Page 57 of Twisted Devotion

“Sounds like it. Tristan met with me yesterday and went over the basics.” Kyle swallows, shaking his head. “It was so weird, though. I could’ve sworn I knew the guy.”

My pulse jumps and tightness fills my chest. “What?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t make sense, but he seemed so familiar.”

I force a shrug and try to smile. “He’s got one of those faces. Plus, he’s the owner of the Westbrook Hotel. You’ve probably seen his face online or something.”

Kyle purses his lips. “Huh. Yeah, that could be it.”

I exhale slowly, holding up my coffee mug to shield my mouth, and make a mental note to call Tristan once breakfast is over. There’s no way Kyle could remember him from when our foster family was killed and Tristan had him relocated, but I need reassurance on that.

Kyle stabs one of the four eggs on his plate, making the bright yellow yolk spill out and touch his hash browns. “Have you decided where you’re going after you’re done with work?”

“Not really,” I say, “but I’ve always wanted to visit Amsterdam.”

His eyes widen. “Damn. That would be really cool.”

I nod. “Right?”

“You should wait for me to finish school so I can crash your trip. I’d make an awesome photographer. Just saying.”

I smile at him, knowing full well I’m not waiting another handful of months for him to graduate for me to leave Rockdale. “Don’t worry. There will be plenty of time to travel. We can go back.”

He shoots me a grin, understanding filling his expression. “Of course.”

After we’re done with breakfast and fight over the bill—a battle I win with my credit card—Kyle walks me to my car and wraps his arms around me in a bear hug. As weird as I thought reuniting with my foster brother would be, this feels completely normal. Like we didn’t spend those years apart. I’m glad Kyle is back in my life, and no matter where I end up after I’m done my contract with Jackson, I’m going to make sure he stays there.

On my way to Jackson’s house to pick him up so we can head into work, I send Tristan a voice memo about what Kyle said, expressing my mild concern about his memory. When I pull into the driveway, there’s a text from him.

Don’t worry about it. He doesn’t remember.

Uhhh, okay, I think.

That wasn’t exactly the reassurance I was looking for, but evidently that’s all I’m going to get. Fair enough; Tristan is likely inundated with work since starting back at the hotel. If he says Kyle can’t remember his mind manipulation, I have to believe him, so I send a text back.

Okay. Thanks again for meeting with him and helping out.

His response comes in a minute later.

Happy to help. Take care, Kelsey.

I smile fondly, pocketing my phone as I get out of the car and walk toward the house. When I unlock the door and walk into the foyer, my eyes immediately land on Jackson, lying on the couch in the living room with his arm draped over his eyes. My lips twitch as I approach quietly and watch his chest rise and fall evenly. He’s asleep.

I wishIcould sleep like this on the job.

Instead, I sleptwiththe job.

Heat rises in my cheeks at the thought—more so because I want to do it again.

Jackson inhales deeply, stirring, and my pulse jumps, scared I’ll be caught staring at him. His arm slides away from his face and drops down the front of the couch, but his eyes stay closed.

I let out the breath I was holding and walk backward to the foyer. Once I’m out of the room, I turn and walk into the kitchen, where I find Gloria stocking the fridge after a grocery run.

“Morning,” I say to her with a smile.

“Oh, hello, dear. How are you doing?

“Good,” I say, “and you? How are your boys?”

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