Page 92 of Vain
“Don’t be silly. You’ll stay with us of course,” Tilly says.
Kellen leans between the seats so he can see her better. “Are you sure? I won’t be offended one little bit if you’d rather I find a room for the night.”
“I’m sure. You’re family, right?”
“Damn straight.” He kisses her cheek, making her jump, before he sits back and buckles in.
The press is waiting outside as usual, though they seem to be thinner on the ground, thank fuck.
“Ah, the blood-sucking vampires are out in force still, I see,” Kellen observes.
I snort. “Trust me. This is nothing.”
We make idle chitchat on the way home, and Kellen has Tilly in stitches a half dozen times. This is what she needed, what we both needed. Some kind of fucking normality.
We pull up at the gatehouse. The new guy is manning the little hut. Damned if I can remember his name. He waves us through when he sees who it is.
“He seems friendly,” Kellen whispers loudly, making Tilly giggle.
“Be nice. He’s the new guy and we all know how much that sucks.”
When we pull up to the house, Kellen starts rapping the theme music fromThe Fresh Prince of Bel Airtheme.
“This isn’t Bel Air, and you’re no prince you idiot. Get out of the car,” I tell him.
“Aye-aye, Captain.”
I turn to Matilda as he gets out. “I feel like I should apologize in advance.”
“Please don’t. I think he’s hilarious.”
“Ugh, don’t tell him that. His head is big enough as it is. Come on, let’s see what Marley’s left for us. Food is the one thing that’s guaranteed to keep Kellen quiet.”
I jump out, but before I can walk around and grab Tilly’s door, Kellen—the asshat—has beaten me to it.
“Quit touching my girl, dammit.”
“I’m touching the truck door.”
“I still don’t like it.”
“Fuck me, you’re worse than Blake.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
MATILDA
Both Greyson and Marley had retired for the evening, but as per usual, Marley had made sure the fridge was stocked when we got home.
“Alright, boys. It looks like we’re having chicken and vodka pasta with salad and cheesy garlic bread. Oh, and there’s banoffles for dessert.”
“What the fuck are banoffles?” Kellen asks as he takes a seat next to Aiden at the counter.
“They’re a kind of mashup of my favorite desserts. It’s basically cookie dough waffle sandwiches with banana and caramel toffee cheesecake filling.”
When nobody says anything else, I poke my head around the fridge door to see Kellen wiping away drool. “You always eat like this?” he murmurs to Aiden.
“Every damn day.”
