I pick my crumpled dress up off the floor, holding it out in front of me to inspect it. It’s in a million creases and not the freshest smelling. Tiptoeing to Brad’s dresser, I remove one of his T-shirts and slip it on.
In the kitchen, I remove ingredients for an omelet and get to work. Soon, coffee is brewing and the delicious smells of eggs, cheese, onion, tomato, and herbs infiltrate the air.
Brad appears in the doorframe, wearing low-hanging trackie bottoms and nothing else. He scratches the top of his head as he walks to the counter, yawning profusely. “Something smells good.”
“I hope you like omelet?”
“I’m ravenous,” he admits, rubbing a hand over his delectable stomach. “Whatever you’re offering, I’m buying.”
I’m not sure if he meant to be intentionally flirtatious, but that’s the way it comes off. Still, I’m not complaining. I was hoping things wouldn’t be awkward after last night, and so far, so good.
His gaze rakes over me from head to toe as I fiddle with the coffee pot. “Is that my shirt?”
“Um, yeah. Hope you don’t mind?”
His eyes zone in on my bare legs, and his tongue darts out, licking his lips. “Not a bit. You can wear my shirts any time you like.” His lips turn up at the corners, and there’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.
Time to shut this—whatever this is—down.
He sits on one of the stools, and I hand him a mug of steaming coffee. “How are you feeling today?” I prop my elbows on the marble top, looking across the island unit at him.
“I’m a bit pissed, to be honest.”
I quirk a brow before turning around to plate the omelets. I don’t respond until I’m sitting across from him, and we’re both tucking in. “Pissed at who?”
He stops mid-bite. “Myself.” I urge him to continue with my eyes as I eat. “My feelings for Faye have always been complicated, but she’s his girl, and while it’s hard to be around her sometimes, I’ve always known there was a line. I honestly don’t know why I tried to cross it, and now I’ve lost my best friend and her in the process.”
I put my fork down, carefully choosing my next words. “Do you love her?”
He takes a few mouthfuls of his breakfast while considering his reply. My chest tightens painfully the longer the silence continues.
He peers intently into my eyes, gulping. “Yes, but I’m not sure it’s the right kind of love or the way I would feel if she was the one.”
The tightness in my chest expands at his confirmation, and I hate the feelings his words invoke in me—jealousy, anger, hurt. I’m such a novice with this stuff. I concentrate on my food, shoveling mouthfuls into my gob in an attempt to avoid speaking. I’m not sure what might come out if I do.
Reaching across the island, he places his hand on top of mine. “I don’t mean to upset you. I’m just trying to explain what’s in my head, and it’s not a surprise that it’s come out all jumbled. What I’m trying to say is I have certain feelings for her, but I don’t think it’s the way I’d feel if she was the love of my life, and a lot of how I feel for her is tied up with all that stuff that happened between me and Ky before Faye was even on the scene.” He averts his eyes. “I harbor a lot of resentment toward him.” His chest heaves.
I tilt his face around so we’re looking at one another. “I don’t know all the details, and I’m not asking you to tell me, but I can understand that to a point, and you shouldn’t feel guilty about how you feel.”
He takes my other hand in his. “I’ve never admitted that to anyone, and you’ve no idea how much guilt I’m carrying for so many things, and how much I hate myself sometimes for the mistakes I’ve made. For not being a stronger, better person.”
“I understand that more than you know.”
“Maybe, one day, we’ll be able to tell each other.”
“Maybe.”
Silence stretches between us as we hold hands over the island unit. “About what you said last night,” he says, clearing his throat. “I’ve never hated you, Rachel. I’ve been going around angry at the world, and for whatever reason, I took the brunt of it out on you. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you or make you feel less important than you are. I wish I could take back so much, but I can’t, so all I can do is try to make it up to you. I’m so grateful that you came here last night. Faye’s your best friend, and considering what’s gone on between us, I wouldn’t blame you for hating me.”
“I meant what I said last night, and I’d like a fresh start. I’d like it if we could be friends.”
He smiles. “I’d really like that too.”
My shoulders relax, and I smile back at him. “I’m glad, because I’ve had an idea, and I wasn’t sure how to broach it with you.”
“Shoot.”
“How would you feel if I moved in here with you?” His eyes are out on stilts. “Just as friends,” I rush to add. “Strictly platonic.”
“You’d do that for me?”
I nod. “You’re going to need someone to help with rent and bills and stuff.”
“You don’t need to do that. I’m sure I can find someone else to move in.”
“I doubt it. Not this early in the semester.”
“It doesn’t make sense. You own that apartment, so why would you move in here and pay rent? I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I’m not a charity case,” he says, through gritted teeth.
I think I’ve just offended his precious male pride. Boohoo. “It’s not about the money, and you know how I feel about that. I’m not being entirely selfless either. There is an ulterior motive. I don’t particularly want to live with a couple, especially not those two. As much as I love them to death, they can’t keep their hands off one another, and it’s bound to get awkward. I’ll feel like I’m in the way. This way, Kyler can stay with Faye and not have to worry about finding a new place, you don’t have the hassle of trying to locate a new roomie, and I don’t have to wear earplugs to bed every night.” I bite down on my lip. “Unless you plan to have female company, which is totally fine, and I’ll just make myself scarce then.”
