4
Kit
Broken
Act casual.
Be cool.
Iz is on her way… minus Ben.
This would no doubt be good news for the group, but I’m not stirring a hornet’s nest before she even arrives.
Act causal.
Don’t let Bobby know.
Impossible, since he’s always so attuned to me. It’s like he prides himself on knowing me inside and out, knowing my moods better than I do. Like he wants to know me so well that he can predict my moods and always have the ice-cream ready.
Any other day, I’d think it was sweet as hell, but right now, I’d rather he was talking to Aiden about the fight. But he doesn’t. He’d rather spend his time fingering the ends of my hair and pressing his lips to my forehead. He’d rather spend his time stroking his fingers along my thigh and playing his own game of‘what’s she thinking?’
But one thing Bobby can’t dredge from my mind, something none of the brothers seem to have figured out yet, is that Jimmy is into Iz.
And Iz is into Jimmy.
Jimmy thinks I don’t see him watching for her to arrive. He thinks I don’t notice the way he watches her everywhere she goes, or the way he’ll start working out in the same room at the same time as her.
He’s not showing off for her. They’ve been training together since they were little, so him working out in front of her now would be about as impressive as Bobby taking a coffee mug from the cupboard. He doesn’t follow her to impress her, but to spend time with her. Even if the time spent is completely silent because she has headphones in and the music up loud.
They like each other, so why the charade? Why aren’t they together? If they like each other, why is she dating this other guy? Why’s she bringing him home to meet the family?
To make Jimmy jealous? Why? He likes her, too. Just date each other!
Don’t bring some poor guy here to be verbally slaughtered by a group of overprotective brothers when she and I both know, the man she wants is already here.
Headlights illuminate the front of the house, so I climb off Bobby’s lap as casually as I can.Act casual. Be cool.I throw a fast glance back to Tink as I walk out of the kitchen, and I head to the front door and swing it open. I want to intercept Iz before the guys can.
I step onto the front porch into the early evening warmth. The sun is gone, but the summer heat still lingers in the air and has me sweating as soon as I walk out of the air-conditioned house. Iz sits in her switched off car and fusses with her face in the mirror. Tink meets me on the porch, and still, Iz procrastinates and readjusts every mirror and seat in the car.
“Isabelle.” I wait for her red eyes to meet mine. “Come in now. I have boob sweat. Don’t make me stay out for long.”
She snickers sadly and collects her things. Pushing open the door and climbing out, she brings a bag of ice-cream bars with her and drags her feet along the path.
I can’t let her into the kitchen like this.
We need ten minutes in the bedroom to let her chill the hell out before she has to face the guys. “Hey.” I take the bag and pass it to Tink. “Can you put these in the freezer? We’re going upstairs first. Girl time.”
She nods and leads us back into the house. We split off as Tink heads toward the kitchen, and I drag Iz up the stairs and into the dark spare room.
I get that Iz is the guys’ sister. I get that she was theirs first, but she’s one of us now. She’s my sister now, separate from the Kincaid men, and if Tink and I have to protect her, even from them, then that’s what we’ll do.
I flip the light on and lie back on the bed. It’s so friggin hot, it’s like breathing water. As soon as Tink walks in the door with a couple cans of soda in her hands and passes them out, she flops down onto the bed beside me and pulls Iz down. “Alright. Talk, baby girl. What’s got you so sad?”
“I shouldn’t have come here tonight.” She lays back to appear lazy, but I know it’s because she doesn’t want to look us in the eye. “I don’t want to worry you guys, and I don’t want to listen to my brothers talk shit. I should’ve stayed home.”
I roll my eyes and press the cold can to my forehead. “Don’t worry about them. They’re just being overprotective bears, but they mean well. They won’t say anything if you give it to them straight. Tell them to shut their pie holes or you’re leaving. They’ll shut up.” I turn to her. “They don’t mean to be the way they are, Izzy. They’re just trying to protect you.”
“What happened?” Tink asks again. On a surface level, Casey Irvine comes across as loud and sassy, and maybe even pushy and nosey, but inside, she’s one of the best people I know. She’s been my rock since we were little.