I stab my fork into Kyle’s loaded baked potato. Fuck low carb life. I don’t need anything reminding me of how that woman has turned my life upside down in the last week.
“Order your own damn potato!” Kyle reprimands as Dena shushes him.
“Would you quiet down? People are staring.”
“People are staring because we’re having dinner with the only celebrity within 100 miles of this town.”
“Oh, right,” she chuckles. “I keep forgetting that. So, Brick, what was up with you and Tre at the party the other night?”
“Nothing,” I lie. “Why do you ask?”
An uncertain look crosses Dena’s face. Maybe she’s wondering if she got it wrong.
“Tre’s cool people,” Kyle says. “You better be nice, Brick. Don’t bring that Hollywood crap home with you.”
“There’s nothing Hollywood about me, man. I’m just an offensive lineman who does his job and minds his business.”
“And who makes more money than we’ll ever see in a lifetime and dates reality stars,” Kyle adds. “I’m proud of you, my dude.”
“For dating a reality star?” Dena asks.
“Obviously not, babe.” Kyle wraps his arm around her neck, pulling her in for a sloppy kiss on the lips. “Brick would be lucky as hell if he ever found someone as half as good as you.”
“That’s better.” She smiles.
I frown as the realization hits me that I’ll never have this. I work in a field that lends itself to meeting fame whores and gold diggers. My chance of meeting my own version of a Dena is slim to none and I probably need to accept it.
“There she is.”
I turn my head towards the person Kyle is addressing and watch with rapt attention as Kaya enters the restaurant. She’s dressed in a black ski jacket and a pair of tight, dark wash jeans that flare a bit at the ankles. Her pouty lips have a layer of subtle pink gloss and she’s wearing some mascara, I think.
She looks effortlessly beautiful as she takes a moment to stand in front of us. We’re sitting at a booth and she has no choice but to sit next to me, but it’s obvious that she doesn’t want to. Hell, I don’t want her to either, because I don’t want to give Kyle even an inkling of an idea that I’m eyeballing his sister like a delicious snack.
He’d literally try to beat me to a pulp.
I try to look busy as I cut another piece of my T-Bone as Kaya slides into the booth next to me. Immediately, her soft floral scent slams against my senses and puts my dick on high alert. I try to think of something unpleasant to get it to go down and I’m so fucking happy that no one can tell just how uncomfortable I’m becoming underneath this table.
“Everybody ordered steak?” Kaya asks, looking across the table at everyone’s meals.
“It’s the best thing on the menu,” Dena says. “We ordered already because we weren’t sure what time you were going to make it.”
“No worries.”
“Elijah couldn’t make it?” Dena asks.
I watch as a look passes between Kyle and Dena that I can’t totally read, but I figure, based on my chat with Tre, that it has something to do with Kyle’s dislike for her boyfriend.
“No, he’s busy tonight.”
“Is he going to make it to the wedding?” she asks. “I have him seated at your mom’s table and then I have to give a count for the boat excursion–”
“We can make the necessary adjustments if he can’t attend,” Kyles says with a tone of finality that lets everyone know that we should probably move on to another topic.
“So, besides the other night, when’s the last time you two saw each other?” Dena asks changing the subject.
“Hmm, I’m not sure,” Kaya answers.
“That’s funny. I remember it like it was yesterday.”
