“Your bagel offend you in some way?” Easton asks.
I look down to see my breakfast lying in shreds on the plate. I push it aside and pull the bowl of fresh fruit, granola, and yogurt toward me. The single greatest thing about living in the Royal house might be the amount of food in the kitchen at all times. There’s no eating one meal a day or hoping that your body doesn’t revolt if all you can get your hands on is a single fast-food taco.
And everything is fresh, bright, green, and healthy.
If Callum had just reminded me of the contents of the refrigerator, maybe I wouldn’t have put up as big of a fight.
“Not feeling the carbs this morning,” I tell Easton.
“So, baby sis, what’re we gonna do today?” He rubs his hands together. “I hear we’re not going to school. Well, the twins are, but that’s ’cause they’re too dumb. They miss one class, they’ll flunk out.”
Both twins give him the finger.
“I’m going over to Valerie’s.”
“Great,” Easton says. “I like Val. Sounds like we’re gonna have a good time.”
“You missed the pronoun I.”
Everyone at the table is watching our exchange.
“I didn’t miss it.” Easton grins sunnily, but his eyes are darting all over. “I’m conveniently ignoring it. What time are we leaving?”
I rap my fingers on the table. “Easton, pay attention.” I wait until his frenetic gaze lands back on me. “You are staying here. Or you can leave, but either way you’re not coming with me.”
“You’re saying words but they’re not really making any sense. When do you want to meet at your car?”
I look around the table for help, but everyone averts their faces. Across from me, the twins are nearly shaking with suppressed laughter.
Callum peers over the top of his newspaper. “You should give in now. If you don’t let him ride with you, he’ll show up at the Carringtons’ anyway.”
Easton tries to look gracious and contrite, but triumph gleams in his eyes.
“Fine, but we’re painting our nails and talking about which maxi pads are the most absorbent. There might even be scientific experiments.”
His smile doesn’t waver, but the twins groan. “Gross,” they say in unison and push away from the table. Sawyer—I’m going with that—taps Sebastian on the shoulder. “Ready to go?”
Seb tosses a napkin on the table and rises. “I guess. I’d rather learn about geometry than maxi pads.”
“Let’s leave in about fifteen?” Easton says to me before bounding out of the kitchen.
I rub my forehead as a pain starts to develop over my right eye.
“Ella…” Reed is so quiet I barely hear him.
I ignore him and stare out the window at the clear, still water in the pool, wishing life were as smooth and calm.
“I’ll leave you two to finish breakfast.” Callum folds his paper noisily. The chair legs scrape against the tiled floor when he stands. “I’m glad you’re back, Ella. We missed you.” He places a hand on my shoulder and then leaves the room.
“I’m done, too.” I throw my spoon down next to my uneaten breakfast.
“Forget it. I’m going.” Reed gets to his feet. “You need to eat and it’s obvious you won’t while I’m here.”
I keep ignoring him.
“I’m not your enemy,” he says, unhappiness coloring his voice. “I didn’t tell you about my past because it was messed up and I didn’t know how you’d react. I was wrong, okay? But I’m gonna make it right.”
He leans down, his mouth inches away from my ear. His scent surrounds me, so I force myself not to breathe. Force myself not to let my gaze linger on his sculpted arm, which flexes as he braces one hand against the table.
“I’m not giving up,” he murmurs, his warm breath tickling the side of my neck.
I finally offer a response. Low and mocking. “You should. I’d screw Daniel before I’d get back together with you.”
His breath whistles between his teeth as he sucks in a breath. “We both know that’s not true. But I get it. I hurt you and now you want to pay me back.”
I look him in the eye. “No. I don’t want payback. It’s not worth the mental energy, and I don’t plan on spending much time thinking about you. I don’t care about you or your girls. I just want to be left alone.”
His jaw hardens. “I’m willing to do almost anything for you. I’d go back in time to change things if I could.” He gazes down at me with determination. “But I’m not leaving you alone.”
10
Easton is sprawled on my bed when I walk in. He’s got a can of pop—not beer, thank goodness—cupped between his legs and my remote in his fist.
“How’d you get in here?” I demand.
“You didn’t close your door all the way.” He pats the empty space on the mattress. “Hop up. I’ll watch ESPN while you call Val.”
“I already called before I came down for breakfast.” I shove a few things into my backpack and sling it over my shoulder. “You guys have a thrift store around here?”
Easton rolls off the bed and joins me in front of the closet. “No clue, but if you’re tired of your clothes, you can donate them during Formal week. They have a charity drive.”
Formal week? I start to ask, and then decide that I don’t really want to know. I’m not attending any stupid Astor Park shit in the future.
“Of course they do,” I mutter. “Callum says I have money. I guess I can access it.”
“What do you want it for?”
“To buy clothes.”
“You have them.” He gestures toward the closet.
“And I’m going to torch these and buy new ones, okay?” Anger and impatience make me ruder than I mean to be. “I don’t see why it’s a big deal that I want to shop. Girls are supposed to like to shop.”
Easton studies me with shiny eyes that are far more intuitive than I give him credit for. “You’re not a regular girl, Ella. So yeah, it’s weird, but I’m putting it together. Brooke bought these clothes. You hate Brooke. These clothes gotta go.”
