Keeping Kyler (The Kennedy Boys Book 3)

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Keeping Kyler (The Kennedy Boys Book 3) Page 17

by Siobhan Davis


  As I look over the table at him, at the same blue eyes staring back at me, my heart rate accelerates. I think of all the ways this could have gone. Of how awful Ky’s experience was when he met his birth father, and I realize I’m lucky. While no one will ever replace Michael as my dad, Adam seems like a decent person, a decent father, and I could do a whole lot worse. He’s already putting my own needs before his own and allowing me to call the shots. He’s letting me know I have options and that he wants to share in my life, and while I’ve still got a crap ton of stuff to sort out in my head, it feels good to have someone else in my corner.

  I’d be a total fool to push him away.

  Mum loved this man for a reason, and I think I’m beginning to see why.

  “Me, too,” I tell him, and as he beams at me, I realize exactly how much I mean those words.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Faye

  “Aw, crap. Is it much longer?” Rach moans, for like the tenth time, rubbing her belly and resting her pasty face against the window of Ky’s SUV.

  Kal sends her a sympathetic look, while Ky chuckles. “We’re just approaching the exit for Boston now.”

  I reach around, handing her a bottle. “Drink more water. It’ll help flush the alcohol out of your system.”

  “Or maybe try taping your mouth shut next time,” Brad unhelpfully adds.

  “I wasn’t the only one knocking back the beers,” Rach retorts.

  “At least I can handle it.” He shakes his head. “You have no idea the state you were in. Anyone could’ve taken advantage of you, and you wouldn’t have known. That’s not smart, Rachel, and it’s the type of behavior that’ll only get you in trouble.”

  “Thanks for the lecture, Dad.” She swigs forcefully from the bottle.

  “Brad is right, Rach,” I say. “I’ve never seen you so drunk.” She’s always had a tendency to overdo it but never like that. She barely even knew her own name by the end of the night.

  “I have,” Jill interjects quietly.

  “What the feck is this?” Rach asks, looking hurt as her gaze dances between us. “I’ve got the mother of all hangovers, and the last thing I need is a bunch of know-it-alls trying to tell me what to do. Butt out, the lot of you.” Her lips pull into a tight line as she glares out the window.

  Ky places his warm hand on my knee. “Let it go,” he mouths, and I reluctantly nod. I don’t want this weekend to be overshadowed by arguments even if I am worried about my friend.

  We spend the afternoon doing some touristy things—visiting Boston Common, Quincy Market, the Bunker Hill Monument, and we even squeeze in a flying visit to the Boston Irish Famine Memorial—before driving over to Harvard to introduce the girls to my older cousins. We have a coffee in one of the campus dining halls with Keven and Kaden before heading back into the main city for dinner. They both cry off, citing previous arrangements, so it’s just the six of us who make our way to the quirky little Mexican restaurant Brad booked before we left Wellesley. Apparently, it’s one of his favorite places to eat in the city.

  Sandwiched between more illustrious restaurants, this place is a little hidden gem. Rustic tables and chairs sit atop an original stone floor. Vibrant orange and red walls are decorated with numerous traditional ornaments and paintings, giving the place a very authentic feel. Lighting is soft and the place is abuzz with chatter. The restaurant is packed to capacity, and I notice several curious heads glancing our way as the waiter brings us to a table tucked unobtrusively into a hidden nook at the back of the room.

  Our little tourist trip around the city has done wonders for Rachel’s hangover. Color has returned to her cheeks, and she’s looking more like herself. “So, Brad,” she says, taking a sip of her Coke and eyeing him over the edge of the glass. “Why exactly are you living with the Kennedys?”

  “Rach!” I elbow her softly in the ribs.

  “What? It’s a genuine question.” She looks perplexed. “Unless there’s some big secret?”

  “You didn’t tell her?” Brad looks surprised as he leans back in his chair.

  I shake my head. “No. It wasn’t my story to share.” He smiles at me, one of those long, lingering, heartwarming smiles of his. I shift uncomfortably. Ky narrows his eyes in a deliberate glare.

