Page 51 of Refusing Kendall

Guys approach Ry and I a few times, but thankfully, Lincoln is just as scary as his brothers when he wants to be. None of the girls here even bother to risk it with both of us dancing with him.

It’s too loud in here tonight for conversations, so I close my eyes and let my body take over, swaying to the beat. A familiar song comes on, and it makes my heart do a funny flip in my chest. It’s one that Teagan and I danced to on salsa night. It truly is hard to believe we’ve gone from that to the place we are now. Shit can change in the drop of a hat, and it’s scary as fuck. There’s not a single thing in this world that I wouldn’t do for the four of them, and I know they feel the same, even with all of the shit going on. Yeah, what T did was hurtful, but we’re going to have ups and downs, especially when there’s no model for our unique situation. I don’t want to be mad at him anymore. I don’t want to waste any more time fighting with him. I’ll wait until they get back for us to talk and apologize, so hopefully we can move out of this hole that we’ve dug ourselves into. Then somehow, we will have to find a way to fix Goose, or maybe just knock some sense into that thick-ass skull of his. For now, I’m going to live for the moment.

A few hours later, we’re stumbling over each other trying to get into the house. It’s safe to say that we’ve danced ourselves into exhaustion.

Ryleigh bumps into my back, and then knocks me again when Lincoln bumps into her. “What the hell, Kendall?” she asks. “Why do you keep it so dark in here?”

With my resolve set in stone and spending time with my besties, my mood is much improved and could almost be called optimistic.

“That’s not my fault,” I answer with a short giggle. “Blame Casper.”

“Say what now?” she asks as I flip on the kitchen light.

I explain to them about the going ons of my little ghost friend over the past few months.

Lincoln, who took a seat at the kitchen island, let’s his mouth fall open with a pop.

Ry rolls her eyes dramatically, “Damn it, chica. Four pissed off boyfriends, a psycho stalker, and a fucking ghost? Could your life be any fucking weirder?”

The kitchen is completely silent for a full minute before we all bust a gut laughing.

Once he can breathe right again, Lincoln asks, “The bigger and more important question is with four boyfriends, your bed is big enough to hold the three of us, right?”

“Now I know for sure that you have a death wish. You wouldn’t even have to worry about your older brother kicking your ass. It would be your younger one and his three beefed-up, crabby friends.”

He nods with a grin, “True, true. But, I’m telling you right now, if Casper is a frisky ghost, I’ll be crawling into bed with one of you and risk the ass beating.”

We laugh until I’ve got them put up in Lucas and Teagan’s rooms. I figured it’d be less awkward that way. Even though, I should have known that it wouldn’t last.

Not even twenty minutes after I’ve sunk underneath my blanket, there’s a soft knock on the door. Ry peeks her head through the crack, “I hope you’re decent, because I’m coming in.” She crawls into the empty space beside me, “I’ve got my fingers crossed that you’re not sleeping naked tonight, because I’m so not sleeping by myself and in my brother’s bed, much less.”

“Thanks for being here, Ry,” I say, still facing away from her.

She throws an arm around me and squeezes tight, “That’s what best friends are for.”

When she lets go, she turns over until her back is to me. It’s not weird having her here in the bed. On the contrary, it’s quite comforting to not be sleeping alone while the guys aren’t here. I quickly fall asleep to the sound of her faint feminine snore.

The next day with the two of them breezes by. There’s sightseeing and finding new places to dine. A little Italian restaurant on the other side of town proves to be as good as I’ve heard. We kid about all of us being fatter if we lived closer together and ate like this all the time.

All in all, it’s a fucking fantastic weekend, and I hated to say goodbye to Lincoln this morning. I had to promise to drag the boys home by their ears over the summer at least once. It still didn’t stop the stupid tears from flowing when he hugged me tight and kissed my cheek. I don’t know why I’ve been so much more emotional lately, but it’s probably all of the stress. Lucky for me, Lincoln, the gentleman that he is, takes it all in stride and doesn’t say anything about it. Truth be told, I swear I could see a tear or two in his own eyes.

Ryleigh and I carry on over the next couple of days like the good ole days. We even take the time to pamper ourselves. By Wednesday, I’m starting to get anxiety in the pit of my stomach. Even though I talk to Lucas and Mav every night and send Goose my usual text, I still miss them like crazy. I’m ready for them all to be home so that we can work out this hiccup in our relationship.

It’s Wednesday night when Ry and I are sitting down to a movie and some Chinese takeout, when her phone rings. She rolls her eyes at it before answering. Logan’s voice filters out loud enough I can tell that it’s him, even if I can’t understand what he’s saying.

“Wait, slow down,” she tells him. “What happened?”

There’s rumbling from the phone as he apparently, tells her what’s going on.

“Are you okay?” she asks seriously. Her worried face drops into an incredulous expression as he responds.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Rowe,” she pauses as he says something else. “Yes, we’re on a last name basis if you’re telling me that you need me to come home just because you got a few stitches.” Her face softens as another mumbling comes from the phone, “Fine, but just so we’re clear, you’ll owe me, you big baby.” Whatever he says next, I’m glad that I can’t hear it. It puts a pink tinge on her cheeks, and I can already imagine something close to what he likely said. I do have four just like him, after all.

She hangs up with him and turns to me apologetically, “I know it sucks, but can we raincheck the next couple of days?”

I try to hide my disappointment behind a smile, “You already know that we can. Is he okay?”

Rolling her eyes, she snorts, “Of course, he is. There was an accident at the shop with one of the cars, and he somehow got bopped on the head. He had to have like twenty stitches. In typical Logan fashion, he’s acting like a baby about it because they’re making him stay overnight for observation.”

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