“Kaden,” I warn, my voice level. “Don’t.”
His gaze flickers to me for the first time since he started circling Dylan. There’s amusement glowing in his features. “Relax,” he murmurs. “We’re just talking.”
“No,” Dad snaps loudly. “You’re provoking.”
Mom’s eyes are wide as they ping pong between both men, squaring off. Her hand trembles with nerves beside her plate as the overhead chandelier becomes too bright.
Dylan straightens in his chair, his full attention centered on Kaden. “You want to do this?” He asks evenly. “Then let’s do this.”
My brother’s smile deepens in victory.
I grab my finacé‘s leg under the table, my fingers biting into his jeans so tightly that I can feel his blood rushing.
“Kaden,” I warn again.
They’re two live wires, both ready to strike.
“Ask him where he was two days ago,” Kaden urges, his brows lifting.
Dylan’s hands slam down on the table as he pushes out of his chair so fast it topples to the ground. I jump, my eyes widening as my fiancé points a finger across the table. “I was in fucking California taking care of business. Where the fuck have you been for six years?! Huh?”
“That’s enough!” Dad shouts, standing. “Dinner is over.”
Kaden’s words strike a chorddeepinside of me.
Ask him where he was two days ago.
How would my brother know where Dylan was? Why would he bring it up now? And why is Dylan being so defensive about it?
Kaden rises, groaning as he tosses his napkin aside. “The food was great, Melody. Dylan, amazing talk. It really helped get some things off my chest.”
“I’m going tofuckingkill you,” Dylan hisses, his fists balled by his sides.
Kaden barks a laugh. “Someone keep this guy away from the knives. You’re a riot.”
“That’s it,” Dad bites. “Everyone, go to bed before someone flips the god damned table.”
“No one is flipping my table,” Mom cuts in with a stern glare. “Kaden, go to the living room. Dylan, go upstairs.” My fiancé tries to protest before her head whips around to him, and her eyes narrow. “NOW!”
Kaden saunters over to the couch, his shoulders shaking as he tucks his hands behind his head and faces away from us. He thinks this isfunny.
Dylan sighs, picking up his chair before sliding it back in and trudging up the steps. The moment the door slams, Kaden turns around, opening his mouth.
“Don’t,” Mom warns.
His lips roll in as he nods.
Dad stares at the table before running a hand through his greying hair. “I can’t take anymore tonight. My blood pressure is through the roof.”
Mom places a gentle hand on his shoulder as the other rubs his back. “Let’s just get some sleep. Everyone will be much better in the morning.”
I collect the plates as they retire upstairs, their feet dragging heavily. I can feel Kaden’s eyes on me as I dump the rest of the food and clean the kitchen. He doesn’t say anything, but something rests on the tip of my tongue.
I’m still thinking about what he said earlier…
“Kaden,” I call softly as I run my hands under the suds.
“Yeah, Sunny?”
