The Keaton Series Boxed Set

Home > Other > The Keaton Series Boxed Set > Page 62
The Keaton Series Boxed Set Page 62

by B. A. Wolfe


  She’d just witnessed Shay’s caressing hand on my arm and the ridiculous grin across my face.

  Fuck.

  Fourteen

  Cassandra

  THE GIRL WHO SEEMED more than comfortable sitting next to Aidan looked remarkably like Anna. A little older maybe, so I could only guess it was Shay. If it wasn’t one sister, it was the other getting under my skin today. I couldn’t take it much longer.

  Curiosity got the better of me and I couldn’t stop peering over my shoulder. Shay’s hand trailed along his arm as he stared at her with a grin. I placed a hand over my knotted stomach.

  “You seem distracted?” Jeff asked, drawing my attention to him.

  I was.

  Every atom in my body couldn’t help but think of Aidan, of Shay, of her hands on him, and his eyes on her. “Sorry, Jeff. Do you mind if we finish our conversation later?” A fake smile spread across my lips as I looked at him.

  “Yeah, of course.” He gave my shoulder a pat.

  I told him thank you and then like an idiot, stole another glance behind me as Jeff took off. I caught the bartender sliding Aidan a glass of amber-colored liquid. He was hitting it hard tonight. I shook my head and looked over at the dance floor. Mel and Moose looked . . . happy. She was laughing and he was holding her close while wearing the biggest grin. My stomach turned in the opposite direction. I really wanted to be enjoying myself tonight.

  It was my own fault that I wasn’t. I ran off in the first place, but that one word—sweetheart—took my already fragile heart and shattered it. That was Jase’s term of endearment and no one, not even Aidan, could call me that. It wasn’t okay. So I did what I always do and freaking ran away from the situation.

  I swiveled my stool back to the bar and grabbed my watered-down iced tea. I didn’t dare glance in Aidan’s direction as I sat alone for who knew how long and sucked the last of my drink dry. I got the bartender’s attention and ordered a glass of water. I’d drink it, then get Mel and go home.

  Lifting the glass to my lips, I took a small sip and set the glass on the bar. I wasn’t sure why on earth I did it, but I twisted my neck and glanced back at Aidan one last time. My stomach pain eased. Shay was gone and Aidan was alone. But his body was slouched over the counter and his eyelids had begun to droop. The glass he barely held onto was one sip away from empty. And now anger stirred inside of me as I watched him wave the bartender down.

  I held my glass of water and marched my ass over to him. I couldn’t just sit on the sidelines and watch anymore. Standing next to his slumped body, I slammed the glass on the bar in front of him.

  He jolted in his seat, his eyes slowly taking me in. “Heyyy, you.”

  I forced the water centimeters from his hand. “Here.”

  “Whas sis?” he slurred.

  I didn’t like him like this. At all. “It’s water. Drink it.” My voice was harsh and to the point. I didn’t care.

  He turned those sad puppy eyes on me. “Why are you mad?”

  I sighed in frustration. “What does it matter?”

  “I don’t like it when you’re mad at me. Tell me . . . tell me what I did.” His eyelids drifted lower while he spoke.

  “You’re drunk. You wouldn’t remember if I told you.” I grabbed a straw and slipped it in the glass, holding it in front of him. “Just drink the water. Please.”

  He looked down at the bar. “I was asked to watch over you, not the other way around.” His words were hushed and my preoccupied mind wasn’t really listening to him.

  “Stop mumbling, Aidan. I don’t have the patience right now.”

  I scanned the dance floor for Mel as I held the glass. I wasn’t having any luck finding my friend, but every few seconds my eyes caught Aidan’s. They reminded me of a little boy who was in trouble. Not to mention, he was broody as hell. I wanted to smack him for drinking too much and doing this to himself.

  Huffing out of frustration, I eyed him seriously. “I can’t find Mel or Moose, and I need to get back to Jase. Give me your keys. We’re leaving.”

  He shoved the near-empty glass of water away. “You’re bossy.”

  I held my palm out in front of him and he lifted his hand, slapping it on top of mine.

  A high-five? “Really?” I rolled my eyes. “You’re not helping the situation. Keys. Now!”

