Saving Brad (The Kennedy Boys Book 5)

by Siobhan Davis

  I head out to the kitchen, surveying the damage to the hob. After I’ve cleaned it up, it looks in working order, except for the spot where the fryer had been. That is covered in congealed melted plastic, and there’s no way I’m tackling that.

  I pull out a griddle pan and fry up some bacon, mushrooms, and tomatoes on one of the rear rings.

  I have just dished up two plates when Brad wanders into the kitchen, still in only his tight-fitting black boxers, not bothering to conceal the sizeable erection he’s sporting. He is yawning and running a hand through his hair when he stalls the minute he spies me. His eyes startle in confusion. “Rachel.” His voice is hoarse. “What are you doing here?” His gaze drops to my sleep shorts and down my bare legs and feet.

  I carry the plates to the table. “You don’t remember?”

  Slowly, he shakes his head, and I can clearly spot the confusion mixing with panic in his eyes. I smirk, knowing full well where his head has gone. “Sit, eat, and I’ll explain.”

  Air expels from his mouth in a loud rush as he walks cautiously toward me.

  I laugh. “Relax, we didn’t sleep together although you did drunkenly kiss me at the party.”

  He groans, looking embarrassed. “Unfortunately, I remember that part of the night. I, ah, sorry about that. I was being an asshole.” Like a naughty little boy, he looks up at me with a pleading face.

  “I’ve already forgotten about it. Please just sit down and eat. You need to get some food into your system.”

  We eat in silence for a little while before he puts his cutlery down and clears his throat. His eyes dart between me and the open French doors. “Why is the deep fryer out on the balcony?”

  “Because it was on fire when I arrived.”

  His face drops. “What?”

  I nod. “You were fast asleep in the kitchen, the fryer was on the hob, and the smoke alarm was going off when I arrived. You were totally out for the count.” I push my half-eaten plate away, my appetite vanquished. “You could have died.”

  His Adam’s apple jumps in his throat, as he fixates on the fryer. Turning around, he looks at the stove and then up at the ceiling. My eyes follow his movement, and I gasp. There’s a dirty, smoky mark on the ceiling in the shape of a giant mushroom cloud. “Oh my God.” His voice is strained. “I … I don’t even remember putting it on.” He clamps a hand over his mouth. “Thank you,” he whispers, after a minute. “I don’t know why you’re here, but thank you.”

  I nod. “I didn’t think you should be by yourself, so I took Ky’s keys and grabbed an Uber. I can’t even think about what would’ve happened if you’d been here alone.” And, the more I think about it, the more annoyed I’m getting with Kyler. Yes, I know things are awkward as fuck between them, and he can’t bear to be away from Faye, but Brad is still his friend, and he should not have left him alone last night. Not when he was clearly incapable of looking after himself.

  “Why do you care?”

  I pin him with a frank look. “You know why.” We stare at one another. “I’ve been drunk and alone. I’ve puked in the kitchen sink too many times to count. I could have set the house on fire. I had no one looking out for me either.”

  A muscle pulses in his jaw. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not your responsibility, and I’m a big boy. I fucked up, but that’s all on me.”

  I level an incredulous look at him. “It was more than just fucking up! You could’ve died! This is serious, Brad, and I know what I’m talking about.” I glare at him. Maybe he’s still drunk, or he’s lost too many brain cells to alcohol, but I’m not taking this bullshit.

  “I know it’s fucking serious! I know I need to get my shit together,” he seethes, leaning across the table. “But it’s my life, and no one asked you to get involved.”

  I stand up, seeing red. “You are the most ungrateful, stupid, idiotic dickhead I’ve ever met! And you infuriate the fuck out of me!” I scream.

  He scrubs a hand over his unshaven jaw. “Look, Rachel, I—”

  “No.” I raise a palm in front of his face. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m the fucking insane one for even worrying about you in the first place. You can set your grouchy ass on fire the next time, and see if I care.”

