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“Well, whatever it is you’re doing, stop. I don’t need another brother.”
Pushing open the door, I narrowly miss smacking into an elderly man with a bright blue mask, skating around him and heading for the front of the building. Boyd’s hot on my heels, his fingers grasping at me as I increase my speed.
Shoving through the front doors, I rip the mask from my face and toss it to the ground, just as Boyd’s palm curls around my shoulder, the heat from his touch scorching against my bare skin. I whirl around, irritation coming back full force, and shake him off.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Fiona, I’m just trying to explain—”
“I’m not interested.”
Whipping my hair over my shoulder, I turn back around and start down the steps, heading toward my father’s silver Aston Martin. Kieran stands at the back passenger door, and I push him aside, yanking it open to reveal his unconscious conquest. I note the smeared lipstick around her mouth and the fingerprints on her neck, but I don’t ask because I truly don’t want to know.
Climbing in over her, I settle onto the seat beside her body, holding up a hand when Kieran glances at me quizzically. “No, I don’t want to talk about it. But you’d better tell your friend he needs to respect that he’s not my brother and back the hell off.”
Boyd stops at Kieran’s side, rolling his eyes. “Those theater lessons are really paying off, Fi. Dramatic as ever.”
My chest caves slightly at the insult—not because it’s untrue, but because he thinks he knows me well enough that he can toss it around the way my family does. As if proximity makes up for his emotional distance, and you can know someone just by being in the same room as them.
Kieran’s eyebrows furrow. “What happened?”
But I shake my head, unwilling to answer. Not wanting to relive any of the embarrassment, and because I’m not sure what he’d do if he knew his best friend was meddling in my romantic affairs.
Kieran doesn’t care about much, but something tells me he wouldn’t necessarily appreciate that.
I can feel Boyd’s gaze on me as I stare out the front windshield, Mel’s soft snores the sound I try to anchor myself to, and then my brother slams the door shut, barring me from the rest of the conversation.
