But my thoughts are stuck on Kay.
Dean picks up the pen and signs. He's in the chair next to me.
He hands it off to Walker. "You look cranky as fuck, Brendon."
Walker shoots him a drop it look.
I can practically hear Ryan rolling his eyes. "You ever shut the fuck up?" He looks to the lawyer sitting behind the desk. "Sorry."
"I've heard worse." The lawyer's voice is flat. Like he only cares about dollar signs and dotted lines.
Dean is fucking annoying.
But he's right.
I should be over the moon.
I shouldn't be thinking about all that desire in Kay's eyes.
I've had half a day to get over it, but I haven't.
I've thought about Kay a million times, but I always knew it was a fantasy. That I wouldn't throw her on the bed and split her in half. That I wouldn't order her onto her knees and fuck that pretty pink mouth. That I wouldn't slam her against the wall and fuck her hard enough to leave bruises on her cheek.
But I could.
She knows every dirty thing I want to do to her.
And she wants that too.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Kaylee
I don't go home after school.
I go straight to the shop.
Park my bike at the rack out front. Smooth my dress. Run my fingers through my hair. Switch from my prescription sunglasses to my regular glasses.
Brendon is in there somewhere.
I can handle looking him in the eyes.
Really, I can.
The bell rings as I pull the door open.
At once, the room quiets.
Conversations cease.
Tattoo guns stop buzzing.
Footsteps move into the lobby.
There's Ryan.
Walker.
Brendon. He's in the back. Leaning against the wall. Looking straight through me.
Leighton's blue eyes find mine. She tilts her head to one side. Mouths are you okay?
I nod a yes, even though it doesn't feel accurate.
"I just wanted to... uh..." I play with my backpack strap. "Give this back." I set Brendon's keys on the counter.
Leighton turns toward the brooding tattoo artist. "You want to grab those now, Brendon?"
"Yeah." His voice is even. Like he doesn't hate me. Like he doesn't feel anything toward me.
"Did you guys sign the paperwork?" I bite my lip. He hates me. I know it.
"Yeah. We did," he says.
"That's great. Congratulations."
He pushes off the wall. Takes a dozen steps toward the counter. Slides his keys into his pocket without looking at me.
It's like I don't exist.
His coldness is contagious. It sucks all the warmth from the room.
Walker steps forward. "Hey, Kay. You coming to our celebration?"
"Huh?" There's a celebration?
"For signing the paperwork. It's tonight. I know just the thing. It will be fun." He looks back to Brendon with a smile. "For all of us."
"You really step up when Dean isn't here," Ryan says.
"Do what I can." Walker turns to me. "It's my treat. Bring Emma too. And any other hot friends."
I shake my head. "I'd never sink that low."
He chuckles. "Fair enough." He smiles at Brendon. Then at me. "Tonight. Meet here at eight. Then we'll... well, it's a surprise."
"It's Walker, isn't it?" Emma pulls open a Vitamin C capsule and lets the powder fall into the glass below it.
"No." I bite my lip. That's a good lie. Maybe I should say it's Walker. Dean. Ryan even. Emma wouldn't try to make things happen with Ryan. I think.
"Hmm..." She opens another cap.
"That's enough." I motion to the dozen cellulose caps in the sink. Then to the glass filled with orange power.
"I don't want to do it again." She glances in the mirror, pushing now light purple hair behind her ear.
This is her third Vitamin C wash. For whatever reason, mixing vitamin C with your shampoo is a great way to gently fade color from hair.
After doing Emma's hair for the last few years, I'm an expert.
"One more," I bargain.
She nods. Cracks another capsule. Tosses its remains in the sink. Motions to the shower. "Will you?"
"Of course."
She pulls her bathrobe over her dress. Pushes the shower curtain aside, places a towel over the edge of the bathtub, then leans back. "Maybe Walker is into Leighton."
"Possible."
"But they don't have it. Something is up with him. And Brendon. He didn't come home last night. That's never happened before."
"Oh."
"Yeah. It's probably nothing. A date. But all he texted was—" She drops her voice two octaves to imitate Brendon. "Staying at Walker's place. I'll see you tomorrow." She moves back to her normal tone. "Like that's supposed to convince me he's not out getting laid."
"It's better that way. Or would you rather hear about his sex life?" I squeeze dandruff shampoo—another good way to fade hair color—into the glass and stir with a metal spoon. There. It's a nice pale orange.
"Yeah, that's true. But I'm still worried."
"It's probably nothing."
"You would know, I guess. You two have been hanging out a lot."
"Only because his work schedule aligns with mine and yours doesn't."
"Yeah. You... you like hanging out with him?"
"You don't?"
"I guess he's all right."
"He's good company." If he ever talks to me again.
She lifts her neck to look at me. "You haven't said anything about school."
"What's there to say?"
"Like you don't love every second of learning."
"I don't hate it." I move to the tub. Grab the handheld shower head and turn the water on. And test it against my palm. Too hot. I turn the cold.
"You. Love. It."
"Maybe."
"Just admit it."
"Okay. I love it." There. Perfect. I kneel next to Emma. "Lean back."
She does.
I focus on rinsing her hair. It makes it easier not to spill everything rising up in my throat.
"What about your grandma?" she asks. "Do you have any more info."
"Sort of. It's... it's not good, but they're not sure how not good."
"Fuck, I'm sorry."
"Thanks." My chest gets tight. I need less of that. "Can we talk about something else?"
"Okay." She's quiet for a while.
I rinse her hair.
She squirms as water hits her ears.
The silence is nice. Even if it's heavy with all sorts of unsaid things.
"I thought about this. More than I should have." She looks up at me. "All the guys you know are from work or school. All except the guys at Inked Hearts."
"Maybe."
"So, if it's not someone from work or school, it's Walker, Ryan, Dean, or Brendon." She cringes as her brother's name falls off her lips.