The hulk of a man beside her looks less than impressed with our little group. He’s blond, clean-cut, and wearing what I assume is a suit that costs more than my car. His eyes seem completely empty, and he has an arm wrapped possessively around Beth’s waist.
Hannah is the first to speak—ever the perfect host. “Hi, Kyle. I’m Hannah, Beth’s sister.” She reaches out her hand towards him.
When his voice fills the room, it sends chills down my spine—not the good kind. “I can see that good looks run in the family,” he purrs.
I have to fight back my gag reflex.
Hannah pulls her hand back, a fake laugh escaping from her mouth as Greyson comes up behind her.
“Greyson Holt,” he clips out, and the bastard smirks.
“Kyle Nathanial Davis the third,” he proclaims in response.
The tension in the room is so thick you could cut it with a knife.
When he turns his attention to me, I have to fight back the urge to cower under his stare. “And you might you be?” he asks, completely ignoring the fact that Jami’s arms are wrapped around my shoulders from behind.
I cross my arms over my chest but don’t speak. This asshole gives me the creeps, and I’m not nearly as nice as Hannah is to pretend otherwise.
“This is Lennon,” Beth says for me.
“Mmm. Such a unique name you have, Lennon.”
Everything about him is slimy. Even the gel in his hair makes him seem like a snake.
Jami doesn’t bother reaching out to shake his hand. I only hear him speak from behind me. “Jamison Henley.”
“Jayden King.” Jay says from beside me.
All the guys have their backs up and the amount of testosterone in the room is starting to make everyone antsy.
“Let’s eat!” Hannah declares, untangling herself from Greyson. “Girls, would you help me?”
“Yup,” I clip out.
Beth goes to answer, but Kyle cuts her off. “I’m certain two people is enough in the kitchen. Beth can stay here with me.” He’s not asking a question—it’s a statement.
As Beth visibly shrinks beside him, I feel myself balling my hands into fists. We were right. Everything we had suspected was right. He is a fucking prick and he has Beth under his well-manicured thumb.
I follow Hannah into the kitchen while the others go to sit at the dining room table and walk straight up to stand beside her. “What the fuck was that?” I whisper to her so no one else will hear us.
She looks like she’s fighting back tears, so I rub her back. “He’s awful, Lennon. I know we thought he might be, but this is so much worse.” She schools her face, tilting her head back to stop any stray tears from coming out. “He doesn’t even seem like her.”
I nod my head. It’s true. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Beth shrink for anyone before, and I never want her to again. “I know, Han, but I don’t know what we can do about it.”
The timer on the oven sounds, and Hannah quickly snaps back into action. A few minutes later, we load up the plates and deliver them to the dining room. Greyson is sitting at the head of the table. There’s an empty seat on his left for Hannah and one on his right for me. Jami is sitting on the other side of me and Jay on the other side of Hannah. I have no doubt that they did that on purpose. Trying to keep the king of slime away from us. Kyle has dragged Beth’s chair around so they are both sitting on the same side of the table, only inches apart.
“So where did you guys meet?” Hannah asks as we start in on dinner.
“We met at—” Beth starts to say before Kyle cuts her off.
“We met through work,” he answers shortly.
Well, that was vague, especially considering that Beth just lost her job.
The rest of dinner goes very much the same way. If anyone asks Beth a question, Kyle would answer it. Each answer he gives is vaguer than the last, and by the time he leaves, we are all battling a pit of unease in our stomachs. It isn’t even that he was awkward or just not well socialized. He is a controlling asshole who clearly thinks very little of us.
“Well, he’s a real fucking piece of work,” Jay says seriously when the door closes behind them.
It’s definitely bad if even Jayden can’t make light of the situation.
“He’s a jackass,” Jami growls, pulling me onto his lap on the sofa.
“I’m so scared for her,” Hannah whispers, tears falling down her face again. “I’m sorry.” She wipes her cheeks, but they just keep coming. “It’s the hormones, I think,” she confesses.
“Shhh, sweetheart,” Greyson coos, scooping her up into his arms before sitting down on the other couch. “It will be okay. Your sister is a smart girl. She will figure it out,” he tells her, softly rubbing her back.