Page 19 of Coastal Runaway

I crawled out of bed, wincing when I glanced in the mirror. I looked rough. My hair was glued to my forehead and I probably couldn’t run a brush through it if I tried. I was wearing boxer shorts and a t-shirt that I’ve had for years. It was three sizes too big and probably once belonged to Nolan or Aiden if I had to guess.

I made my way down to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee—the nectar of the gods. I stood leaning against the counter while it brewed, the smell already lifting my spirits, when I heard the front door open and shut.

A moment later Luke came walking into the kitchen and I froze.

Fuck.

He clearly didn’t see me standing there because he only had on a pair of athletic shorts. No shirt. His ear buds were still blasting music indicating he had just gotten back from a run. He put his arms above his head, his back to me, and stretched. Every one of his back muscles strained as he pushed his arms up. Look, I may have hated him, but the man was undeniably cut. He’d grown into his body in the most delicious way.

I could still feel the way he commanded my body three years ago. The way I did literally anything that he told me to do, and learned that I have a thing for being submissive.

But only with him.

Every other guy who tried telling me what to do in bed was faced with attitude and snark. Luke took my snark and turned it into a sexy little game that only the two of us knew how to play. It was only one night, but it never felt like that with anyone else. I didn’t know if it was the alcohol or my body craving true pleasure, but my eyes stayed locked on his body.

“Fuck, I didn’t see you there.” Luke pulled out his headphones and gave me a tentative wave. “How are you feeling, champ?”

“Like I drank too much and made an ass of myself,” I said as the coffee machine beeped. I turned to pour myself a cup.

Luke came up next to me and leaned on the counter, “yeah, you said some interesting things last night.”

I stopped mid-sip of my coffee and slowly turned to look at his smug little face. I didn’t remember much after he hauled me out of Maggie’s apartment.

Luke leaned down, I could feel his hot breath on my neck when he said, “I think I’m fire too, Ice Queen.”

I scoffed, “I definitely did not say that, my followers did,” I think, “and Ice Queen? That's a new one.”

I rolled my eyes. It was like every time I started to feel anything other than hatred towards the man, he reminded me of how much he infuriated me.

He laughed, “not really, Nolan, and I have called you that ever since you disappeared and gave us the cold shoulder.” He shrugged and started backing out of the kitchen.

“I never gave Nolan the cold shoulder, that was reserved only for you.” I fluttered my lashes and gave him a sweet smile. The look he gave me reflected something between sadness and hurt, like my feelings towards him weren’t justified. Then he quickly put on his charming smile, practically morphing his face to show he was unaffected by me.

As he left the kitchen he paused and said, “whatever helps you sleep at night, Tig. Oh, and by the way,” he winked, “you look good in my shirt.” He left me standing there with my jaw on the floor.

eight

Luke

My father wasn’t thrilled about my average grades at Columbia, and he was even less thrilled that I would degrade myself by transferring to a school that wasn’t an Ivy League. Not that he called to tell me that, but I could tell by the lack of response to my email that he wasn’t pleased.

Yes. Email.

He was currently on a three-month long honeymoon with his newest twenty-five year old wife and often didn’t have cell service. At least, I told myself that’s why he didn't call.

You would have thought that the Chief Financial Officer of a leading company in the tech industry would have needed to be more available, but I guess not.

I learned at a young age that my father would never show love the way that Mr. Kelly loved his children. He grew up on the Upper East side in New York where old money spoke louder than words, and love was shown by paving the path to a successful future.

To Sean Cavan, you were only worth the power that you held and the dollar signs in your bank account. He refused to even invest in KavTech unless the company was partially named after him—the company's success had to be a brand of the Cavan name.

I had to push myself to be successful knowing that I would never make him proud. I thought that he would break a smile when he learned that my post-college plans included applying to law school, but instead I got a lecture about carrying on the Cavan name by taking a junior leadership role at the east coast KavTech offices.

He insinuated that the Kelly’s didn’t have the killer instincts that it would take to make the correct financial decisions for the company.

I told him that my plans weren’t solidified just so he would leave me alone. That seemed to appease him for the time being but I knew that it was going to be a fight when graduation came.

On Sunday, I found myself seated at the huge dining table in Mr. Kelly's mansion in the Hollywood Hills. With the majority of his kids in the area, Mr. Kelly hosted dinner every Sunday that he was in town.