  He giggled as he dug in his pockets as if he were searching for lost treasure. My foot tapped impatiently as I waited. “I don’t have all night, Aidan.”

  “Ah-ha,” he said lazily as he dangled the keys in my face.

  I snatched them from his loose fingers, and if looks could kill I was sure the daggers I sent him would have dropped him to the floor.

  “Damn. Les go.” His voice may have meant business, but the childish smirk on his face said otherwise.

  The bartender slid his bill over. I grabbed it, held it at eye level, and gaped at the insane total. “How many drinks did you have?”

  “Enoughhh.” His eyes squinted to see the bill.

  As if he’d be able to read anything right now. I decided to fish in his pocket myself for the damn wallet. He tried to maintain a straight face, but chuckled as I searched him. A minute later, I had his wallet and pulled out enough money for his ridiculous bar tab and a tip. Slamming the cash on the bar, I shoved his wallet back at him.

  “That was fun.” Amusement flashed in his eyes.

  I huffed and then skimmed the bar once more, praying Mel would appear out of thin air. Nothing. Where in the world did they go? It didn’t matter. Someone had to take Aidan’s drunk ass home. I pulled out my phone, sent a quick text to Mel, and let her know my plan.

  I looked at Aidan. His hair was a mess, his body weak, and his eyes sad. This wasn’t him—not the gentleman I’d met, anyway. This man looked as if a weight of bricks had slowly crushed his chest.

  “Let’s go.” I grabbed his hand and took us to his car.

  The ride home was silent. Had he passed out, or was he just trying to hold back vomit? Both, I hoped.

  A few mumbles erupted from him as I entered the neighborhood. “I told Jase. I told him to—”

  The use of Jase’s name triggered something fierce in me. I death-gripped the steering wheel and slammed on the brakes. Our seatbelts jerked us back into our seats.

  My chest pounded as I stared into the darkened street ahead. “You know what? No. You will not mention his name. You don’t get to do that. I’ve already witnessed one Bradley in a casket, Aidan. I’m not doing that shit again.” I turned to face him down in the dim light from the dashboard “I’m not. It’s your body, but you only have one kidney. That’s it. Don’t you give a shit about your body? You have to take care of it. For your parents.” My voice dropped significantly as I neared the end of my speech. “For me.”

  I couldn’t even look at him. I turned back and stared out the windshield, letting what I said soak in. A few minutes later, I still had no response so I glanced over. His eyelids were shut tight. He’d fallen asleep. Of course he had.

  I was grateful he didn’t hear what I had to say. He didn’t need to know how much I cared for him. How much I’d break if I had to go through another Bradley lying lifeless in a casket.

  I moved my foot back to the gas pedal as I shook my head. Minutes later, I pulled into the driveway and got out of the car, sighing as I reached the passenger door and opened it. I reached around him and unlocked his seatbelt, taking in his tender features. A slight glimmer caught my eye as I pulled the belt from his waist. A drop of moisture rested in the corner of his eye. The beats in my chest halted. I inhaled deeply, wiping the lone tear from his eye.

  Was it possible he heard me? No. There was no way.

  “Aidan, we’re home. I need you to wake up.” His eyes fluttered, stirring something deep in my belly. The need to take care of him was strong.

  “I’m . . . I’m . . .” he stuttered as we headed to the door.

  “Don’t,” I said, cutting him off. “We’ll talk later.”

&n
bsp; Struggling, I managed to get us both inside. Aidan stumbled a few feet and apparently decided the couch was where he’d sleep tonight.

  Trish came from the family room in a long purple robe, shaking her head as she watched Aidan snuggling into the couch.

  “Sorry we’re so late. I couldn’t find Mel and Moose, then . . .” I tipped my head in Aidan’s direction. “I couldn’t leave him, so I drove us home.”

  A deep sigh escaped her.

  “I forced some water down him,” I said, and the pinched expression on her features smoothed out as she smiled her thanks and nodded.

  “Mel came home about ten minutes ago. She grabbed Jase and went downstairs. She said she wasn’t feeling well and had Moose drop her off.”

