Saving Brad (The Kennedy Boys Book 5)
Page 2
I pull her up onto my lap, bracing one arm against the headrest as I thrust my hips up to meet hers. I kiss her passionately, greedily, focusing one hundred percent on the hot blonde who is currently giving me the ride of my life. We went at it half the night, and I must’ve fallen asleep before I could kick her out. Not that I’m complaining. A morning quickie is a rare treat. My head dips, and I suck her nipple into my mouth. She screams my name out at the exact same moment the door to my bedroom swings opens.
“Ho. Lee. Crap!” a familiar voice shrieks, and I rip the blonde off me faster than a bloodsucking leech. “Shit, sorry, Brad. I didn’t know you had company.” Faye shields her face with her hand, quickly looking away. Her cheeks have turned bright red. You’d swear she was some virginal innocent by her obvious embarrassed expression. Except I share this apartment with her boyfriend, and I’ve heard them plenty of times in the throes of sex. Judging from the sounds emitting from his bedroom, and the way Ky’s headboard bangs wildly against the wall, I’d say Faye is used to being well and truly fucked.
And now my mind has totally gone there. Great, just what I need. My dick starts hardening again, and I reach down, covering the evidence with my hands. The blonde grabs the sheet up under her chin, and her eyes beseech me to handle the situation.
“Faye, babe,” Ky says, approaching from behind her. The blonde’s eyes narrow suspiciously. Ky peers into the room, roaring with laughter as his hands snake around Faye’s waist. He leans his chin on her shoulder. “You turned voyeur or something?”
She slaps his arm. “I didn’t know he had someone in here.”
“Eh, hello.” I gesture toward Callie. “Do you mind getting the hell out of my room.”
“Of course, bro.” Ky starts backing Faye out into the narrow corridor. “But make it snappy. Rachel’s flight lands at eleven, and we want to get there early in case it arrives ahead of schedule.”
Dammit. I had totally forgotten today was the day. Could this day get any worse? And why the hell did I agree to go with them? I snort. I know why. Because Faye turned the charm on, and I relented straightaway. I’m wrapped around her finger every bit as much as Ky is.
They close the door, and I return my attention to Callie, my cock straining with renewed arousal. “Where are you going?” I reach for her as she swings her legs out the side of the bed.
“Home.”
I pat the mattress. “Come back to bed. We have enough time to finish.”
She plants her hands on her hips, standing before me stark naked, and damn, if it isn’t hot as hell. She has a rocking body, and she isn’t afraid to show it off. “I’m no longer in the mood.”
I stand up, moving toward her with intent. “I can fix that in two seconds.”
She thrusts out a palm, slamming into my chest and holding me at arm’s length. She looks down at my hard erection. “I’ll bet you could, but I’m not some dumb bimbo.” She points at my dick. “That’s not for me. That’s for her.” She spits the word out like it’s poison.
“Ah come on, don’t be like that.” I make an attempt to pull her into me, but she’s having none of it.
“I didn’t want to believe everything that’s said about you because I’ve seen how you are in class, and I couldn’t reconcile that person with the rumors. But it turns out the rumors are true. You’re a total douche, Brad, and nothing would entice me between the sheets with you again. Now, let me go.”
I lift my hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Fine. Your loss.” Guess I’ll have to rub one out in the shower now.
She angrily pulls her clothes on as I grab a pair of sweatpants off the floor and tug them on. Yanking the door open, she stomps into the living area and I rush out after her. She’s glaring at Faye, and Faye stares at me in confusion. “Call me some time,” she says to Ky, roaming his body with hungry eyes. “I have a feeling you’ll be in need of new female company soon.” Casting another glare at Faye, she storms out of the apartment leaving a mess in her wake.
“What the hell is that chick’s problem?” Faye asks Ky, her fists clenched into balls of fury at her side. “What a bitch! She hit on you right in front of me.” A red flush creeps up her neck, and her eyes blaze with unconcealed anger.