  “So, um, what are you going to do about college now, Faye?” Jill asks, doing her best to deflect the burgeoning tension. “Are you still planning on going to Trinity?”

  Ky whips his head around to me, his eyes reflecting his surprise. “That was the original plan before I moved here,” I tell him quickly, giving his knee a reassuring squeeze. “But plans change.” He looks deep into my eyes, seeking the answer, and I decide it’s time to put him out of his misery. “I’ve been mulling it over, and I’m pretty sure I know what I want to do.” I twist around in my chair, facing my friend. “My family is here now. My home is here now. Returning to Ireland no longer feels like the right call.” As my words settle around the table, the clarity of my decision astounds me. A layer of stress releases, and I know I’ve made the right choice. “While I haven’t made any hard and fast plans yet,” I say, looking purposely at Ky, “I think I’ll be going to college here now.”

  “Oh.” Jill looks crestfallen, and I understand why. It had been our dream to attend the iconic Trinity College Dublin together.

  “I’m sorry, Jill, but everything is different now.” Ky threads his fingers in mine, and I can sense his smile without the need to see it. “Will you still go?”

  She bobs her head enthusiastically. “Definitely. Sam is thinking of going there, too.” I don’t feel quite so guilty now.

  The waiter arrives then with our food, and group conversation ceases.

  “Do you really mean it?” Ky whispers in my ear. “You’re going to stay?”

  “I think so.”

  He frowns a little. “You think so?”

  “I … actually, could we talk about this later? We haven’t really spoken about college or the future and I’d like to, just not here.” I gesture at all the inquisitive eyes and ears around the table.

  “Sure thing, babe.” Leaning in, he kisses me firmly on the lips, and the sudden unwelcome surge of anxiety retreats.

  After dinner, we emerge into the darkness outside to discover a street bustling with activity. Street musicians entertain the crowds wandering in every direction. “Is it always this busy?” I ask Ky as he takes my hand leading the way.

  “This area is popular with students, and it’s a Saturday night, so it’s usually fairly happening.”

  “I like it. There’s a lovely vibe about the place.”

  “We should come back here by ourselves again. There’s a nice Chinese place just over there,” he says, gesturing across the road.

  Throngs of men and women are hanging around outside a bar adjacent to the restaurant, smoking, drinking, and laughing. Faint sounds of live music trickle out of the open doorway, but it’s the heart-wrenching sound of a girl crying that snatches my attention. My eyes hone in on the boy and girl standing at the corner of the bar, facing into a narrow alleyway. “Hey.” I tug on Ky’s shirt, pulling him back. “Is that Keanu?”

  Ky looks to where I’m pointing, nodding. “Come on.” We run across the road to him.

  “Hey, man,” Ky says, cautiously approaching. “Is everything okay?”

  The girl stops crying, burying her face in Keanu’s shoulder at the sound of my boyfriend’s voice. Keanu steadies her at the waist while his other hand smooths down her long, dark, glossy hair. “Everything’s fine, Ky.” His tone holds a distinct “butt out and mind your own business” edge.

  Ky looks at the girl cowering in Keanu’s arms. “I’m not here to interfere. I just wanted to see if you needed any help.”

  “We’re okay. Selena was being hassled by a jerk inside, and she got a little upset, but she’s okay now. Right, baby?” Kea
nu shifts position, drawing her around into the shelter of his arm.

  This girl looking at us is recognizable purely from the photos I’ve seen of her modeling for Kennedy Apparel with Keanu. Selena is even more stunning in real life. Apart from mascara and lip gloss, her face is devoid of makeup, and she’s absolutely breathtaking. Although her skin is flushed red from crying and her eyes are undeniably tear-stained, her flawless complexion, perfectly proportioned features, and wide brown eyes combine beautifully. Tall and thin, she has curves in all the right places, and I’m not in the least bit surprised she’s a model. I’ll bet she’s in high demand.

  Not that any of us would know.

  Keanu tells us next to nothing about her. I don’t know if they are officially boyfriend and girlfriend, just friends, or work colleagues.

  “Hi.” I extend my hand in her direction. “I’m Keanu’s cousin, Faye.”

