I tried her.” I share a quick frown with Carolyn before she smooths hers away.
“I’m sure she’s fine.” Carolyn’s face softens into a fond smile. “God love her, but she’s late for everything. Remember the basketball game?”
“You’re right.” I relax and allow a smile. “We missed the whole first half.”
“I’m sure she’s fine.” Carolyn squeezes my hand, a gesture that only worries me more because it’s designed to reassure. “Could be a flat tire and she didn’t want to make anyone miss graduation. Who knows? Let’s go to the apartment to check on her.”
“Care, we have lunch with the mayor.” Mr. Kenner glances at his watch again. “In twenty minutes. We need to discuss that new furlough program. This is all the time he has for me this week.”
“Oh, yeah. Forgot about that.” Frustration and worry war on Carolyn’s face before her expression lightens “Well, Justice can take Fiona to check on Lillith.”
“Oh, no.” My tongue tangles with my teeth trying to get the words out. “I couldn’t-you don’t have to…he won’t—”
“It’s fine.” Justice cuts in, looking down at the grass and then back to me. “I drove down from Boston.”
“Boston?”
“Yeah, that’s where they keep Harvard now.”
I look into the wicked glint of his eyes that are the same unbelievable blue they’ve always been.
“Smart ass.” I serve the insult and wait for his return.
“Takes one to know one.”
“Wow, what’s next? See ya later, alligator? After ‘while crocodile?”
We both laugh, eyes primed with everything we shared before and missed the last five years. For a second, it feels like riding a bike. Something easy that you never forget. Then he glances at my lips, his eyes heating up a few degrees before they return to mine. Now it feels like a roller coaster. A risky ride that suspends you in the air, then drops your stomach out and jerks you around, leaving me euphoric and slightly nauseous.
“K, guys. We’re gonna go meet the mayor.” Carolyn’s lips tip at one corner. “Tell Lillith I hate she missed the graduation, but I got some great shots.”
“Yeah, I guess we should get going.” Justice grabs the keys from his pocket. I look at the keys, noting the Range Rover logo.
“You still have the Wrangler?” I ask.
“I sold it when I graduated from Stanford.” He holds the keys up. “A little graduation gift to myself.”
I loved that Wrangler. I got my driver’s license senior year with that car. Justice took the GTO to Stanford his freshman year, and driving the Wrangler he’d left behind had made me feel closer to him somehow that first year. I used to know everything about him, and suddenly, I don’t even know what car he drives.
“Ready, Fi?”
Am I ready to be alone with Justice after all this time?
Probably not. Definitely not. No.
“Sure.”
Three
Justice
We’ve run out of things to say.
We’re twenty minutes into a thirty-minute drive, when I realize Fiona and I have said all the things people say to catch up. The banal. The mundane. I used what’s-bee
n-happening-in-your world chatter to tell Fiona I graduated with honors from Stanford, made it through first year of Harvard law and start my second in the fall.
Fiona was uncharacteristically succinct about the last five years. College. Volleyball. Professional teams giving her looks. Nothing her mother hadn’t already told me. CliffsNotes, when I want the unabridged, footnoted version of her life since the last time I saw her.
I want to know if she ever acquired a taste for olives.
I want to know the last practical joke she pulled.
I want to know how she got the scar just above her eyebrow so tiny only someone who’d memorized the exotic canvas of her face would notice.
I want to know if that bastard jock Barkley was just her first, or the first of many.
I want to know if she missed me.
As much as I missed her.
I white-knuckle the steering wheel, trapping all the tension between my fingers. In a glance, I absorb Fiona sitting beside me. Statue-tense. Sky blue graduation gown thrown across her lap. Full bottom lip pulled between her teeth.
Shiny black hair, a gift from her Native American father, tumbles over one shoulder. Long slim fingers toy with the star charm bracelet I gave her.
The star charm bracelet I gave her?
“You still wear it.” I pitch my voice low and steady. Much steadier than the stupid heartbeat accelerating at the sight of my gift on her wrist, a reminder of all the nights we studied the stars through a telescope on the balcony connecting our bedrooms.
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