“Babe.” Ky draws her into his arms. “Ignore her. She’s obviously sore because you interrupted, and clearly, she didn’t get her rocks off.” He levels an amused look my way.
“Neither of us did,” I growl. “Thanks for that by the way.” The amused expression drops off Ky’s face, and his uber-protective mode cranks up a notch. He’s getting ready to chew me out. Not that he needs to. Faye is more than capable of standing her ground, but Ky loves to go all alpha-protector. “Sorry,” I add quickly, before he can lay into me. “It’s not your fault I lost track of time.”
“I was going to say I’m sorry for ruining your fun, but after the way that bitch acted, I think I’ve just done you a massive favor, Brad,” Faye proclaims.
Well, fuck me. Can my warped life get any more warped?
“Why did Rachel go back to Ireland anyway?” I ask from the backseat of Ky’s Range Rover en route to Logan Airport.
“She had to pack up the rest of her stuff, and her parents wanted to talk to her about something,” Faye confirms, shifting around in the passenger seat so she’s facing me.
“And she’s really moving here for good?” I look absently out the window as Ky takes the exit for the airport.
“Yep.” Faye can’t contain her excitement. “It’s going to be so cool having her here. And the apartment she bought for us to share is incredible. It’s in a fabulous building only minutes’ walk from Harvard. She got the best unit on the top floor, and we have our own rooms with walk-in wardrobes and en suite bathrooms and our own outside decked area. And they have this amazing communal rooftop deck too, parking, Wi-Fi, twenty-four-hour concierge, and even a gym,” she gushes, sighing dreamily. “It sure beats living in the freshman dorms.”
“Breathe, babe.” Ky pins her with an amused look. “And you wanted to live in the dorms last year.”
She twists around in her seat, the leather making a squelching sound in the process. “I know, and I’m glad I experienced it, but I’m happy to be moving out and moving in with someone I know and trust.”
Ky squeezes her thigh. “Me too, and I’m glad you’re away from Becca. That girl gave me the creeps.”
Faye’s roomie last year took more than a little liking to Ky. It didn’t seem to matter that he was besotted with his girlfriend—she pestered him all of fall semester to the point of harassment. Ky threatened to report her and organized a transfer for Faye to a single dorm, and, thankfully, that was the end of her interference. But it added a lot of unnecessary drama to our freshman year.
Faye shudders. “I know. That girl was genuinely scary.”
“It’s behind us now.” Ky looks at her so adoringly—in what is his usual way—and a pang of envy has a vise-grip on my heart. It’s so difficult to be around them, and that whole situation with Becca meant Faye spent an inordinate amount of time in our apartment those first few months, which only added to my torture. I enjoyed a lot of hookups and one-night stands in the early Harvard days. Anything to not have to return home and listen to my friend banging the hell out of the girl I love.
While Faye and Ky returned to Wellesley for summer break, I chose to stay in our apartment, needing the headspace. One of the guys from the football team moved in with me, and we spent the summer partying up a storm, only toning things down the last few weeks once early practice sessions started up. Coach takes a dim view of excessive partying, and I’ve been privy to more than a few lectures over the course of the last year. Still, it’s hard for him to find fault when I’m keeping good grades and playing well.
Faye stretches over the console to kiss Ky, and bile swims up my throat.
Closing my eyes, I rest my head against the wind
ow, praying to God to release me from this hell.
“I’ve a good feeling about this year. Our sophomore year is going to be great. For all of us,” Faye says softly. My eyes fly open, just catching the hopeful look she sends my way. I pray she’s right, because the prospect of spending another year locked in this awkward love triangle doesn’t bear thinking about. I don’t think I’ll survive another year of the same. There is only so much a guy can take before he cracks.
Faye returns Ky’s adoring gaze, reaching across to tenderly caress his face.
