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“She’s poison, Wilder. The worst of the worst.”
He laughs, nudging me on the bed. “She’s not that bad.”
“You don’t know her like I do.” I sit up and push him away. I might be acting like a child, but I just need some space to breathe right now. I need to forget who is in my house, touching my things, eating my food, and showering in my fucking bathroom.
“I know enough. She’s book smart and sweet. Had you not given her the typical Rome welcome, you two could have been friends.” He acts like he’s disappointed in me for treating her like shit. It’s only because he doesn’t know.
My nostrils flare as I try to be as polite as possible, failing miserably when the words pass through my lips. “That bitch will never be my friend.”
“Are you sure this isn’t really about school and Coach putting you on the?—”
“Don’t!” I snap. “Don’t even fucking go there.” My teeth grind as I try to get a grip on the monster inside, rearing its ugly head.
Wilder throws his hands up defensively as he stands, knowing this is a conversation I refuse to have. “All right. Too soon. Just know that, eventually, you have to talk about it.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” I look away, training my eyes on the television.
“Gotcha. Well, I’ll be downstairs eating a delicious warm meal with our delightful new family. Soft pasta. Mmm. Marinara and cheese with garlic bread on the side.”
“Yeah. You enjoy that.” I pull the pillow out from behind me and toss it at him as he exits my room. The fucker closes the door just in time to dodge the pillow and it falls to the floor.
CHAPTER 6
ROME
Skipping dinner wasn’t smart on my part. My stubbornness overpowered my hunger and now here I am at midnight, cooking a frozen pizza while everyone else in the house sleeps.
I shove the pizza in the oven before the preheat timer even goes off because I’m impatient as fuck, then I head downstairs to the family room to watch the Broncos game I recorded earlier. I had every intention of watching it with Wilder and Callan after they had dinner, but the dipshits invited the girls down here to hang with them. No way in hell would I choose to hang out somewhere she is, so I went to the gym instead.
Our family room is spacious and I probably could have gone without having to look at her face. Knowing she’s near, though, instantly makes my skin crawl. It’s comparable to the sensation of a thousand tiny insects climbing all over me. Possibly worse.
Above the gas fireplace is a seventy-five-inch flat screen with a sectional pointed at it. There’s also a full bathroom down here, as well as Sayer's new room. I fought Dad hard on letting me have the room in the basement, but for some reason, he thinks if Wilder or I had it, we’d sneak chicks in and raid the bar. Not that we don’t do that already. Now, Elodie has my old bedroom and bathroom. Lake is in Sayer’s old room, and she and Brogan are sharing his old bathroom. It’s a fucked-up situation I’m not happy about.
In the far corner down here, we’ve got a built-in bar. On the other side of the room, there’s a pool table and foosball. Neither get much use anymore, but before my mom passed away, we’d have family game nights down here and pool was always my game of choice.
Our house has become the hangout spot for all our friends, and that’s what this space is for. We play video games, watch football, Netflix and chill.
I drop down on the couch and recline, kicking my feet up as I grab the remote. My head rests back for a second while the television powers on and I close my eyes. It’s been a long fucking day.
The next thing I know, the sound of a smoke detector is ringing in my ears. My eyes pop wide open as the blaring sound continues.
“What the hell is that?” I grumble, and without hesitation, I leap to my feet and hurry to the stairs, not stopping until I'm pushing open the door at the top.
I step up into the hallway, my nostrils immediately assaulted with the stench of something burning.
Is the house on fire? Is someone cooking?
Fuck! My pizza.
As quick as the sound hits my ears, it stops. I hurry down the hall into the kitchen, only to find Elodie fanning a towel over her head beneath the smoke detector.
“Jesus, Rome.” Elodie scoffs, wearing a black mitten while tossing down a pan of burnt pizza on the stove. “Don’t tell me this is your doing?”
“Fuck my life,” I grumble as I walk right past her to my pizza. It’s now a blackened disk, sitting on top of a scorched pan. A thin trail of smoke curls from it, and there’s a faint sizzling sound.
Elodie tosses the towel on the center island with a hefty sigh. “You’re welcome for saving your ass.”
I flash her a condescending look and tsk. “I didn’t ask for your help.”