  What? I pulled my phone from my purse to look at the screen and sure enough, there was a text from Mel saying Moose had brought her back. I expelled a breath of air, my cheeks deflating as I shoved the phone back in my bag. “Thank you for tonight,” I told her.

  “Anytime. I’m off to bed.” Her tired eyes dragged over Aidan on the couch once more before she retreated down the hall.

  Aidan was out cold. He looked enormous sprawled across the couch. His cheek was pressed against the cushion and a leg dangled off the side. His body took up every bit of the small sofa.

  I couldn’t explain why, and I didn’t want to think about it, but instead of heading downstairs, my feet took me to the spare bedroom. I opened the door and stole the blue quilt off his neatly made bed, inhaling Aidan’s scent the whole way back to the couch. His breaths were deep and heavy as I gently draped the quilt over him.

  As I walked away, a warm hand grabbed mine and I yelped. “Aidan!” My heart raced as he pulled me to him. I peered down, searching his face; his eyes were still shut tight. He lifted my hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to my open palm, causing a wave of heat to travel through my body.

  I stared blankly at him as he released me, then eyed my open hand. Never had I been kissed there before, and never did I imagine it would make me feel like it did—cherished, excited. He’d left a mark that could never be replaced.

  My eyes went back to those very lips that were slightly parted. “Thank . . . you.” The words staggered out quietly, but I heard them loud and clear.

  With a heavy pull on my heart, I went downstairs to sleep.

  Fifteen

  Dan

  “DAMN,” I GROANED, HOLDING a hand to my forehead. My eyes watered as I peeled each lid open. A loud noise pounded, squeezing my brain tighter. I massaged my head as I searched for the source. Another loud bang boomed from the kitchen and a then a voice I recognized cursed. Cassie was in the kitchen.

  “Can you please stop banging the pans?” I asked.

  “Aww, does someone have a hangover?” Her voice wasn’t sweet. Not. At. All.

  I cringed. “Yeah.” My head throbbed from my forehead to the back of my skull. Drills and hammers would have felt better against my head than the pounding going on inside of it.

  She appeared in front of me, handing me a glass of water and two pills, wearing a scowl on her face. “Advil, water, and coffee. You’re going to have a rough day.” No sympathy there.

  “Thanks.” I covered my pulsating head as my eyes adjusted to the daylight. Fuck. “How much did I drink?”

  “Enough,” she spit.

  I popped the pills in my mouth, chased them with water, and stared at her as I gulped a few more sips. She wore a pair of snug workout pants and a tee, her hair up on her head, all messy. It was seriously cute. I liked this laid-back look on Cassandra.

  Without a word, she took the empty glass and headed back to the kitchen. Yep, she was pissed.

  Slowly, I lifted from the couch and headed her way. “Smells good.” I inhaled the scent of bacon and eggs, then stopped to stare; I couldn’t help it. Watching her move around the kitchen and cooking breakfast as if it were second nature brought back memories of Jase doing the same thing.

  “What?” she asked, her voice apprehensive.

  I flashed her a weak grin. “Nothing, just watching you reminded me of Jase, that’s all.” The cute little tug on her lips disappeared as the last of my words seeped out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring him up.”

  She fixated on the pan in front of her. “The last time I was here, he made me breakfast.”

  “What did he make?” I leaned against the counter.

  Her eyes traveled to the ceiling and her teeth clasped her bottom lip before she answered. “So much stuff. We had our own little buffet right at that table.” She pointed at it.

  “That sounds like Jase.” I laughed, fighting past the headache because damn, it was good talking to her. Her smile had finally resurfaced. “He definitely loved his breakfast, that’s for sure. So what are you making over there?” I popped my brows as I glanced at the stove.

  “Everything,” she said, her petite frame sighing. “Coffee’s on the table.”

  “Thanks.” I grabbed a mug and filled it. No creamer, no sugar, just plain old black coffee. I sipped on it. “Where are Mom and Dad?” I asked, setting the mug down on the counter.

  She scrambled eggs in the pan as she answered, “They had a few places to go and then they were going to the diner. Clearly they didn’t trust my cooking.” A little giggle left her lips.