  Her smile is genuine but tinged with sadness, and her handshake is soft and reluctant. “Hi.” Her voice is barely louder than a whisper.

  “This is my brother Kyler,” Keanu says, motioning toward Ky.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you. You’ll have to come up to the house sometime.” Ky’s tone and voice are deliberately soothing.

  Her answering smile seems tentative. “Maybe.”

  Keanu pulls Selena in tight to him, holding her firmly around her waist. “I see the others approaching across the street. I’d rather they didn’t know we are here. Please, Ky.”

  “No sweat, once you’re sure everything is okay.”

  “I’m sure.”

  He moves to walk around us, but Ky blocks him. “Does Mom or Dad know you’re out here?”

  Keanu’s cheeks pucker sourly. “I’m sixteen, Ky, not six.” He clearly doesn’t like to be called out in front of Selena. “And it’s a work-related function. Mom is well aware I’m here.”

  Ky holds up his hands in defeat. “Fine. Just looking out for you, bro.”

  Keanu rolls his eyes, ushering Selena toward the door. “I’ll see you later.”

  Ky scratches the side of his head. “Is it just me or was that weird?”

  I take his hand, pulling him back across the road. “It’s not just you. That was a little strange, but who are we to judge?”

  Back at the house, we watch a couple of movies in the cinema room until the early hours, before everyone scatters to bed. Ky steps into my room as I’m crawling under the duvet. He’s not disguising the fact he’s staying in here anymore. I can tell Alex is unhappy about it, but she doesn’t want to do anything to cause further cracks in their relationship, so she hasn’t interfered. I think James is pleased that Ky is leaning on someone, and that’s why he’s permitting it. Either way, I’m glad we aren’t sneaking around anymore.

  “What did you make of that earlier?” he asks, stealing into bed beside me. I scoot over, snuggling up against him..

  “About what?” I murmur, running my nose along the length of his neck.

  “Keanu and Selena.” His voice is husky.

  I move my hand along the expanse of his naked chest as I haul myself up on one elbow. “I don’t know what is going on with those two, but they seemed close and very comfortable with one another. Are they officially a couple or what?” My hand glides lower, and Ky sucks in a breath.

  “I’m not sure. I’ve asked Mom before but she’s as tight-lipped as Keanu is. All she’ll say is that Selena had a tough upbringing and she’s not good in social situations.”

  My hand palms the bulge in his boxers, and he grabs me by the hips, pulling me up onto his lap. “It’s late. Aren’t you tired?” I ask with a reckless glint in my eye.

  His gaze darkens as his eyes rake over me with obvious desire. Pumping his hips, he grins seductively, and I moan, grinding into him with unabashed need.

  “I’m never too tired for you.” Our mouths collide in a hungry kiss as our hands roam in mutual urgent need. Soon, we’ve shed the rest of our clothes, and he’s thrusting into me, filling me so completely that I know I’ll never be empty again. Never feel alone again. His eyes hold mine as he makes love to me, spearing me with the extent of his devotion, and as he rocks me into a blissful state, all I can think is how I want this—want him—and nothing else for the rest of my life.

  The next morning, Jill comes with me for a swim while Rach hangs out with Alex. Ky makes us a late breakfast before taking us all to the motocross track. Rick and May fill Ky in on what was, by all accounts, a very successful re-launch while I show the girls out to the bleachers. The place is virtually empty today, which suits me fine. I was hoping to have a chance to speak to Rach and Jill alone before they have to leave.

  “What’s going on with you?” I bluntly ask Rachel as we settle onto the bench to wait for the boys to appear on the track.

  “What do you mean?” she asks, acting surprised.

  “You know what she means,” Jill murmurs.

  Rach drops her head in her chin, sighing. “There’s just some shit I’m dealing with at home, and I’m trying to decide what to do with my life after I leave school in June.”

  “Surely you have plenty of options now?” I say, thinking of her family’s recent lottery win.

  “It opens some other doors, but it doesn’t mean I automatically know what the right path is.”

