Hard Edge - Tess Oliver Page 0,12
like a little girl’s fancy doll. She’d grown into a woman, but there was still plenty of Trinket left. In her early teens, Kenna had always been small and petite. I could still remember sitting in class and reading a story about a woman who found a shiny, pretty little piece of jewelry in her grandmother’s attic. The ‘trinket’ turned out to be a rare, priceless necklace. From that day on I’d called Kenna, Trinket. To both Grady and me she had always been just that, shiny, pretty and little . . . and priceless.
“How’s the law degree . . . and the fiancé?” I asked, not really wanting to know about the lucky man who’d ended up with my girl.
Kenna’s lips turned up slightly. “Seems you’ve been keeping up with the Mayfair gossip. Wouldn’t have expected it.”
“My mom makes sure of it. Every month she sends me a big ass email detailing every fucking thing that has happened during the past weeks. I always skim through to the parts about you.”
“Right.”
“You don’t believe me? Trinket, you and Grady were the only people who mattered to me in this town.”
Kenna stretched out her long, smooth legs and stared down at her feet. “I can’t come to grips with it yet, Cade. I keep thinking he’s still here, just waiting to go skateboarding or to go buy an ice cream cone.” Her voice wavered, and the sound of it made my throat tighten. “Rocky road. That was his favorite, unless—’
“Unless the ice cream shop had—what was that crazy ass concoction called?”
“Summer hash. Grady said it was all the good stuff shoved into one waffle cone.” Her voice faded as she spoke.
“I’m still waiting to wake up from this bad fucking dream. Sitting with you, Trinket, is the closest I’ll ever come to sitting with my brother again.” I picked up the whiskey. It tasted warm and disgusting, but it was holding my buzz at a level that kept me from thinking too hard.
Kenna reached over and took hold of the bottle. She winced and shuddered as she took another gulp. “Grady was one of those people who everyone wanted to know. I always felt extremely lucky that he liked me enough to keep me around as a friend.”
I looked over at Kenna. Was it possible she still had no idea how Grady felt about her? I knew. Our parents knew. I was sure the whole damn town knew. Kenna was beautiful, athletic, smart and funny, but she’d never realized her own worth. Growing up, there had never been any girls in Mayfair to rival her. And even so, she’d always kept her feet on the ground and her head on her shoulders. It seemed she’d never considered the possibility that she was a heartbreaker, that she was the type of girl who could wrap herself around your soul with just her laugh. And now some lucky bastard in New York had stolen off with the girl who Grady and I had loved since she’d ridden up to our house on her red bicycle.
“How long before you have to fly back? Are you missing classes?” I asked.
Kenna leaned back on her hands. “Wow, those few shots of whiskey make it feel as if my head is filled with helium and my legs with lead. I just finished a trimester. I didn’t sign up for summer session because I really needed a break . . . from everything.” She turned her face up to the sun and closed her eyes. “I think I might just revert back to my childhood and stay in Mayfair for awhile. My mom needs my help with the candy store. Oh, but I haven’t told her yet so mums the word.” She sat up and swayed forward a little farther than expected. My arm shot out to keep her from pitching forward.
She stared down at my arm and smiled weakly. “You’re pretty fast with that soccer mom mini-van move. Jeez, I’m a lightweight.” Her soft laugh was a sound I hadn’t heard in a long time. It was as awesome as always.
She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I remember when Grady and I went to our first big shot high school party. I sipped this syrupy fruit punch all night, completely oblivious that it had been laced with rum. A lot of rum.” She pressed her arm against her stomach. “Just thinking about it makes me want to throw up. Which, I did. Throw up, that