Smug Bastard - Stacey Marie Brown Page 0,67

myself slink back.

I wouldn’t.

The rain cloud would become a blustering storm.

Chapter 18

Kinsley

“Oh my god, you finally made it.” My sister ran out of the house, tackling me the moment I got out of the car. “You’re here! You’re here!” She squeezed me tight, and I hugged her back with the same force. “Missed you so much, Kins. I am so happy you’re here.”

“I’ve missed you too.” I had. I loved my sister to pieces, no matter how much she could drive me nuts. She was a good person and absolutely adored me.

She stepped back, her gaze moving over me. “Wow… you look gorgeous. Something’s different about you. I swear, you’ve changed since the last time I saw you.”

“You saw me at my graduation a month ago.”

“Still… something’s different.” Her attention jumped from me as if she realized something, her focus going to the passenger seat, where Goat waited patiently for me. “Wait… Where’s Smith?”

Right.

“Kinsley!” My mom’s cry took my attention from my sister, my parents jogging out of the house I grew up in, their arms open. Kay Maxwell was as cute as you could get. Still young appearing for her fifty-five years, she was short with a heart-shaped face, the same honey-colored hair as my siblings, though hers had help from the salon now. Her petite figure was now full of curves, but she went speed walking with her girlfriends three days a week and was always moving. The twins got their endless energy from her. I was much more like my dad. Liam Maxwell was tall, lean, silvering dark hair, and laid-back. His basketball days far behind him, he enjoyed fishing and watching sports now.

“Mom.” I hugged her as my dad impatiently waited for his turn. “Hey, Dad.”

“Sweetheart, we are so glad you are here and made it safely.” He squeezed me tight.

“Me too.”

“Oh, there is my favorite grandpuppy.” Mom scuttled to get Goat from the front seat, his butt wiggling at seeing her. He loved my mom because she was always slipping him treats, cooking extra chicken or hamburger so he could have some.

My dad and brother were still on Goat’s unsure list.

But that little shit instantly loved Smith. Stupid dog.

My nails cut into my palm. I had promised myself I wouldn’t think about him, though he slipped into my head more times than I could count.

He was there when I danced on a bar in Atlanta, kissed a guy in DC, went on a pub crawl in Philly, and made out with the tour leader in a bathroom stall. He was especially there when I got a tattoo on my wrist in New York. He was there all the time, his voice skating up my neck, pushing me to do something, or growling with fury.

Every guy I kissed was my “screw you” to him, but the next morning I’d wake up, knowing I was only hurting myself. He didn’t know nor would he probably care.

I blocked his number and him from social media, but still I hoped somehow he’d contact me.

He didn’t.

I pushed on, making the rest of my trip as adventurous as the first part. I hated the fact that if he had never come, my entire journey would have been safe and uneventful, staying in the lines.

“Kinsley?” Kasey marched over to me, her head tipping. “I thought Smith was with you?”

I hadn’t told anyone in my family he was no longer a passenger in my van, not wanting to get into the whys. My mother and sister were like sharks, smelling blood in the water and wouldn’t relent until they got the truth.

“He’s not.” I shrugged.

“What happened?” Concern wrinkled Mom’s forehead as she set Goat down and he ran into the white trilevel house, probably heading to where he knew Mom hid his treats. “Why isn’t he with you? Where is he?”

“Uh.” A root canal sounded far better than having this conversation. “I don’t know. We split in New Orleans.” The fissure in my chest I patched over with tape cracked, my hand absently rubbing at the pain.

“What?” my sister and Mom bellowed.

“New Orleans?” Kasey sputtered. “That was four days ago. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I’m not his keeper, Kasey,” I snapped, irritation grinding up my spine. “He is a grown man and can do what he wants.”

“Yeah, but why? He’s supposed to be here. He has to be.”

“Why? Because you have it in your head he’s yours? He doesn’t have to be anywhere. And definitely not because you want him to be.”

Her lids