I look down to see my breakfast lying in shreds on the plate. I push it aside and pull the bowl of fresh fruit, granola, and yogurt toward me. The single greatest thing about living in the Royal house might be the amount of food in the kitchen at all times. There’s no eating one meal a day or hoping that your body doesn’t revolt if all you can get your hands on is a single fast-food taco.
And everything is fresh, bright, green, and healthy.
If Callum had just reminded me of the contents of the refrigerator, maybe I wouldn’t have put up as big of a fight.
“Not feeling the carbs this morning,” I tell Easton.
“So, baby sis, what’re we gonna do today?” He rubs his hands together. “I hear we’re not going to school. Well, the twins are, but that’s ’cause they’re too dumb. They miss one class, they’ll flunk out.”
Both twins give him the finger.
“I’m going over to Valerie’s.”
“Great,” Easton says. “I like Val. Sounds like we’re gonna have a good time.”
“You missed the pronoun I.”
Everyone at the table is watching our exchange.
“I didn’t miss it.” Easton grins sunnily, but his eyes are darting all over. “I’m conveniently ignoring it. What time are we leaving?”
I rap my fingers on the table. “Easton, pay attention.” I wait until his frenetic gaze lands back on me. “You are staying here. Or you can leave, but either way you’re not coming with me.”
“You’re saying words but they’re not really making any sense. When do you want to meet at your car?”
I look around the table for help, but everyone averts their faces. Across from me, the twins are nearly shaking with suppressed laughter.
Callum peers over the top of his newspaper. “You should give in now. If you don’t let him ride with you, he’ll show up at the Carringtons’ anyway.”
Easton tries to look gracious and contrite, but triumph gleams in his eyes.
“Fine, but we’re painting our nails and talking about which maxi pads are the most absorbent. There might even be scientific experiments.”
His smile doesn’t waver, but the twins groan. “Gross,” they say in unison and push away from the table. Sawyer—I’m going with that—taps Sebastian on the shoulder. “Ready to go?”
Seb tosses a napkin on the table and rises. “I guess. I’d rather learn about geometry than maxi pads.”
“Let’s leave in about fifteen?” Easton says to me before bounding out of the kitchen.
I rub my forehead as a pain starts to develop over my right eye.
“Ella…” Reed is so quiet I barely hear him.
I ignore him and stare out the window at the clear, still water in the pool, wishing life were as smooth and calm.
“I’ll leave you two to finish breakfast.” Callum folds his paper noisily. The chair legs scrape against the tiled floor when he stands. “I’m glad you’re back, Ella. We missed you.” He places a hand on my shoulder and then leaves the room.
“I’m done, too.” I throw my spoon down next to my uneaten breakfast.
“Forget it. I’m going.” Reed gets to his feet. “You need to eat and it’s obvious you won’t while I’m here.”
I keep ignoring him.
“I’m not your enemy,” he says, unhappiness coloring his voice. “I didn’t tell you about my past because it was messed up and I didn’t know how you’d react. I was wrong, okay? But I’m gonna make it right.”
He leans down, his mouth inches away from my ear. His scent surrounds me, so I force myself not to breathe. Force myself not to let my gaze linger on his sculpted arm, which flexes as he braces one hand against the table.
“I’m not giving up,” he murmurs, his warm breath tickling the side of my neck.
I finally offer a response. Low and mocking. “You should. I’d screw Daniel before I’d get back together with you.”
His breath whistles between his teeth as he sucks in a breath. “We both know that’s not true. But I get it. I hurt you and now you want to pay me back.”
I look him in the eye. “No. I don’t want payback. It’s not worth the mental energy, and I don’t plan on spending much time thinking about you. I don’t care about you or your girls. I just want to be left alone.”
His jaw hardens. “I’m willing to do almost anything for you. I’d go back in time to change things if I could.” He gazes down at me with determination. “But I’m not leaving you alone.”
10
Easton is sprawled on my bed when I walk in. He’s got a can of pop—not beer, thank goodness—cupped between his legs and my remote in his fist.
“How’d you get in here?” I demand.
“You didn’t close your door all the way.” He pats the empty space on the mattress. “Hop up. I’ll watch ESPN while you call Val.”
“I already called before I came down for breakfast.” I shove a few things into my backpack and sling it over my shoulder. “You guys have a thrift store around here?”
Easton rolls off the bed and joins me in front of the closet. “No clue, but if you’re tired of your clothes, you can donate them during Formal week. They have a charity drive.”
Formal week? I start to ask, and then decide that I don’t really want to know. I’m not attending any stupid Astor Park shit in the future.
“Of course they do,” I mutter. “Callum says I have money. I guess I can access it.”
“What do you want it for?”
“To buy clothes.”
“You have them.” He gestures toward the closet.
“And I’m going to torch these and buy new ones, okay?” Anger and impatience make me ruder than I mean to be. “I don’t see why it’s a big deal that I want to shop. Girls are supposed to like to shop.”
Easton studies me with shiny eyes that are far more intuitive than I give him credit for. “You’re not a regular girl, Ella. So yeah, it’s weird, but I’m putting it together. Brooke bought these clothes. You hate Brooke. These clothes gotta go.”