  “What about doing something in fashion?” I suggest, uncapping a bottle of water. I hand one each to my friends. “You’ve always had a good eye and a genuine interest in clothes. I think you’d be good at it. Did you mention anything to Alex?”

  Her eyes spark to life. “I was too awestruck to ask her about that. You should see the stuff she gave me. I about died.”

  “See that’s what I’m talking about.” I grin at her. “Your whole demeanor changes when you’re talking about clothes. You should research courses in the fashion industry when you go back, and I can always ask Alex for her advice. I’m sure she’d email you about career options and stuff.”

  “You’re lucky, Faye.”

  I almost fall off the bench. “How do you figure that?”

  “You aren’t answerable to anyone, and you don’t have family holding you back, fucking with your head and messing with your life.”

  I stand up, a sour taste churning in my mouth and my stomach. “I cannot believe you just said that.”

  “Nor me,” Jill cuts in. “Rach, how can you say that to Faye after everything she’s gone through?”

  Tears prick her eyes as she rises. “Shit. I’m sorry, Faye. I didn’t mean it like that. I was just thinking of my own situation.” Huge tears roll down her face. “You know I loved your parents, and your house always felt more like a home to me. I just meant that …”

  “What, Rach? What is troubling you?”

  She shakes her head, sniffling. “Nothing. That was terribly insensitive of me. I’m so, so sorry. Can you forgive me?”

  One look at the genuine sincerity on her face, and my anger evaporates in a puff of smoke. Rach has been my best friend for over four years and she helped me through some difficult times. I’ll never forget how she and Jill took me under their wing when we moved from Waterford to Dublin, how they helped me settle into my new school, and how understanding they were when I told them the reasons why I’d had to leave my old school. Rach’s dry sense of humor and mischievous spirit have always endeared her to me, but she’s changed. There’s a tortured darkness to her personality now that wasn’t evident before. She’s clearly dealing with something, and I wish she’d open up. Let us help her. But I know from personal experience that it isn’t something you can force. Still, it’s hard to see her in self-destructive mode and not do anything about it.

  I pull her into a hug. “There’s nothing to forgive.” Jill and I lock eyes, and concern filters between us. There has always been something off about Rach’s family life that bothered me. Her parents were pol
ite and welcoming, but we were never invited around much. Rach much preferred to hang out at our houses. I’ve often wondered what it is she drinks to forget, but trying to get information out of her is like trying to pry The Biebs away from his partying lifestyle.

  Brad and Ky appear on the track below, granting a much-needed reprieve. Kitted out in their biking gear, they are both looking hot as hell. We watch attentively as they go head to head, chatting more casually and leaving a lot unsaid.

  All too soon, it’s time to head to the airport. We say our goodbyes to May and Rick, and Brad heads back to the house while Ky drives the girls to the private hangar of Logan International Airport.

  Our goodbye is predictably tearful. I don’t know when I’ll see them again, and I cling to them with fierce possessiveness as the thought invades my mind. “Thank you so much, Ky. It’s been a wonderful trip.” Jill hugs my boyfriend. “And you two should visit us soon.” She gives me a final hug. “Everyone would love to see you. Will you think about it? Maybe at Christmas or Easter or even the summer holidays.” A loud sob escapes her mouth. “Seriously,” she whispers in my ear. “Don’t lose touch. You’re still my best friend, and even though there’s an ocean separating, us it’s no excuse for not staying in close contact.”

  My cheeks are damp as I pull away from her. “I know, and I promise to call more.”

  Rach hugs me fiercely. “If you ever want to talk about it, or you ever need to get away from it, you know where I am,” I tell her.

  “You’re welcome anytime,” Ky adds.

  “Thanks. That means a lot.”

  Ky envelops me in his arms as I watch my friends wave one final time before disappearing into the cabin. He kisses the top of my head. “Did you have a good weekend?”

  I peer up at him through watery eyes. “The best. Thank you. It means a lot that you’d do that for me with everything you have going on.”

  He kisses the tip of my nose. “That’s what you do when you’re in love. Nothing else matters but you, Faye.” He rubs his thumbs under my eyes, smoothing the moisture away. “Not now. Not ever.”

 

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