Chapter 22
Dean and Asher told me to meet them out front at seven fifteen, ready for dinner.
After a long debate with Jules this morning regarding what to wear, I decided on a long periwinkle A-line gown with a slit up my left leg that reaches the heavens.
The stunning silk tapers at my waist, held atop my shoulders by thin straps that flow into a V neckline.
This is a piece I made back at my parents’ house, using clearance material I got at the fabric store.
But you can’t tell by the way it turned out.
I slip on the pair of heels Myra lent me and throw my phone into the small handbag I’m borrowing from Jules. If it wasn’t for these two, I’d be a complete mess.
“You look great!” Jules shouts from the doorway of my room.
I nearly jump out of my skin because I didn’t hear her approach.
“Thank you.” I smile, walking her way, my heels clicking across the floor. “I’m nervous.”
She shakes her head with a laugh. “Don’t be. They’re crazy about you. Anyone can see that. It’s going to be a great night.”
Quickly, I grab Blair’s and Alora’s garment bags containing their dresses. I hook my arm in hers, and we head upstairs so I can meet the guys out front, my heart hammering in my chest.
“I finished Adrianna’s gown last night,” I mutter, telling Jules about her custom piece.
She groans at the mention of my evil stepmother. “The last damn one you’ll ever make that woman.”
“You’re right,” I say confidently.
Adrianna can threaten me or my parents’ house as much as she wants. I’m done being the dirt under her shoe. I deserve better than everything she’s given me.
We walk across the foyer toward the front doors.
Jules pulls one open and says, “Your princes and chariot await.”
Evening air greets me, brushing my long blonde waves away from my face. The sun is glaring, the kind of brightness you only get at dusk, unbothered by the clouds. But it’s quickly setting along the horizon.
My heart does a flip as my eyes fall to Dean and Asher, waiting on the stoop for me.
Good God, they are a sight to see …
Black slacks, button-up shirts open at the top and rolled at the cuffs. Complete with a sexy, slutty chain dangling around their necks. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to their beauty. It’s intense and damn near as blinding as the sun.
“My God, you look beautiful.” Asher strides over, offering me his hand and taking the garment bags in his other, draping them over his arm.
I slide my fingers between his, and he smiles, his pearly whites on full display.
Dean saunters over, looking as stoic as ever, but there’s also a slight heaviness in his gaze.
Something’s on his mind, but I don’t want to pressure him right now.
“Hi, handsome.”
Asher spins me under his arm, a laugh slipping free as he twirls me right into Dean.
“Hi, Princess.” He kisses my forehead, his big hands finding their home around my waist. “You look perfect.”
“Thank you,” I grin, struggling to meet his intense stare. “Shall we?”
We turn toward the stairs, and each guy takes my arm in theirs, guiding me gently down the steps.
“Are we heading there early? I thought you said dinner was at eight?” I ask as we reach the first landing and continue on.
Dean stays quiet for a beat too long, and it raises a flag in my mind.
Asher answers in his absence. “We want to show you something.”
My shoulders soften. I don’t know why that sentence makes me want to cry. Like they went out of their way to plan something to show me. That might seem like the bare minimum to most people, but it means a hell of a lot to me.
“Okay,” I whisper happily, but Dean’s quietness lingers heavily in the back of my mind.
Is he feeling okay? Is he questioning us? Questioning what we shared? Is he nervous about wherever we’re going? Being in public with me? Is he second-guessing taking me to his friend’s dinner?
The questions run endlessly through my mind as we head down the last set of steps, but I manage to quiet them for a moment.
I have been curious about how I’m going to ride on the back of one of their bikes with this slit in my dress, but evidently, they thought ahead.
A man in a suit is standing outside of some fancy SUV. “Good evening, Mr. Kensingtons. Ms. Matthews.” He opens the back door with a nod.
A humorous smirk tips my mouth up, and I purse my lips. “Hello.”
Dean offers his hand for me to help me up the step, and I slide onto the seat.
“Thank you,” I murmur, fixing my dress as I sit.
He nods, steps back, and shuts the door without a word.
I want to burst out of the car, grab him, kiss and hug him, and make him tell me what’s wrong. I know he’s internalizing everything right now, and I want to know why.
I haven’t known him to be this quiet in a while, and it’s breaking my damn heart. The back passenger door opens, and Asher slides into the seat, Dean into the seat in front of him.