  I wasn’t entirely sure I trusted her cooking either, but I wasn’t about to say anything. The sounds of a baby grabbed my attention. I sauntered over to the family room and sat by the swing. It was the first time I’d really gotten a chance to look at Jase and see what everyone else had been gushing about.

  He was freaking adorable. His chubby cheeks and the little curl on his head had me smiling. I decided what the hell and picked him up. Holding him against me, I stared down at his miniature features. A bit of drool slipped out of his mouth and I grinned. “Hey, Jase.” My voice trailed and something inside struck hard.

  “What’s wrong?” Cassie asked, making her way toward us.

  I realized my forehead had wrinkled and my lips had gone flat. I shook my head and relaxed my features. “Just calling someone Jase again.” I rubbed his fuzzy head. “It’s bittersweet.”

  “I know.” Her smile faded for a second until I got a huge grin out of Jase.

  “He makes a perfect Jase.” I wasn’t sure, but the mention of his name had him grinning again, as if he knew what a great name he had. “And look at this blonde hair. You look just like your momma.”

  A shy smile spread across her face. “I can take him.” She reached both hands out.

  I shook my sore head. “I’ve got him.” His body heated my chest and his drool was almost out of control, but I didn’t even care. Something about holding him . . . I didn’t want to let go. “You worry too much.”

  “So I’ve been told,” she said. Her eyes widened as she glanced at the stove, where a pot was hissing.

  Now I was really afraid of what she was cooking. “Where’s Melanie?” I asked.

  She sighed heavily. “Sleeping. I think she had a rough night too.”

  “Well I’m shocked she’s still sleeping with all the noise you’re making up here,” I teased. No wonder my parents left.

  “I’m still getting the hang of this cooking stuff, okay?” She seemed flustered. She scratched her head making her hair appear even messier.

  “I’d step in, but breakfast was something I never mastered,” I admitted.

  “I’ve got it. A few things might be a little well done, but I think I’ve got it,” she said, sounding not so sure of herself. She cringed and then left me, heading back into the kitchen.

  “Well done as in burned?” I called out over my shoulder. I laughed, strolling over to set Jase back in his swing. My chest pulled a little tighter as I buckled him in and left. This feeling was way too new for me.

  I strode to the kitchen counter, grabbed my coffee, and took a few more sips, watching her stare hopelessly at the stove. I shook my head, set my mug back down, and decided to help the
girl out.

  I stood a few inches away from her and fought back a grin as she peered up at me. “Okay, what do we have going on . . . here,” I asked, eyeing the blackened pancakes. “Well, those might have to be scrapped, but the eggs look great.”

  She tried to fight her laughter, but eventually gave in. “I, uh . . . I tried.”

  I held onto the counter beside me and twisted to face her. She bit her lip as my gaze held hers. “What’s with all the cooking, Cassie?” I asked. Why was she doing this if she obviously wasn’t good at it?

  Her weight shifted and her features softened. She released her lip as a heavy sigh escaped between them. “It’s my way of saying I’m sorry.”

  My eyes narrowed. “For what?”

  She fiddled with the hem of her tank top. “Do you not remember anything from last night?”

  Of course I did. How could a man forget a night like that? Bits and pieces were blurrier than others, but I remembered.

  It was a night that had me ready to scoop her in my arms and take her right then. A night that had me confused as hell with my ex showing up, with Cassandra taking care of me, with her speech at the end of the night fucking shredding my heart, making me realize that the things I did hurt her even more.

  She’d wiped a tear from my eye, and the only way I could thank her for helping me was to press a kiss to her a palm. Something I’d have done whether I was drunk or not. I may have been wasted, but a man could never forget a thing that happened when Cassandra was around.

  “No, what’d I miss?” I blinked a few times. There was no way I could bring myself to admit I remembered. I wanted her to tell me what I did wrong.

  She moved a step back, her hands continuing to assault her top. “Do you remember us dancing?”

  I smiled like an idiot. “How could I forget?”

  Her cheeks reddened. So she wasn’t insanely pissed like I first thought. Good to know.

  She released her shirt and pierced me with her beautiful gold-flecked eyes. “You said something to me that I wish you hadn’t. But you didn’t know and I was wrong to get upset like I did without at least explaining to you.”

 

‹ Prev