“Fucking A,” Ryke groans and leans back into the couch like he can’t believe this. “We’re not twelve, Rose.”
I can feel Lo’s grin behind me, and I elbow him to wipe it clean. But Ryke catches sight of it. “What’s so fucking funny?”
“I’ve had to live with Rose for almost three years. It’s nice to see someone else suffering under her reign.”
Daisy chimes in, “Rose, I like being able to have this kind of freedom. Mom always got onto me about my room—”
“I will not be manipulated about this. Nice try,” she says, “but no.”
Connor looks impressed by Rose outsmarting Daisy, which really is a higher compliment to my little sister.
Daisy shrugs like had to give it a shot.
Rose snaps her fingers, regaining everyone’s attention. “It’s not a hard concept. If we’re living together, clean up after yourself.”
“What if I don’t fucking want to,” Ryke refutes.
“What?” Rose glares like he’s offering another choice to a true and false test.
He kicks his feet up on the table to further infuriate her. Connor says something in Italian, and since Rose only knows French, I realize quickly that he’s secretly speaking to Ryke.
“Whoa!” I hold up my hands. The room silences on impact, all eyes turning to me. Wow, that worked better than I thought. “Can I make a rule about no secrets in foreign languages?”
“Learn the foreign language and there won’t be any secrets,” Connor says swiftly.
Easier said than done. But I see the power in Rose’s eyes, like she’s accepting a new breed of challenge.
Ryke nods to my older sister. “Let Daisy and I hire a maid like we wanted.”
“No,” Lo and I say together.
Ryke groans again. Lo and I have already voiced our opinions on servers and staff, maids and butlers. We grew up with them, and this house, humongous as it is, already reminds us of the places we were raised.
Neither of us wants to return to that. To walk through the hallways, reminded of times that were darker and more sinister. Fresh starts and new beginnings mean changes, and I want to change how I live. Plus, we’ve been backstabbed and screwed over far too many times. I can’t imagine trusting someone enough to allow them free rule of our house.
“You have a warning,” Rose tells him before moving on. “Second order of business. The hot tub is not a place to fuck.” Crudeness, but she barely even falters or blushes.
And then the realness of that accusation sinks in. “Who had sex in the hot tub?” I didn’t.
“Well it wasn’t us,” Lo starts, raising his eyes at me, and he’s having a hard time looking at the adjacent couch.
Oh. Ohhhhh. I grimace as a pop-up image of Ryke and Daisy screwing in the bubbly hot waters fills my brain. Erase! Delete! Ahhhhh.
Daisy’s eyes are giant saucers, and I’m more aware that she’s much younger than all of us. She’s probably feeling that age gap right about now too. Something about us knowing that she’s having sex with Ryke makes a layer of awkwardness sweep the room. Or at least, it’s sweeping big fat gusts towards me, completely missing Rose and Connor.
Maybe their throne-like chairs have magical, immunity properties.
“Is this meeting just a way to bust my balls?” Ryke asks angrily, his hand on Daisy’s head as she slouches. His fingers are lost in her hair, and I wonder if he’s giving her a head massage or something.
“You’re not broken in yet,” Connor says. “It’ll take you a couple of months, or a year since you always refuse to be trained.”
“Fantastic,” Ryke replies.
“Not fucking fantastic?” Daisy whispers to him with a bright smile.
He actually smiles back, and his eyes graze her intimately, reserved for bedrooms and foreplay.
Connor clears his throat. “The last thing…” His eyes land on Lo, but Connor’s deep blues are filled with only seriousness. All the humor and banter dies right there. I don’t think this is about dirty dishes and screwing in hot tubs anymore. “It’s something that affects the four of you.” He scoots to the edge of his chair so that he’s a little closer to us. My heart skips a beat. “As you know, the Calloway’s publicist is revealing Lily’s pregnancy to the media tomorrow.”
All day, I’ve been bracing myself for the firestorm. If the reaction is anything like my parent’s, I’ll be facing discontent and disapproval. Lo and I aren’t married. He relapsed only a few months ago. We’re not the bright and shining couple like Rose and Connor.