Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112449 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112449 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
“Come on,” she said. “We’ll be quick and back in time for class.”
I hopped out a step behind her, walking up a hill to the main gate. A collection of pinkish stones topped by a gray roof unveiled before us. They weren’t quite turrets, but they came together to form a collection of As. It looked like a Barbie dream house that grew up to be a big-girl mansion.
“Wow. Nice place,” I said.
“Thanks.” She let me in the door ahead of her, came in and kicked her shoes in the direction of the rack. “Mom and Dad aren’t home, so we’re cool.”
“Would we not be cool if they were home?”
She laughed. “No, we wouldn’t. Mom would follow us around, asking a million questions about you, your life, and your family. Dad hasn’t forgiven me for when I was fourteen and said I can’t bring friends around ’cause he’s a massive dork. He’s now made it his mission to prove to all my friends he isn’t one... by being a massive dork.”
“At least your dad doesn’t come inside on a hot day, flapping his arms, and going ‘don’t mind me, just airing out my pits.’”
We howled, nearly tripping on the grand staircase. Yeah, I said grand staircase.
Paris’s home was as magnificent inside as it was on the outside. Peeking through the entryways on the right and left, I spotted a kitchen that could fit the entire farmhouse bottom floor, and cost more than both floors put together. The other side granted me a look at their dining room with crystal chandeliers and a hanging painted portrait of the family, smiling down on their china place settings.
We topped the landing and Paris went through the door in front of us, padding inside a large, airy suite boasting a king-size bed, lounging area, and a big-screen television outfitted with pink diamonds around the edge.
“Sweet digs.”
“You can stay over anytime.” Paris flopped back on her bed. “Like now, while I sort this shit out with Cairo.”
“Can I ask you something?” I wandered into the bathroom, hunting down a towel and washcloth. “Why does Cairo call you Evie?”
“My middle name is Evelyn,” she called back. “He always thought the ‘named after our favorite cities’ thing was stupid, and he wasn’t shy about saying so. Announced when he was five that he was calling me Evie, and no one could make him stop. I really don’t mind.”
“But you still call him Cairo?”
“I call him Assface.”
I barked a laugh. “True.”
The washcloth and towel were found in a little closet between the shower and bidet. I peeled off my sticky clothes and stepped into the steamy spray. Paris came into the bathroom to continue the chat.
“When he’s just being garden-variety irritating, I call him Cairo. When he’s sweet, I call him Danny. His middle name is Daniel.”
“Daniel,” I said, trying it out on my tongue. A simple, common name, and somehow perfect for him. “What about Jacques, Legend, Roan, and Arsenio? You’ve known them your whole life? Do they have the little-sister thing going with you too?”
Maybe it was cheating to get what the guys wouldn’t give me from Paris.
But I didn’t care.
“Hmm. I’m not sure if they see me like that. They don’t mess with me like they do everyone else, but that’s likely because of Cairo. Still, they’re pretty chill guys when you get to know them.”
“Yeah?” I edged closer to the glass, hanging on her words. “In what way?”
“My folks hated my high school boyfriend, so they got Arsenio to take me to prom instead. He showed up in a tux with a corsage and everything. Smiled nice for the cameras, then drove me to my boyfriend’s place and covered for me.
“Jacques helps me with homework, but that might be because he never misses a chance to prove he’s the smartest guy in the room. Legend sneaks me whiskey. Roan and I like the same music. I’ll catch rides with him out of town to see our bands play in Hunter’s Crest.”
I caught myself smiling. It did sound a treat to see the side of the Bedlam Boys that Paris got to see.
Paris ran out to get me clothes. I changed into a pair of jeans and a loose sweatshirt, and imagined Cairo’s face when he tore it off.
“We’ve got an hour before we have to head back. Want to—?”
“Cairo? Cairo, what are you doing here?” Rapid footsteps approached the door, and a blonde woman burst inside. My eyes widened, trying to take her all in.
She was beautiful. From the short, platinum locks, to the lily-green eyes, to the trim pantsuit that cut perfectly on her figure. I saw Paris in her at a glance, and looking in those eyes and the curve of her frown, I saw Cairo.
“Paris, where’s your brother? Why is his car parked out front?”