The car pulls forward, and I lean over to Ash, whispering, “Are you taking me to some famous playboy Ash spot?”
His smile and eyes are emotional and soft as he turns to me, his lips grazing my cheek. “No. This is somewhere special. We definitely have never taken someone there.”
That same heaviness I saw in Dean appears in Asher’s gaze, and my heart sinks to the floor. Holding his stare, I nod and right myself, watching out of the window as we drive through Evermore.
Growing up here, I know almost every inch of this town, but it’s like I’m seeing it for the first time with these two. Maybe I’m just looking at everything with a new mindset—something that’s been changing nearly every day as of late.
We turn onto Marrow Lane, and my heart starts rising into my throat. I know what’s at the end of this road, and I hope to God that’s not where we’re heading.
The cemetery.
I’m not prepared to see my parents’ graves tonight, to let all of my makeup flow down my face before dinner. I’m somewhat holding it together at the moment, and this is going to break me.
We approach the parking lot outside of the cemetery, and the car pulls into it, finding the closest spot to the front, the place empty. The car stays running, the driver remaining in his seat as Dean gets out.
“Ready?” Asher asks.
“Yeah.” I smile nervously, feeling it nowhere near my eyes as my door opens, Dean’s hand ready to help me down.
I know the cemetery is only miles from the Kensingtons’ place, but I haven’t been to visit since I moved there, and that guilt has been eating at me more than I thought because I’m feeling all of it at once … right now.
I let him guide me around the car, my fingers interlacing with his. “Did you know they were buried here?”
His brows pinch. “What do you mean?”
My gaze falls as I rack my brain. “M-my parents.”
“They’re buried here too?” he asks in complete shock. “Should we go see them?”
“Wait. I’m confused.” My heels dig into the concrete path. “Why are we here?”
For a second, both of them turn to face me, their eyes shining in the light, and I don’t see the masculine, successful, put-together hockey players or the Kensington heirs.
I see two little boys with pain streaked in their eyes, memories flashing in their minds.
I’m an idiot.
“Your mom.” I fill in the blank, my heart dropping before bursting with love. “You brought me here to meet your mom.”
They nod, each offering a barely there smile.
“If you’d like, we’d like you to.”
Asher extends his hand. I take it.
My voice breaks. “I’d love to.”
Apparently, I’m going to be crying for a few different reasons tonight.
My boyfriends brought me to meet their mom, and I don’t know how I’m ever going to think of that without feeling my chest tighten, filling to the brim with the ever-growing feelings I have for them.
They guide me down the paths leading between the perfectly landscaped graves. I used to think cemeteries were scary, full of ghosts and haunted beings.
But after losing my parents, it became one of my favorite places in the entire world, where I could be close to my favorite people.
Do I still think they’re scary in the dark? Yes, like any rational person would. But I also know they’re full of love, grief, and lifetimes of stories.
“Do you want to visit your parents while we’re here?” Dean offers quietly.
I do. Desperately.
But I don’t know if I’m ready to face them yet, not until everything with Adrianna is finished. I think for a little while longer, I’ll keep all of the grief and sadness locked inside.
“Next time,” I respond, and they nod without question, continuing on.
“It’s at the end here,” Dean says, and I look to where he’s pointing.
The numerous times I’ve visited over the years, passed by the very mausoleum he’s referencing, without knowing that, one day, I’d be here, walking inside.
Asher unlocks it with his keys before tucking them into his pocket.
The massive granite structure is breathtaking. Pillars sit engraved in the four corners of it, their last name carved across the top of the front-facing wall, right above the doors.
Kensington.
I suddenly wish I had flowers to bring, something to pay my respects.
“Her name was Elizabeth. Best mom in the world.” Asher strides inside, shoulders and back straight, head held high as he boasts about his mom. “She was artsy, passionate, a little hotheaded.”
Dean chuckles. “Only with our father when he deserved it.”
“I can’t imagine someone standing up to him,” I murmur in disbelief.
My eyes roam the space, over the names, dates, and accolades of a few Kensington family members. But my eyes land on a portrait of a beautiful woman, eyes green, like Dean’s, and a smile big and bright, like Asher’s.
Asher beams. “She loved putting him in his place.”
“Yeah, the only one who could do it,” Dean adds with a smirk. “Which is what he needs right about now.”
“He’ll come around.” I step toward them both.
“Even if we have to shove the truth down his throat.” Asher seems to have a little too much fun saying that, a smile breaking across his face.