I must be invisible.
“You eat pasta for breakfast?” The words fly out of my mouth unfiltered.
Kyler places the bowl in the microwave and switches it on. Slowly, he turns and faces me. He replies without even looking at me. “I’m in training.” The words sound begrudging as they leave his mouth, and that’s obviously all I’m getting.
“Training for what?”
Pouring a large glass of juice, he knocks it back in one go. His throat works hard as he swallows, and even that is sexy. He eyeballs me without replying. After a couple of seconds, I force myself to look away, pulling my legs back in under the table.
The guy is an ignorant ass.
“You heading to the track?” Keaton asks him.
“Yep,” is Kyler’s succinct response.
My brows knit together. Keaton notices, and he takes pity on me. “Ky is a serious dirt bike rider. He almost made pro last season. You’ll notice how dedicated he is when it comes to exercise and nutrition.”
Kyler slams his bowl down on the table as he slides into place beside his brother. “Keaton.” With that one word, he silences his little bro.
“Dad says you’re into swimming?” Keaton asks, deliberately changing the subject.
Kyler keeps his head down, wolfing his pasta, as he deliberately avoids engaging in our conversation.
“Yeah. At one point, I was serious about it as a sport, but”—I stop, well aware of the reasons why I gave up that ambition—“I guess I outgrew it,” I lie.
Kyler lifts his chin and stares at me. I plant my poker face on and wait it out. Sure enough, he relinquishes his interest when he sees I’m giving nothing away. When he’s finished eating, he gets up, snatching a bottle of water before he leaves.
I release the breath I’d been holding.
“Friendly, isn’t he?” Keaton jokes.
I only contemplate responding after his footsteps fade. “Is he always that intimidating?”
He releases an amused laugh. “For as long as I can remember, he’s rocked that mean and moody vibe but not to the same extent. Addison did a real number on him. He’s shut himself off from pretty much everyone. Now he lives for motocross and that’s about it.”
That’s the second time that girl has been mentioned. Judging by the comments, I’m guessing she’s an ex.
As if on cue, the roar of an engine tickles my eardrums, and I watch as Kyler emerges from the garage at high speed. The bike swerves from side to side as he expertly maneuvers it down the driveway and out of sight.
“Wanna head into town for a tour?” Keaton asks, his eyes lighting up.
“Sure. That sounds great.”
He jumps up, grinning. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten.”
I start loading our dishes into the dishwasher as a petite woman with neat gray hair enters the kitchen. “You must be Faye?” She smiles warmly.
“I’m Greta. I work for the Kennedys. It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Go on.” She shoos me away. “Unless you want my job?” Her teasing tone is kind.
I’m walking through the lobby when the doorbell rings. I open the door without hesitation and clock the stunner standing on the doorstep. She perfectly represents my vision of the all-American sweetheart. Her golden locks cascade down her back in flawless straight lines. Her slim figure is clothed in a short white mini-dress that displays her tan skin to perfection. Although she’s slender, curves flow in and out of her body in all the right places. Her lips are plump as they pull back in a sweet smile. Brilliant white teeth beam at me.
I hate her instantly.
I can’t quite explain it.
I can count on one hand the number of people I’ve taken an instant dislike to, and this girl is one of them.
And it’s not because she’s my polar opposite—I don’t like the vibes she’s emitting. Oh, she might look like butter wouldn’t melt, but there’s a viper hidden underneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to strike.
My guard goes up immediately.
“Oh, you’re new,” she says flippantly. “I’m here for Kyler.”
“He’s not here, Addison.” Keaton shows up, placing a protective arm around my shoulders. “And even if he was, you know he’d tell you to get lost.” Malice is evident in his tone.
Addison’s alert green eyes assess the situation. “Getting it on with the help now, Keaton? That’s low. Even for you.”
Keaton drills her with a contemptuous look. “This is our Irish cousin. She’s living with us now. Better get used to her face because she’s all anyone’s going to be talking about at Old Colonial.”
Addison’s eyes narrow suspiciously, as she takes in my outfit. The viper starts to raise its ugly head. Internally, I bristle at the obvious look of disgust on her face, but outwardly, I’m Switzerland.
“My bad. It’s unusual to see a Kennedy so”—she taps a manicured finger off her bottom lip—“casually dressed.”
What a nasty bitch.
“And it’s unusual to see you with your clothes on,” Keaton bites back. “So I guess that makes you even. Was there anything else?” He moves to close the door.
“Tell Kyler I called.”
“Bye, Addison.” Keaton slams the door in her face, and I laugh.
“Holy crap.” I lean against the side of the door. “They’re all going to be like that, aren’t they?”
His look is apologetic again. “Pretty much.”
“Oh, joy. I can hardly wait.”