“You won’t have to worry. I’m finished all that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
An uncomfortable silence gathers in the space between us. “I, um.” I remove my hands from under his, wrapping my arms around my waist. “If we’re to do this, then the ground rules should be really clear. Our arrangement is strictly friends only. No sex. No kissing. Just normal roommates.”
“I can do friends, but are you sure you want to move in here?”
“Yes.” What I haven’t articulated is how much safer I’ll feel here, off the grid, with Brad’s protection.
“Okay, then, roomie.” Brad extends his hand, and we shake on it. “Let’s do this.”
I return to my apartment an hour later and start packing up my things. When Faye surfaces from her bedroom, I explain my decision.
“I don’t want to drive you out of your own apartment.” She sinks down on the bed alongside me.
“You’re not. I made this decision, and you know I’m right. It’s best for everyone.”
“The plan was that we were going to live together, not that we’d both end up living with boys.”
I shrug. “Circumstances have necessitated a change in plans. We couldn’t have predicted that.”
A wave of sadness washes over her face. “I feel so bad about all this.” She looks me straight in the eye. “I know you have feelings for him, and it’s like I’m messing up whatever potential is there.”
“Stop it. Stop beating yourself up over it. It is what it is. Brad and I are strictly friends only from here on out.”
Her frown deepens, and I elbow her in the ribs. “Stop that! Honestly. I’m grand, and you have nothing to feel guilty for.”
“He doesn’t love me, Rach.
I’d bet my life on it. He just doesn’t know what he’s feeling.”
“He tried to kiss you, Faye.” I hate how much it hurts to say that.
“Honestly, Rach, I could’ve been any girl and he would’ve done that.”
“That’s not making me feel any better.”
“What I mean is, he needed comfort in that moment, and I was the one there. It was purely situational. It wasn’t because he wanted to kiss me.”
Faye glances anxiously over her shoulder. “I don’t want Ky to hear me talking about this, he’s pissed enough as it is, but I’m glad you’re moving in with Brad. He needs someone on his side. He needs someone watching out for him,” she says, in a deliberately low tone of voice.
“I know, and, in a funny way, I think I need him too.”
“There’s nothing funny about that, and maybe this is just what you two need to sort out your feelings for one another.”
Perhaps Faye’s right, but I’m not entering into this arrangement to progress things with Brad. I have more urgent concerns that demand my focus.
I’m waiting outside Kev’s building, checking my watch every few seconds. He’s late. He told me to meet him here at six, and it’s now seven minutes past, and he’s still a no-show. I take out my phone to call him when he come’s bounding around the corner. “Sorry I’m late. One of the TAs pulled me aside after class and I got delayed.”
“No sweat.”
“Come on,” he says, panting like he ran the whole way here. “Let’s go up to my room and talk.”
As we enter his apartment, Kev does a quick check to ensure his roomie is out before speaking. “Something’s not adding up, and it concerns me.” He prods the door shut with his booted foot.
“In what way?”
“So, you know I have a trace on the guy’s passport, bank accounts and cards, social media, cell, and online activity?” I nod, as rampant panic blossoms in my gut. “According to that text you got, all indications pointed to him being in America, but my reports show he’s still in Ireland.”
I release the breath I’d been holding. “That’s a good thing, no? It means he isn’t here.”
Kev scrubs a hand over his stubbly jaw. “I’m not sure. Either he’s bluffing to scare the shit out of you or he’s got someone else using his identity and he’s traveling under a fake one, because all activity on that profile shows minimal travel that’s confined to Ireland. It’s too neat. I don’t trust it.”
My stomach coils into knots. “It’s possible to do that?”
“Pretty much anything is possible if you’ve got money and the right contacts.”
“He has plenty of money.”
“And money can buy you the right kind of connections.” Kev leans forward in his chair. “I don’t want to worry you unnecessarily, but I wanted to make you aware of my suspicions. I’m going to dig deeper. Hopefully, the text was just a ruse, and he’s still in Ireland, and you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
But as I walk to the apartment, I’m in a daze, understanding I’ve got a shit ton to worry about. Because if there’s one thing I know about him, it’s that he won’t hesitate to use his money to find me. If Kev suspects he’s on to us, and that he’s using fake identification to move around undetected, then I’m ninety-nine percent certain that’s exactly what he’s doing.
He’s here, and it’s only a matter of time before he finds me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Brad
It’s the night after Rachel moved in, and I’m cooking dinner when she returns home looking like she’s got the world’s problems on her shoulders. “I hope you like spaghetti and meatballs,” I call out, as she drops her keys, purse, and jacket on the island behind me.
“Anything sounds good after the day I’ve had.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Nah, just college crap and other stuff.”
I stir the sauce, placing a lid on top as I move to the fridge and pour two iced waters. I hand one to her.
