“Oh my God! You’re Killian Axelrod!” she squealed in an unfamiliar, high-pitched voice. Her face turned red, and for once, it had nothing to do with Dad.
I cringed inwardly, but I should’ve expected this. She loved music, and she was never shy about hiding how she felt about her favorite celebrities. And I was certain her adoration wasn’t all that over-the-top compared to teenage fans Killian had dealt with. I’d heard complaints from Skye, who told me her teenaged daughter considered fangirling a matter of life or death.
“I’m your biggest fan,” Mom gushed. She lunged forward, grabbed his hand in both of hers and stared up at him like he was a rain cloud she’d found after days of wandering in the desert.
Killian smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Breckenridge.”
“Oh, no! Call me Abby.” She laughed and looped an arm through his. “I had no idea you lived in Kingstree.”
“Just visiting,” he said. “And…could this be our little secret? I don’t want any reporters or paparazzi showing up.”
“Of course. Like I said, I’m your biggest fan. I only want what’s best for you,” she said breathlessly.
It was awkward to watch my mom cling to a man I’d clung to just hours ago…even if the context was totally different. But at least she wasn’t so desolate over Dad anymore. That was a good thing, even if her fawning over Killian gave me an uncomfortable urge to look away.
“Are we going to have something other than carbs?” one of the Barbie Sextet said.
“He always has a lot of food options,” Devlin said, finally walking up to the rest of us. “Let’s go, babes.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Emily
The brunch turned into a madhouse. Killian’s place wasn’t big enough for so many people. Or so many egos and pouts and endless snapping of photos.
Mir walked in soon after and stared at the group like she couldn’t believe it. “Where did they come from?” she demanded. “I only got one tub of ice cream!”
“We don’t do ice cream,” Red said with a sniff. “It always turns into hips.”
“And belly,” Purple added.
“Hey, I can eat it,” Devlin said with a grin.
Mir shot him a look frigid enough to freeze water. “I said only one tub.”
“We can share, babe.” He grinned harder, but she ignored him, shoved Bouncy Bare Monkeys in the freezer and shut the door. Maybe he’d insulted her before. Probably called her work junk.
The number of people didn’t seem to bug Killian, who whipped up bacon, eggs and bagels for everyone. He ended up sitting between me and Mom, which was good, because it made her forget why she’d been crying on her way to Kingstree. Mir ended up directly opposite me and next to Devlin. She scowled and looked like she wanted to move, but all the other seats were occupied by the women.
The Sextet didn’t eat much. Just two strips of bacon each, like they’d already agreed on a menu beforehand. Then they took lots and lots of selfies with the bacon. I didn’t understand the obsession, but maybe with the right hashtags—#keto, #JustSayNoToHips, #NoCarb—they’d get a million likes on the pictures. Who could possibly hate bacon?
“I’m so stuffed!” Brown announced, patting the concave wall that passed for her stomach.
“Me too! So much food!” Pink said.
Mir gave them a look. I inwardly agreed with her sentiment, then took a large bite of a bagel, laden with lots and lots of cream cheese, since I’d already polished off four strips of bacon.
“I think I overate.” Purple finger-combed her hair. “I feel a little sick. I should probably get up and walk.” She went into the living room and started walking in a large square, elbows high.
“I’m going to do some cardio later,” Red said, then sipped her coffee, which she had taken black.
Blondie nodded.
Amazing. If I ate like them, I’d weigh, like, two pounds. I couldn’t decide if they went on about how much food they ate because it was some kind of weird bragging competition. After all, they were trying to stay skinny and young.
“That’s a lot of carbs,” Blondie said to me as I bit into my bagel again. “I’m serious. Carbs will make you old.”
I’d rather look old than eat only six bites of food a day. Life was too short.