  I stomp toward the bedrooms, spinning around as I remember the main reason why I came here. “By the way, I overheard some girl outside the smoothie bar telling a couple of her girlfriends how you called her Faye when you were fucking her. It sounded like she was planning on making trouble. I wanted to give you a heads-up, because if you don’t sort that shit out and she does anything to hurt my friend, I am holding you personally responsible.”

  He angles his head to the side. “I’ve dealt with that. She won’t cause trouble.”

  I snort, shaking my head. “Yeah. That’s reassuring. Not.” I glower at him.

  “She won’t be a problem!” he yells. “And it’s none of your business so butt out.”

  “Next time I even consider coming here to check on you, I’m going to give myself a lobotomy,” I toss out before flouncing to Kyler’s room to get dressed.

  I don’t see Brad again, even though I had half-hoped he would cop the fuck on and apologize for his assholery ways, but it didn’t come to pass. That jerk is the most stubborn man I’ve ever met.

  As I pull the door shut on their apartment and start pounding the pavements home, “Dickhead, dickhead, dickhead” is my constant silent mantra. Never again, I promise myself. I am never putting myself out for that dickhead again.

  Chapter Seven

  Brad

  Ky rips me a new one when he returns home late Sunday night, and I let him. There isn’t anything he says that I haven’t already said to myself. Last night was the wake-up call I needed. I need to get my act together before I permanently fuck things up.

  The rest of the week passes by quickly and uneventfully. I avoid all parties and social activities and focus on classes, study, and football practice.

  It’s Saturday, and we obliterated our opponents in the game earlier, and everyone on the team is buzzing—our season is off to a flying start. I’m crawling the walls and in desperate need of a change of scenery by now, so when Ryan confirms that Noah is hosting a celebratory party for the team at his place, it takes me all of two seconds to agree to attend.

  The place is crammed to the rafters when we arrive, and we make a beeline for our crew. As usual, a group of girls are surrounding the football players. Normally, I’d pick a chick early in the night and go back to her place, but I’m not feeling it tonight. I’ve been in a weird funk all week. I’m determined to end the night relatively sober, so I’m sipping my beer instead of chugging it back like usual.

  I ignore the busty blonde trying to catch my eye and close ranks around the guys, keeping her out. Ryan chuckles. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “Nothing. Just not in the mood tonight.”

  He places his hand to my forehead. “You running a fever or something?”

  I swat his hand away. “Funny, I could ask you the same thing.”

  “Chels and I have agreed to date, and I promised her we’d be exclusive, so I’ve got a reason.”

  “No shit?” All Ryan did the last semester of our freshman year was complain about how clingy Chelsea was.

  He scratches the side of his head. “You know she lives in the adjacent town to mine, so, we hung out a bit this summer, and I changed my opinion of her. I like her and the idea of sticking with one girl for a while. These groupies are starting to piss me off.”

  “Christ. If anyone has a fever, it’s definitely you.”

  He laughs, tipping beer into his mouth. “Maybe.” His gaze roams over my head, and a sly smile coasts over his lips. “Hey, isn’t that the girl you were talking to after practice last week?”

  I turn around, catching sight of the gorgeous brunette heading my way. “Yea
h.”

  “You hook up already?”

  “Nope.” I take a decent-sized mouthful of my drink. “She’s on the rebound and wanted me to be her fall-back guy. Her assumption that I’d readily agree pissed me off.”

  Ryan chuckles. “Dude, what’s crawled up your butt? Last year, you wouldn’t have given two shits about that.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m reassessing a few things.”

  “Hi, Brad.” The brunette curls her fingers around my biceps, smiling up at me. “Remember me?”

  She’s wearing a tiny tank top that leaves little to the imagination. Her skintight jeans mold to her form, and there’s no denying she’s a gorgeous girl. She licks her lips as she leans up on her tiptoes and presses her mouth to my ear. “I was hoping you’d had time to consider my proposal.”

  I’m not really feeling it, but it’s been two weeks since that disaster with Kayla or Callie or whatever the hell her name was. And all week I’ve been rubbing one out in the shower with fantasies of Rachel playing in my mind, which is something I don’t want to encourage. Maybe I need to get back in the saddle.

