But I ignore all that and focus on the sadness she can’t quite hide.
“They’re dicks to you?” I find myself asking. Then I wince, because I really need to think before I speak; she shouldn’t have it rubbed in her face.
But she doesn’t flinch. Her slim fingers wrap around her teacup, and she meets my eyes. “When I told them I wasn’t going to college, but planned to join you guys and help out the band, my parents said it was probably a good idea, given that I wasn’t very intelligent and that, by hitching my ride to Killian’s talent, at least I’d get somewhere in life.”
For a second, I can only blink, numb with shock. Then a slow boil starts up in my gut. By the expression on Killian’s face, this is old news to him, but it still hasn’t dulled his rage. We share a look that says only too clearly how much we’d like to personally respond to Brenna’s crap parents.
I clear my throat of the rage clogging it. “You’re the smartest person I know, Bren. And if they can’t see that, then they’re ignorant fucks.”
Her lips quirk, and she glances down at her cup. “Thank you. And believe me, I knew they were full of it, even back then. But it was still…unpleasant to hear.”
“Of course it was.” Damn it, I want to hug her so badly, it’s physically painful to refrain. My hands press into my thighs in agitation.
“If they decide to attend,” Killian says in a hard tone, “we’ll all run interference, Brenna Bean.”
She gives him a slight nudge with her elbow in gratitude. “You don’t have to. I’m capable of handling them.”
“I know,” he says. “You’re so capable, it scares me a little. Doesn’t mean you have to deal with that crap alone. Because you’re not.”
They share a look that speaks of a lifetime of watching out for each other. And while I’m so damn glad she’s had Killian watching her back, I suddenly feel all the years of being on the outside of her life, looking in. I’m still not fully in her life. My chest clenches, and I resist the urge to rub it.
Killian glances at his watch. “Shit, I’ve got to go.”
That’s my cue to go as well. I could stick around, wait for him to leave, but Brenna won’t like that. She’ll worry Killian would suspect something. Maybe he would. I don’t care, but I slowly stand—for her, I’ll play this part.
“I’m heading out too.” It’s pouring rain now, pelting against the glass front of the tea house. I could use a good dousing.
Killian gives Brenna a quick kiss on the cheek then flicks down a wad of cash before Brenna and I can pay. “You need a ride?” he asks her.
“No, I’m good. I’m going to return a few emails before calling a car.”
She pointedly doesn’t look my way. Fine, then. Message received.
I grab a square of lemon cake for the road.
Killian glances at the window and then back to me. “You want a ride?”
“Nah. There’s a shop next door I’m going to.” Lie. But I’m getting pretty good at it and made note of the bookstore when I’d arrived. Just in case. I give Brenna a nod. “A pleasure as always, Berry.”
“Rye.”
That’s it. That’s all I get. It’s part of our act. Doesn’t stop the oppressive heaviness that settles on my chest. I take a breath and push out into the rain. I’m instantly soaked and cold to the bone.
Brenna
Alone. Finally.
Even though the shop still hums with conversation and the soft clinks of silverware against china, it’s wonderfully quiet at my table. A nice little cocoon of silence.
I pour the remaining dregs of tea into my cup and take a sip. It’s gone cold and bitter, but I don’t care. I need to do something with my jittery hands.
Shit. I don’t want to deal with my parents. I really don’t want to deal with them in front of my friends. The potential for humiliation is too great. Not when they try their best to make all those around them equally unhappy, and I am one of their favorite targets. In their eyes, I am a traitor. I went off with spoiled, rich Killian and turned my back on them. I shouldn’t let it bother me. Yet one snidely spoken comment from my father and I’m decimated, uncertain, and embarrassed to live within my own skin. I loathe how family can do that to me.
I hate feeling weak, feeling less than. I hate that this insecurity has affected every aspect of my life when I’ve worked so hard to be strong, independent.
After finishing off the tea, I set the cup down with more force than necessary and collect my stuff. It’s still pouring, and I call a car from the service we keep on staff. But my mind drifts to Rye. He surprised me by showing up here.