“I have an important dinner tonight. Can it wait?” I ask hopefully.
Kyle laughs roughly. “If it could, would I be calling you?”
He’s closest with my sister, Kayla, and likely always calls her first. She was the one to play second mother to him when they were little. As they got older, he became Kayla’s protector. Thankfully, he didn’t take her along on any of his paths to hell. At least that I know of. But they forged a connection that’s beyond what any of the rest of us siblings have.
“Fair point. I’ll be there in fifteen, but it needs to be quick. I can’t be late, not for anything,” I warn.
I hear Kyle sigh, and the line goes dead.
“What’s that about?” Luna asks curiously.
Kyle’s drama seems to have drawn her attention away from the window, at least, but we don’t share family secrets, and despite Luna being my ‘wife’ for this occasion, I can’t reveal too much. Not that I know anything in this particular situation.
“With Kyle, honestly, there’s no telling. He might need money or he might want to show me his new motorcycle, or anything in between. He’s . . . unpredictable.” That’s not enough to describe Kyle, but it’ll work as a warning for the few minutes Luna will be around him.
Luna lifts her brows as she comments, “Is that the worst thing someone could be in your world?”
“No,” I argue, “but you don’t know him. He’s always going off on tangents and wild goose chases. It isn’t a healthy way to live.” I’m hoping Luna can read between the lines a bit, but she takes me literally.
“Says you. Did you appoint yourself chief decision maker on how everyone else should live their lives? Because if so, you should probably rethink that,” she says matter-of-factly. Her fire is back in full-force, and though it’s exciting, I wish it wasn’t directed at cutting me off at the knees.
I shove my hand through my hair in frustration. “Fuck, you’re probably right, but that doesn’t change where we’re going or what we’re doing.” I solidify the declaration by pressing the pedal down, speeding toward Kyle’s, as Luna resumes staring out the window.
I pull into Kyle’s in record time to find him in the driveway tinkering with his motorcycle. I bite back the snarky comment that tries to escape, but Luna has no such desire.
“That’s your brother? He doesn’t look anything like you.” She’s leaning forward like getting four inches closer to the windshield will let her get a better view of Kyle, who’s wearing low-slung jeans, thick-soled boots, and no shirt, leaving his nipple piercings quite visible. Before I know what’s happening, I stick my arm in front of her and press her back to the seat. If we’d been coming to a sudden jolting stop in traffic, it would’ve been perfectly normal. But at a standstill in Kyle’s driveway, it’s definitely not and Luna looks at me in shock. “What was that for?”
“Saving you from yourself,” I explain. “Kyle doesn’t look like the rest of us because he’s nothing like us. It’s not only that he’s unpredictable, he’s—”
“Hot?” Luna suggests softly.
Jealousy rears up inside my gut. Luna’s not mine beyond this play act tonight, but I don’t like her lusting after my brother. Especially one who is my polar opposite, though I’m not going to examine why that in particular bothers me.
I glance out the windshield myself. I know that Kyle is attractive. He’s a Harrington, with all the genetic benefits that implies. But instead of the dirty blonde and blue-eyed, tall and lean-muscled version the rest of my brothers grew into, Kyle is shorter, wider with muscle, and has darker hair that he keeps long and messy. Though he has blue eyes, they’re not the deep blue the rest of us have but rather an icy blue.
But the true difference is in presence. We’re mostly cultured, having grown up with Dad’s expectations of what being a Harrington means. Kyle skipped all that, officially left home at eighteen, though he'd been gone long before that, and he lives a life filled with grease, motor oil, and roughness for no reason that I’ve ever been able to discern.
He’s every girl’s dream bad boy . . . except that he’s actually bad.
That Luna finds that the least bit attractive irks me. “You can put your tongue back in your mouth. He probably still has last night’s frosted flakes on his dick.”
“Huh?” Luna looks at me in surprise, then waves her hands. “Never mind, I don’t want to know, and if I do, I’ll ask Samantha. Not you.”
Shit. I guess that was a bit crass, but it was the jealousy talking.
“Sorry. Stay here. I’ll see what the big emergency is,” I tell her brusquely as I open my door. “Hey, man, what’s up?” I say to Kyle by way of greeting. “Like I said, I’m in a rush.”
“Yeah, yeah . . . you’re always in a rush. I have a life too, you know.” He’s risen to his full height, which puts him at six feet, still a couple of inches shorter than me, but with his arms crossed over his chest, he looks ready to take me on, especially given that I’m in my nicest gray suit for the dinner. “I need you to . . . whoa, well hellooo there.”
Kyle’s looking over my shoulder, and there’s only one thing he could be seeing. Luna.
“Hi, I’m Luna,” she says, and I can hear the . . . sweetness in her voice. I never get that, goddammit.
“I told you to stay in the car. This won’t take long.”
I don’t have to see her to know she’s doing something behind my back because Kyle is fighting a losing battle to hide a smirk. “Well, I guess I’m too unpredictable and don’t like being told what to do,” she challenges.
I turn to face her fully, and her bratty grin melts when she sees the thunder in my face. “We’ll see about that,” I warn.
“Hey, I’m Kyle. This guy bothering you?” Luna looks past me to Kyle but thankfully shakes her head.
“More like the other way around.”
I feel like I’m on the outside of whatever conversation they’re having, and somehow, the butt of the joke too. “What do you want? No time for shooting the shit.”
Kyle plops down onto his motorcycle sideways, his feet spread out to brace himself. “The two of you are going to dinner? No offense, Luna, but you’re not his usual type.”
She laughs, and that hurts. “I know. I have a brain, my own boobs and nose, and this is . . .” She looks around as if someone might overhear her revealing a deep secret. “My natural hair color.”
She flips her brown curls over her shoulder dramatically, and Kyle’s deep chuckle pisses me off, but not nearly as much as Luna talking shit about who I typically date. “It’s not like I only date blonde bimbos.”
“Of course not, dear,” Luna says in a patronizing tone, patting my arm before she flashes a conspiring look to Kyle.
Kyle grins. “Ooh, I like this one, Carter. Are you sure you can handle her? If not, I could take her off your hands and show her a good time.” He licks his lips, running his thumb over his bottom one as he leers at Luna.
Luna turns her fire on Kyle, rolling her eyes as she says, “For all his audacity, you’re an arrogant asshole. Neither are exactly sexy. To me, at least.”