My heart aches again, and I slump a little in my seat, awash with a whole array of conflicted emotions. Sometimes, I wish I could just remove my brain and all the accompanying futile thoughts and enjoy the nothingness. The complete and utter silence that would be a welcome relief.
Rachel’s flight has already landed by the time we park, and we race through the airport to reach arrivals before she walks out.
About two minutes after we arrive, she emerges through the gate looking even more beautiful than I remember. Her gorgeous dark hair is loose and flowing in thick waves down her back. She is wearing fitted skinny jeans that hug her curves in all the right places and a flimsy white blouse over a snug white lacy tank top. Moving confidently in her strappy stilettos, she removes her large sunglasses, propping them on top of her head as she notices Faye running toward her. The girls hug as Ky takes ahold of Rachel’s suitcase, returning to my side.
“You doing okay?” He glances sideways at me.
“I’m fine,” I say, more harshly than necessary.
He levels a serious look at me. “What was up with the girl earlier?”
I shrug. “Who knows? We weren’t doing much talking.”
He scrubs a hand over his cheek. “I know things are rough, man, but screwing your way through campus again this year isn’t the answer. And it’s not who you are.”
“I don’t give you advice on your love life, so don’t try to inject yourself into mine,” I hiss. “I’m sick of everyone trying to tell me what to do. It’s my life, and I’ll live it the way I want to.”
He sighs, and I watch as the girls loop arms, heading in our direction. “That’s bullshit, man, and you know it. Fine if you don’t want to confide in me. I get it. But at least confide in someone.”
What’s the frigging point? Talking about it isn’t going to solve the issue. I have no clue how to fix this clusterfuck I find myself in. I should never have suggested I act as Faye’s fake boyfriend during senior year of high school. That’s really when all the problems started. I was already attracted to her looks and her personality, so putting myself in that position was a recipe for disaster. But I thought I was helping Ky out. His troublesome ex was blackmailing him, and he was concerned she would target Faye if she knew he was falling for her. So, we agreed the best form of protection was to pretend I was her boyfriend, to hide her true relationship.
By the time our fake relationship was over, I was already head over heels in love with her. I should never have allowed my heart to become invested, but it was difficult to remain detached when we spent so much time together. We were going through similar things at the time, and we connected in a way I’ve never connected with any girl before. She became a good friend. And so much more. While Faye had a strict no-kissing policy in place, we held hands and were openly affectionate for months. She stole my heart before I even realized it.
And let’s not forget the two times we had kissed before she cemented her relationship with my best friend. I can still remember how soft her lips were. How good it felt to hold her in my arms.
Reliving those memories is killing me, but I must love torturing myself, because I can’t stop thinking about her. She’s the only girl I want even though I know she will never be mine.
And I hate that there’s constant tension in my relationship with Ky. We’ve known each other since we were two, and this is driving a wedge between us. Ky and I used to be able to talk to each other about anything, and I miss it. He’s the brother I always wished I had—not to disparage my two sisters whom I miss so Goddamned much—but, growing up, Ky was my de facto brother, and I never thought the time would come when a girl came between us.
And it’s not like this is an isolated case.
Addison was the first girl to drive a stake through the heart of our friendship, and our relationship never had time to recover from that fuck-up before this new one kicked off.
The girls land in front of us. “Look who came with,” Faye says to Rachel, wiggling her eyebrows as she stares at me.
I jerk my chin up, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Red.”
Her lips purse before speaking. “Dickhead.”
And I am a dickhead. I know she doesn’t like to be called that, and it’s not exactly fitting any more considering her hair is no longer the garish red it was when we first met, but I know it pisses her off, and I want her to stay mad at me. Rachel has some stupid notion in her head that we can be friends, and I’m determined to quash that idea before it takes root.
Friendship with a girl as hot as Rachel would only lead to sex, and I don’t go back for seconds.
