“I know. But I’ve learned the world isn’t a safe place. All those thousands of dollars in therapy really paid off,” Kenna retorted sarcastically.
Brock’s aqua eyes narrowed. “Grayson’s right.” His voice was tight.
Kenna tucked a loose strand of hair that had slipped out of her ponytail behind an ear, a touch of pink staining her cheeks. “Is that all you’re going to say to me?”
Mads rolled her eyes. “Some things never change. Brock is still elusive and mysterious.AndGrayson is still the asshole.”
My brother’s gaze narrowed at our cousin as he flicked her off.
She returned the gesture.
Brock Taylor was six feet plus of gorgeousness. It wasn’t just his striking eyes or the sharp angles of his jawline, but also the way he carried himself and commanded a room. Brock moved from my side, taking a few steps forward to give Kenna a quick hug. There was nothing romantic about it. He didn’t linger, and yet a flicker of jealousy lit inside me. “Welcome home, Kenna,” I heard him mutter.
A flash of disappointment went through her expression, and it made me wonder what exactly she had been expecting.
And why the fuck was this so awkward?
Of course, I had assumed meeting the third part of our triplet trio would be all kinds of weird, but I guess a part of me also believed or hoped that it would be a joyous reunion. Like we’d fling our arms around each other and cry, babble about always wanting a sister and shit.
It was clear that my meeting with Kenna would not be like that, and really, it was kind of naive of me to think it would have. She was a stranger to me. And me to her. Why would she trust me, especially after all she’d be through? Having her guard up was probably smart.
“You guys, this is a cause for celebration. All of the Edwards under one roof,” Micah announced, grabbing a random beer bottle off the console table and raising it in the air. “It’s time to fucking party!” And that was Micah in a nutshell, the platinum-haired playboy party animal of Elmwood Academy. But for those who knew him well enough, they would see that behind the light blue eyes, he wanted to be loved.
Just like me.
Micah and I shared that in common; he was just way better at covering up and suppressing all the hurt and pain.
Ironic that I did feel like crying, but for not the reasons I expected. I wasn’t even sure why. Maybe the night was just catching up to me, but I was all for Micah’s suggestion. I had to loosen up. “I definitely need a drink,” I muttered under my breath to no one in particular. An overwhelming feeling to drown out my emotions surged within me, and I just wanted to forget everything in a bottle of bourbon. But honestly, I wasn’t picky. Not at the moment. I’d take anything hard over ice. Jack Daniels. Tequila. Vodka. Just pass me a bottle.
Micah wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me up against his side. He smelled good. But then again, all four of them did in their unique way. “After the night you’ve had, Josie Jo, I’d say you earned one,” he said.
Brock scowled at his friend.
He wasn’t the only one who took notice of the ease between Micah and me. A lot had changed since Kenna left. The Elite didn’t bring just anyone into their fold, regardless of potential blood relation, and I could see she was curious just how I managed to become so close with the four guys.
This was turning out to be a fucking interesting night.
“I could use a drink too,” Kenna announced, surprising everyone, including me. She sent me a friendly smile as all eyes whipped to her.
“No,” Grayson snapped. “Not happening. Not tonight.”
“Who died and made you king?” Kenna bit back.
I snickered, which earned me a frown from the self-proclaimed king of Elmwood Academy. I ignored Brock and his fierce scowl.
“Shit, neither of you should be drinking,” Grayson said, including me into the mix. That was so not going to fly. He might boss Kenna around, but I didn’t give a flying fuck who he was. Brother or not.
I shot him a narrowed glare. “Since when did you become such a prude?”
This time Kenna snickered. “She has a point. You need to let loose, bro. It’s okay to not be a douchebag all the time.”
Grayson's expression twisted with lines of stubbornness as he forked a hand into his dark hair. “The two of you are not ganging up on me. That is not how this is going to work.”
I lifted a brow. “Really. Please tell me,bro. How is this going to work then?”
A couple of girls walked past us, eyeing Grayson, but he didn’t see them. “Easy. The two of you are going home. Now.”
“Grayson!” Kenna shrieked. “I’m not a child. I don’t need you to babysit me.”