“Go big or go home,” Kent says, sauntering into the living room with a beer already in hand. He’s shirtless and shoeless, and I work hard to avoid ogling my boyfriend’s brother, but it’s hard because Kent is seriously ripped. Boy works out a lot, so I’m not surprised.
“You’ve got a fascination with all things big, huh?” I joke, accepting the bottle of water he offers me, while Keanu swipes his beer.
“She finally understands.” Kent faux rolls his eyes before winking. The second the bottle leaves Keanu’s lips, Kent steals it back. “Get your own beer, asshole.”
“Did someone say beer?” a strange male says, and I scream as a tall good-looking guy with blond hair steps into the room.
“It’s okay. Brad’s a friend,” Keanu says, instantly hauling me into his side, running his hand up and down my spine.
“Sorry,” Brad says, stepping sideways to let a gorgeous brunette into the room. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Looking sexy as fuck, Red,” Kent says, unashamedly eye-fucking the brunette.
“I’m convinced you have a death wish.” Brad shakes his head. “Quit hitting on my woman, or I’ll lay you flat on your ass.”
“I’d love to see you try,” Kent says, grabbing the brunette into his arms.
“Get your hand off my arse, Kent, or I’ll be the one laying you out flat.” The brunette pins him with a challenging look, and Kent grins like all his Sundays have come at once.
“I’ll get flat on my back for you anytime, Red.” He wiggles his brows. “You only have to ask.”
“Control your mongrel,” Brad says, spearing Keanu with a look. “Before I muzzle him.”
“Down, boy,” Keanu says, tugging Kent back. “Don’t tempt me to give McConaughey the green light.”
“What are you guys doing here anyway?” Kent asks, flipping his brother off.
“We’ve been in town for a couple days. Rachel had some meetings,” Brad says, slinging his arm around the woman’s waist. “Ky said it was okay to stay here, but we can check into a hotel if we’re in the way.”
“It’s cool, man,” Keanu says. “There are plenty of bedrooms.”
“Is that really the truth, Red?” Kent smirks at the woman who I assume is Rachel. “Or did you find out I was hitting New York for the weekend and you just had to be here.”
Rachel rolls her eyes, shucking out of Brad’s hold and walking toward us. “If your ego gets any bigger, you’ll orbit into space,” she says, shoulder-checking Kent as she makes a beeline for me.
He laughs. “There’s nothing wrong with my ego, Red. It’s just your eyes that need examining.” He wraps an arm around her from behind. “When are you going to ditch that pussy and date a real man?”
“My man is all man,” Rachel purrs, slanting lustful eyes at Brad. “We’d be happy to give you a demonstration anytime. You could use the pointers.”
“Now, I know you’re just yanking my chain,” Kent says as Brad grabs him into a headlock.
“That’s it. I’m throwing you off the balcony,” Brad jokes. Or at least, I think he’s joking.
“I’d like to say they’re not usually like this,” Rachel says, smiling at me. “But you’re living with Kent, so you get it.”
“She’s not living withKent!” Keanu protests, sulking, and I can’t help laughing.
“Oh, man. Don’t you start.” Rachel rolls her eyes, thrusting out her hand. “Hi, Selena. I’m Rachel.”
It all clicked into place when I heard their names. I know who they are. Rachel and Brad are best friends with Faye and Kyler, and Brad basically grew up with the Kennedys. Now, Rachel’s accent makes sense because I remember she’s Faye’s Irish friend. I’ve heard Keanu mention them over the years, but I’ve never met either of them.
“You’re the one who’s going to be working with Miranda.” Keanu told me about Rachel securing a much sought-after internship with Miranda Fanning. She’s moving to New York after graduating from design school in the summer, and Brad is moving with her.
“That’s me.” We shake hands briefly. “Miranda showed me some of the clothes she’s chosen for you to wear at the shoot tomorrow, and oh my God, they are amazing.” She enunciates the last word, rolling it off her tongue. “You’re going to look so hot in them!”
Her excitement is infectious, and I smile. “I can’t wait.”
Kent heads out to a party, having made plans to meet up with some girl he hooked up with the last time he was in New York. I really hope he steers clear of drugs tonight. Despite his protests, I worry it’ll extend beyond recreational use. That he’ll become addicted. Those bastards who kidnapped me spent years shooting shit into my veins and I’d become dependent. Getting clean was sheer hell, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