Chapter Two
Rachel
That guy is such an asshole. He’s the only potential blimp in this otherwise stellar plan of mine. I honestly can’t fathom how Kyler has been best friends with Brad since they were little kids. How they’re practically like brothers, according to Faye. Brad has a major chip on his shoulder, and he doesn’t seem to care who knows it. Well, I came here to get away from that kind of shite and no one is going to drag me back to the gutter. Not even a guy as fit as Brad.
The guys are leading the charge in front of us, giving me ample opportunity to ogle the asshole without his knowledge. My eyes drop from his broad shoulders and muscular back—which flexes and rolls under his clingy shirt as he moves—to his shapely ass, and I have to fight the urge to jump him from behind. There is no denying how utterly gorgeous Brad McConaughey is. With his cropped blond hair, stunning blue eyes framed by lashes that should be illegal on a guy, and the chiseled lines of his tanned face, Brad is temptation on a stick. He has that all-American golden boy good looks I used to swoon over when I was younger. He’s like the US equivalent of Niall Horan, albeit a moodier, crankier version. Not that I know Niall Horan personally or anything, but he always comes across as a total sweetheart. Looks, talent, humor, intelligence, and a good heart. A winning combination if ever there was one. Although, I’m kind of protective over our homegrown talent, so I might be biased.
Faye digs her elbows in my ribs, breaking through my inner Niall swooning. “Were you even listening to me?”
“Nope.” I grin at her, linking my arm more firmly through hers. “I was just daydreaming about Niall Horan.”
“Random dot com.”
I snort. “I was thinking that Brad could be like the US Niall Horan if he wasn’t such an ass.”
Quick as a flash, Brad spins around, eyeballing me with a smirk. “You think I look like Niall Horan? All the ladies love Niall, or so I’ve been told.”
“And your point is?”
We come to a standstill in front of Kyler’s car.
“The ladies love me too, Red. And I think you have an inkling why.”
He winks, and it’s so wrong.
All of it.
The sleazy comment, the sly reminder that he’s been inside me, and the shady wink. I often get a sense with Brad that he’s playing a part. A role he’s not entirely comfortable with, which is why he can’t pull it off most of the time. I roll my eyes. “Modest much, dickhead?”
He barks out a laugh. “If you’ve got it, flaunt it.” He leans against the side of the car as Kyler loads my case in the boot. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Faye sadly shake her head.
“It’s college. A hard dick is a hard dick. A lot of girls don’t discriminate.”
“A lot of girls or just you?” Brad teases, pushing off the car and opening the back door for me.
Our chests brush as I slide into the seat, and a flurry of delicious tingles spreads over my skin. Resting a hand on top of the car, he leans in, arching a brow as he waits for my reply. I purposely keep my eyes locked on his face, ignoring those lick-worthy biceps of his. Even though the urge to wrap my arms around the rock-solid definition in his upper arms is almost too much to resist, I won’t give him the satisfaction. His ego’s through the roof as it is, and my Niall comment didn’t help.
The last time we spoke, three weeks ago in Nantucket, he made his feelings blatantly clear. He hates me so much he doesn’t even want to be friends. I’ve tried not to let the crushing rejection hurt, but I’d only be lying to myself if I said it didn’t gut me. I’m attempting to turn over a new leaf, to start a clean new chapter in my life, and his hurtful words chipped away at my fragile self-confidence. But I’m determined to rise above it. Screw him. I don’t need him in my life anyway. “I hate to disappoint you, lover boy, but I’m not in the minority when it comes to opinions on sex. Plenty of girls enjoy casual sex without attachment. Like I said, when you need to fuck, a dick is a dick is a dick.”
Faye splutters from the front seat. “Christ, Rach. When did you get so cynical?”
“You call it cynical. I call it realism.”
Brad scoots in the back alongside me as I buckle myself in. “But you’re forgetting the most important thing, Red.” He smirks. “All dicks are not made equal, and it’s how skillful you are with your tool that counts.”