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No.

She wouldn’t.

Would she?

I had to be misreading what was happening. Right?

Kenna, finally making up her mind, walked to Brock’s door.

Oh, hell no.

She grew nearer, and I could make out the hesitation on her features.

What should I do? I wanted to leap out and bust her ass.

She stopped in front of his room.

I trusted Brock, didn’t I? No way this was an arranged meeting. He wouldn’t. But it was the uncertainty that had me staying in the bathroom, hidden in the darkness. I wanted to trust Brock. I really did, but I came from a world where trust meant little.

Kenna lifted her hand, pausing just short of rapping her knuckles on the wood. Her gaze shot down to the doorknob as she sucked in her lower lip. Was she seriously considering letting herself in? Would I let her?

Luckily for both of us, we didn’t have to find out. Decision made, she softly knocked on the door. If Brock was asleep, I doubt it would have been loud enough to wake him up. She shifted her weight, fidgeting with a bracelet on her wrist, the one I noticed she never took off.

She was nervous, another sign that made me think this wasn’t a preplanned meeting. Quicker than I anticipated, the bedroom door swung open. “I almost thought—” Brock’s voice cut off when he saw who was standing outside his door. Shirtless, his golden abs were a welcomed sight. From my hiding spot, I had to stifle a moan, my nails curling against the bathroom doorframe. It took me a moment before my eyes appreciated the rest of him, getting completely hung up on the sight of his lower belly and the way the borrowed sweatpants rested on his hips. Holy shit, did he wear them well. His dark hair was in a messy array and only tangled more as he forked a hand through the strands, leaning against the doorway.

“Kenna,” he murmured, eyes narrowed, a flicker of alarm ringed around the edges. “Is something wrong? Is it Mads?”

From this angle, I couldn’t see Kenna’s face. Her back was to me, but she shook her head. “No, she’s fine as far as I know. I just couldn’t sleep.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s expected. I doubt any of us will get much sleep tonight.”

“I don’t want to be alone.” Her manipulative tone sent a chill into my bones. Could he not hear it?

Clarity darkened his eyes, as he understood why she had come to him. “That is not going to happen, Kenna. You know that I’m with Josie.”

“She doesn’t have to know,” she said softly.

My mouth fell open. This bitch. She did not just suggest that Brock lie to me.

“Just like old times,” she added, and although I couldn’t see her face, I knew damn well that she had put on that naive, seductive grin that probably had most guys kissing her feet.

But not Brock. “Look, I get things got blurry for you in the past, but I thought I made it clear before you left. There is nothing between us.”

“But that was because I was Grayson’s sister. You clearly don’t have a problem with it now.”

Brock’s lips remained turned down, but I caught the flicker of impatience in his eyes. “Situation is different.”

Kenna’s chin lifted in the air. “How? Because she was abducted as a baby? She is still our sister.”

“Different in you’re not Josie. I love her.” His delivery was harsh, but I didn’t see any other way to make Kenna understand.

“And you don’t love me.” Her voice hitched, and I could hear she was close to crying. “What makes her so damn special? I used to be the one you guys protected. You went so far as to make the world think we were dating,” she reminded.

A muscle popped in his jaw. “At the time, I thought it would be enough to keep you safe. It wasn’t. If you’re that afraid to be alone, go knock on Josie’s door. I’m sure she could use the company.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that, Brock Taylor? I wish I had never set eyes on you.”

“You and every girl at school probably wishes the same,” he retorted, his face the epitome of cool and collected.


Tags: J.L. Weil Elite of Elmwood Romance