  I smooth a hand over my head, staring at her lush mouth. “I might be open to persuasion.” Excitement lights up her eyes. “If we do this, it’ll only be a one-time thing.” I make sure to be up-front about that every time.

  She nods her head enthusiastically. “I’m totally cool with that.” Yeah, that’s what a lot of the clingers say.

  Ryan has a knowing grin on his face. “Shut it,” I say, taking the girl’s hand and leading her out to the corridor. I press her up against the wall and lean in. She looks up at me expectantly, her hands snaking around my neck. My fingers tangle in her hair as I angle my head and lean in. Her mouth is soft and welcoming against mine, and I kiss her gently at first. Her delicate floral fragrance swirls around me, and I grip her hips, drawing her body flush against mine. She gasps into my mouth. I deepen the kiss, grinding my pelvis against hers.

  Her fingers dip under my shirt, and her hands start exploring. As we kiss, a million thoughts swarm my mind. I try to focus, but my mind keeps wandering, and I’m merely going through the motions. She’s gorgeous, and a great kisser, but I’m not feeling this. Not feeling it at all. All the little raspy sounds she’s making are irritating the fuck out of me, and there’s literally zero action happening down south. That’s never happened to me before, and it’s frustrating. Irked, I kiss her harder, delving my hands back into her hair. An image of Rachel wrapped around me, digging her nails into my back, and writhing against me crawls into my mind, and I rip my lips from the brunette, falling back as my dick finally sparks to life.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks, pouting.

  I exhale noisily. “Sorry, but I’m not into this.” Her eyes drop to my crotch, and she smirks. Her arrogance fucking pisses me off. I lean in, my jaw drawn tight. “Sorry to disappoint you, but that’s not for you. There was zero life in my dick the entire time I was kissing you.”

  She narrows her eyes, and her lower lip wobbles. Now, I feel like utter crap. Just ’cause I’m all fucked up doesn’t mean I have to take it out on her. “Look, it’s not you, okay. You’re gorgeous, and at any other time I’d be down for this, but the timing is off. Besides, you look like a nice girl. You should find someone other than a football player as your rebound guy. Better yet, go back to your boyfriend.”

  I’m horrified when tears well in her eyes. “Yeah, it’s not me, right, as if I’m going to fall for that. All the girls said you were a dead certainty. That you screw any female with a pulse.” She pushes off the wall, furiously swiping at the falling tears. “I’m the one girl on campus you don’t want to screw, and I’m basically on my knees begging? Go fuck yourself, asshole. I’m far too good for the likes of you anyway.”

  She shoves past me, bumping into someone as she goes.

  “What did you do to her?” Ky asks, lounging against the wall and eyeing me warily.

  “Told her I wouldn’t fuck her. Apparently, I screw anything that moves, so the rejection didn’t sit well with her.”

  Ky arches a brow. “You turned down pussy?”

  “You don’t have to act so surprised.”

  “It’s not exactly your usual M.O.”

  I shrug. “Maybe I’m sick of whoring my way around campus.”

  Ky straightens up, mumbling something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like “about time.” He bores a hole in my skull. “What’s going on with you, bro?”

  I sigh, leaning my head back against the wall. “I wish I knew.”

  Ky moves over beside me, mirroring my position. “We haven’t spent any time together in ages. Why don’t we hang out tomorrow? Want to head to the track?”

  This is the first time in months he has expressed interest in doing something without Faye tagging along. And I haven’t been to the Middleborough motocross track in months. There was a time it was like our second home, but these days, I have zero free time to indulge my hobby. I pick my head up. “Yeah, let’s do it, man.”

  We head back into the party, and I stifle a groan when I spy Rachel with Faye along with that girl and her boyfriend from the night of Kev’s twenty-first.

  “Yay!” Faye exclaims when she sees me, like I’m her favorite person in the world. “We were hoping you’d be here. You’ve been laying low all week.”

  “Yeah, well. There was good reason for that.” Out of the corner of my eye, I spy the brunette I was just kissing in a huddle with a few girlfriends. They all throw daggers at me, but I pretend not to notice.

