Page 10 of Finding Kyler
I’m not a fool. I don’t need to make any enemies at home because I’m sure I’ll have plenty of those once I rock on up to the high school. Yes, he’s in pain, and a part of me empathizes, but my bet is he lashes out at the world in a misguided attempt to feel better.
I’m not about to become his new punching bag.
A smart antagonist always knows when to back down.
I arch my back, standing tall. I’ll make it clear that I understand, but there’s no way I’m letting him think he’s intimidated me. Kyler is not going to walk all over me. I promised myself years ago that I wouldn’t be a pushover any more. It’s a mantra I’ve clung to, and I’m not about to regress. Especially not for a wanker like him.
So, I’ll stand down. For now.
“No touching the bikes. Got it.” My eyes widen automatically as I move aside, palms raised in a token gesture.
His lips pinch tightly as he nods, and the smug, smirking look from earlier is gone.
We have an understanding, of sorts.
I’ll pretend that I didn’t see that hidden dark void inside him, and he’ll keep quiet about the empty shell that exists in place of my heart.
Seems like a fair trade-off.
As Kyler strides out a side door, I twist my neck from side to side, trying to get my head on straight for the next meet-and-greet. James plants a gentle hand on my lower back and urges me forward. “I’m sorry about Kyler. That was rude, but he doesn’t mean it. He’s going through some stuff, so don’t take it personally.”
I’ll say, if that teeny glimpse is any indication. But I seal my lips as James leads me through a large utility room out into a narrow corridor. The sound of several voices chatting grows louder as we advance. I’m surprised, and a little uncomfortable, when James takes my hand and leads me into a vast open-plan kitchen and dining area. Floor-to-ceiling windows frame the room at the front, facing out onto the magnificent gardens.
All conversation mutes instantly, and eight heads fixate on me. I clasp James’s hand more firmly, previous discomfort forgotten. “Everyone,” he says, smiling warmly, “This is Faye.”
I do a quick scan of the room, and my eyes almost bug out at the sight of so much male hotness. Three near-identical-looking boys are seated on benches surrounding a long narrow table at one end of the room. They have the same dark hair and blue eyes as Kyler, but their faces are rounder and still a little babyish. The triplets, I’m guessing.
Two older boys are propped against one side of a long, wide island unit, eyeing me intensely. One of the boys straightens up, crossing his arms around his chest as he blatantly stares at me through almond-shaped blue eyes. Biceps bulge under the short sleeves of his shirt, and my eyes gravitate to the edge of the tattoo peeking out. His hair is longer than the others, but that messy bed-head look suits him.
Kyler is leaning back against a marble countertop, sporting an impressively blank expression. Another boy is at his side, blatantly checking me out. He’s a couple of inches shorter than Kyler and every bit as obnoxiously good-looking. He is wearing an unbuttoned black shirt and khaki shorts. Wide blue eyes lock on mine, and he winks. I lift a brow and his grin expands.
This gene pool is completely unfair to the rest of us mere mortals.
Add the obvious obscene wealth to the mix, and you have quite a heady combination. Girls must be crawling all over these dudes.
James squeezes my hand, and I refocus. Clearing my throat, I offer up a semi-confident smile. “Hi.”
A stunning blonde-haired woman steps forward to greet me. Wearing a figure-hugging black pants suit with a cream silk blouse and a string of pearls at her neck, she is the epitome of classic chic. Her short hair is styled into an edgy bob that works well with her heart-shaped face. Her pale blue eyes are carbon copies of Kyler’s.
“Oh my gosh, honey,” she says, smiling as she reels me in for a hug. “It’s so wonderful to meet you. I’m Alexandra Kennedy, but you can call me Alex.” I stand awkwardly in her embrace, conscious of the focused stares of her seven sons.
All eyes are on us.
She steps back, holding me at arm’s length. “Wow, I see my husband wasn’t exaggerating. You are stunning. Totally gorgeous.” Unease prickles my skin as she peruses my body. “Could you remove your sweater?”
Hello? WTF?
This family is so weird. With a capital W.
My eyes dart to hers as someone shouts out, “Now we’re talking.”
“Kalvin!” James reprimands his son, and a low chuckle rings out in the room.
“What?” I staple my arms over my chest, making my intent clear.
“Alex.” James’ tone is exasperated. “Leave the poor girl, alone. She only just got here!”
“Relax, sweetheart.” She pats my arm. “I’m only trying to gauge your dimensions so Courtney can organize your closet.”
