Page 64 of Keeping Kyler
“I know, Ky. I understand that. I’m sorry. Truly, I am.” Brad hangs his head, and a dead weight presses down on my chest. This is unbearable.
Ky holds his head in his hands, exhaling loudly. “I need you to keep your distance from her.”
I open my mouth to protest but think better of it and shut it again. Brad has been a great friend to me, to both of us, and he’s hurting too. Shutting him out doesn’t feel like the right solution. I hate this. I really do, but I won’t add to Ky’s stress. If this is what he needs, then I’ll comply whether I agree or not.
The next morning, after the others leave for school, I spend over an hour in the pool, stretching my limbs until they ache deliciously. My thoughts turn to Brad, but they’re futile. There isn’t anything I can do to smooth things over, and as much as I hate that there’s no point getting depressed over it either. I wanted to help make things better for Brad, but I’ve only made things worse. I shouldn’t have meddled in the first place, but if it’s a choice between hurting Brad and protecting Ky, then there’s no decision to be made.
Makes me feel like the crappiest friend on the planet, but it is what it is.
Once I’m changed, I start tackling my studies and get stuck in. I’m a couple hours in when my phone rings. I pick it up and stare at the screen, debating whether or not to accept the call from Adam. No point in delaying the inevitable, I suppose. Mentally preparing myself, I press the button. “Hey.”
“Hi, Faye. Can you talk?”
I sit up on the bed, crossing my legs. “Sure. I was just studying, but I could use a break.”
“How is your week going?”Here we go.
“Grand. I’ve studied, swum, rearranged Brad’s room, and cooked up a Mexican feast last night.”
He latches on the one part of that conversation I didn’t expect him to. “You like to cook?”
“Yeah. Mum used to bake with me from a young age, and Dad always bought me a new cookbook on my birthday every year. I was always experimenting.”
“You’ll have to cook for me some time,” he suggests.
“Sure. Speaking of, James has proposed you could come here with your, ah, children so we could all meet?”
“It’s nice of him to offer, and I’m happy to do that if you are.” I can tell he’s making a huge effort to ease me into this and it goes a long way toward reassuring me.
“Okay. How about this weekend?”
“I think that’s workable. Leave it with me and I’ll come back to confirm.”
“Cool. I’ll need to double-check with James also.”
“Great.” I hear hushed voices in the background. “I need to head out for a client meeting, but I’ll message you later.”
“’Kay. Bye.”
I flop down on my bed, tossing my phone aside. Adam is actually pretty cool, I’ve got to admit. I thought he would lay into me for getting suspended from school, but it’s like we already have this unspoken agreement. He knows he can’t start acting all strict, and he isn’t even attempting to go there. I respect him so much more for that. But it’s still so surreal and that’s before I’ve even met my brothers and new sister. This weekend should be interesting, that’s for sure.
I’m in the kitchen fixing a chicken salad for lunch when the bell peals. I’m halfway to the lobby when the sounds of multiple visitors stepping inside distract me. Feet troop inside in droves, and I turn around, heading back to my prep. Alex wasn’t joking on Monday. This place has been like Grand Central Station all week. I hope whatever she has up her sleeve is going to stick it to Courtney once and for all. I’m totally rooting for my aunt in this showdown.
I eat my lunch alone in the kitchen, staring absently out the window at the rain sheeting down by the bucket full. I can’t wait until the weather turns. Despite the fact I grew up in Ireland—well accustomed to the rain and the cold—I hate winter. Spring is my favorite time of year, when the weather has turned warmer, and the evenings are brighter, and I can leave the house without the need for a thick coat. Plus, my mood is always more upbeat when the weather is perkier.
I clear away my lunch things and head back toward my room. A gust of cold air blasts me the minute I step into the lobby. The front door is wide open, granting full access to the elements. The floor by the door is wet from the pelting rain. Shaking my head and muttering under my breath, I close the door carefully and then retrieve the mop and bucket and soak up the excess water.
I’m responding to a message from Rach when I step into my room. My head is down, and my focus is fixed on the screen when the sounds of heated arguing reach my ears. I tuck my phone in the pocket of my jeans and set out in the direction of the raised voices.
I round the corner and slam to a halt, gasping at the two figures in front of me. The door to Alex’s office is wide open, and the men and women around the long table are watching the interactions in the corridor with keen intensity. My heart rate picks up as I stare into familiar grayish-green eyes. Courtney smirks over her shoulder at me.
“I won’t ask you again,” Alex demands, in a barely contained voice. “What the hell are you doing in my house?”
I’ve never heard her so rattled, and judging by the shell-shocked expressions on her colleague’s faces, neither have they.
Courtney runs a hand down the front of her skirt. “I’m here for the meeting,” she retorts coyly.
“Like hell you are. You weren’t invited and you aren’t welcome here. Leave or I’ll call Officer Hanks.” Alex straightens up, glaring at her arch nemesis.