  Ky doesn’t move to his girlfriend’s side, which surprises me. He is usually stuck to her like glue at these things. Faye introduces me to Lauren and her boyfriend, Gavin, who it seems is in class with Keven. Rachel gives me a curt hello and then proceeds to ignore me. Ky and I chat about crap, and it almost feels like old times.

  “Well, if it isn’t the asshole extraordinaire,” a female voice pipes up from behind me, sarcasm dripping off every word. Rachel visibly stiffens. I angle my head, inwardly cussing when I lock eyes with Callie.

  “Trying to have a private conversation here, Kayla. Run along now.” I glare at her before turning away again.

  “My name is Callie, asshole.”

  “And mine’s Brad, but you know that too.” Having made my point, I take a swig from my beer as Ky silently surveys our exchange. He has that neutral expression on his face. The one that means he’s calculating behind his indifferent mask.

  “You’re Kyler, right?” she asks in a sweet tone of voice, eyeing him like he’s her next meal. I catch Rachel’s eye, and she’s silently imploring me to do something. Very gently, I take Callie’s arm. “Let me help you find the door.”

  “Get your hand off me,” she slurs, swaying on her feet a little. “I’m saying what I came here to say.”

  Reluctantly, I let her go. “Don’t do this. Please. Let’s go outside and talk.”

  She snorts in a most unattractive fashion, before straightening up, shooting me a superior look. “Yeah, I don’t think so, asshole.” She raises her voice, and turns toward Kyler again.

  Rachel rounds our group, hissing in my ear. “Do something! Just drag her out of here! They can’t hear it like this!”

  “I can’t force her to come with me against her will, and she’ll only shout it out anyway,” I whisper back. “There’s no stopping this.”

  “I think you should know, Kyler,” she bellows out, successfully capturing the interest of the room. “That your best friend imagines he’s fucking your girlfriend when he’s with other girls. He called me Faye several times during sex.”

  She’s lying. It slipped out once, but I’m not going to win any brownie points by publicly correcting her. It’s still one time too many.

  “I can’t help wondering if it’s more than just his imagination though.” Callie sends a suspicious look in Faye’s direc
tion. Faye has turned the color of milk, and she looks like she wishes the ground would swallow her whole. She hates being the center of attention, and the entire room has muted, watching the drama with bated breath. “How much do you trust your girlfriend, and is that wise?” She peers adoringly at Ky.

  “That’s enough.” Rachel places herself in front of Callie, glaring at her. “You’re a poisonous little bitch, and no one believes your lies. You think you’re the first girl to spread rumors in an attempt to dig her claws into a Kennedy? This is old news. No one believes you, so just fuck off before you embarrass yourself even more.”

  “I’m not lying!” Callie roars.

  “Tell that to someone who actually gives a crap,” Rach coolly replies, and I want to kiss the fuck out of her feisty lips. She’s handling this perfectly. “You’re pathetic. I feel sorry for you.”

  “Time to go, Callie,” Noah says, appearing beside her. He nods at me. “Let me escort you out.” She doesn’t go quietly, continuing to mouth off. Hushed murmurs filter around the room as everyone waits for our reaction.

  “I’m sorry about that.” I can’t even look at Ky or Faye.

  Ky slaps me on the back, more firmly than necessary. “Everyone just act normal,” he commands in a low voice, grinning at me as if he found this amusing. “I’m not airing our dirty laundry in public or giving any weight to those rumors.”

  Rachel returns to Faye’s side, whispering urgently in her ear. Lauren and Gavin don’t know where to look.

  Ryan saunters over with Chelsea hanging off his arm. “She’s a crazy bitch, and she’s been mouthing that crap all week to anyone who’ll listen. Don’t pay any attention to her.” His worried gaze flits between Ky and me. “Hey, did you hear …” I tune him out as he starts talking game stats and strategy, not that I’m ungrateful he switched the subject, but all I can think about is how the hell I’m going to explain this to Ky.

  Twenty minutes later, Ky eyeballs me, speaking quietly. “I think it’s safe to leave now, and you’re coming with us.”