“Thanks,” she says, chugging it back.
“Dinner will be about fifteen minutes, so why don’t you take a bath or a shower and relax. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”
“Actually, a bath sounds lovely. Good idea.” She hops up. “I’ll get changed.”
While she’s in her bedroom, I move to the bathroom, turn the water on, and fill the tub with some scented bubble bath Faye left here. The room fills up with steam and the scent of jasmine. I light a few candles and retrieve a couple of fluffy towels from the cabinet.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Rachel says from behind me.
I straighten up, shrugging and trying not to stare at her tempting bare legs. She’s wearing a silky black and pink robe that clings to her curves and reaches just above her knee. Her hard nipples jut out through the fine material, instantly stirring my lust. “It’s no big deal.” I rush past her, anxious to get out of here before I do something stupid like strip her of that robe and jump in the tub with her.
I knock on the bathroom door about ten minutes later. “Dinner’s ready, but take your time. I’ll keep it warm.”
“I’ll be right out,” she shouts through the closed door. I press my forehead to the doorframe as sounds of water sloshing about feeds my overactive imagination. Streams of steam creep out under the bottom of the door, and I conjure up vivid images of her standing in the tub, her skin damp and flushed as beads of water trickle down over her tits and farther south. I’m already hard as a rock and questioning the decision to let her move in. She was pretty adamant about the “friends with no benefits” arrangement, and I don’t want to disrespect her in any way. I haven’t always treated Rachel right, and this is a golden opportunity to make amends.
Meaning, no fantasies of taking her to my bed.
Adjusting myself in my jeans, I walk back to the kitchen computing calculus equations in my head. Anything to replace the images of a wet, naked Rachel in my mind, because I’m desperate to diffuse the bomb in my pants.
Rachel only picks at her dinner, and she’s quieter than usual as we eat. “You don’t like it?” I ask, clearing away the plates.
She hops off the stool. “It was yummy, but I haven’t had much of an appetite recently.” I’ve noticed she’s looking thinner, and the black cotton jersey dress she’s wearing is loose around her waist and hips. I don’t want to pry, so I swat my curiosity aside. “Leave that,” she says, taking the plates from my hands. “You cooked. I’ll clean.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I salute her. “You’re the boss.”
She rolls her eyes, but her mouth twitches in a half-smile.
I stroll into the living area, flopping lengthways on the leather couch. I flip on ESPN.
Rachel joins me a few minutes later, gesturing toward the game on the screen. “I hate that you were suspended because of me.”
I shake my head. “Not because of you. Because of that asshole, and I knew there would be hell to pay if I was caught. I have no regrets, so you shouldn’t either.”
She is quiet for a bit. “Do you miss it?”
“Yeah, but I’m only suspended for a few weeks. I’ll cope. At least it’s given me time to catch up on course work, and spend time with my family.”
“How’s your mum?”
She sounds so like Faye when she says that word. A pang of regret lances me on all sides. I’ve been purposely trying not to think about Kyler and the fact we’re not even on speaking terms anymore. “She’s doing okay. I know she still feels like she’s betrayed my dad, but it was the best way for everyone to move on. I’m going house hunting with her this weekend. Aunt Cora has loaned her enough money for six months’ rent.”
“What’s she planning on doing?”
“I’m not sure if she’s given that much thought yet. She’s focused on getting the girls enrolled in school this week and then
finding somewhere to live, and then, I guess, she’ll figure out the rest.”
“And there’s been no news of your dad?” I shake my head. “Do you think he’ll turn himself in?”
I snort. “Not a chance. Unless they catch up to him, I doubt we’ll ever see him again.”
“Maybe he’ll surprise you.”
“I don’t really care, either way.” And I don’t care much for the direction this conversation has taken either. “If you don’t have plans on Saturday, do you want to come to Wellesley with me? I know Mom would love to see you.”
She cringes a little.
Shit. Why did I go there?
“It’s totally cool if you don’t want to come, and, don’t worry, I’ll tell her we’re not really going out so you don’t have to visit anymore.”
She pulls her knees into her chest, causing the material to slide down, exposing a decent amount of her thighs. It takes gigantic effort not to ogle her naked flesh.
“No, it’s not that. I like your family, and I don’t mind hanging out with them. It’s just that, I, ah, already made plans to have lunch with Kev on Saturday.”
“Oh.” I swallow the bitter lump of jealousy constricting my airwaves. “No problem.” I turn my attention back to the screen. Neither of us speaks for a few minutes, until I can stand it no more. “What’s going on with you and him?”
“We’re just friends.”
“You seem to spend a lot of time together.”
“He’s helping me with something.”
I turn over on my side, staring at her. “In what way?”
She squirms a little. “It’s not something I’m comfortable discussing.”
She has no issue in discussing it with him it seems. I don’t know what expression appears on my face, but it obviously gives the game away. “And I haven’t told him much either. He knows enough to help me but that’s it.”
“It’s none of my business.” I return my gaze to the TV.
Saving Brad (The Kennedy Boys Book 5) Page 20