“I think I can flip this place for some good money,” I say in a hushed, reverent tone. “Or maybe even turn it into a Bed and Breakfast. It will just take some sweat, equity, and a hella lot of coats of paint.”
“You hate sweating,” Cinder points out, as she toys with the dirty, plum-colored curtains in the front room.
It’s then I notice an absence of air conditioning units. Oh faefucks. I do hate sweating.
Running my fingers on the staircase banister, I leave a clear, clean trail behind. My tips are instantly blackened by the grime.
“Now you’ve done it,” Red says with a small smile. “Now we’ll have to clean the rest.” She disappears down the hall, toward the kitchen.
“If you think I’m scrubbing these floors, you’re out of your damn mind.” Cinder shakes her head.
I reach out and give her arm a squeeze. “I would never. I’m only asking you to come over for mimosas once the place is spiffed up.” I pause, cocking my head in thought. “Or maybe drink mimosas while watching me work, to keep me company.”
Cinder nods solemnly. “I can do that.” Then she eyes a neglected broom in the corner, covered in cobwebs. She grabs it, wiping it off with her hands. “I suppose for you, I can sweep.” She points a finger at me in warning. “Only one, maybe two rooms.”
Before she can say another word, I grab her for a hug and squeeze her tighter than is necessary as a trill of anxiety goes through me. “I promise I’ll be the best ex-roommate ever.”
I can’t shake the fear that my moving out could cause the dynamics to change overnight. I try to tell myself my friend isn’t so changeable, but I still can’t get rid of the icky little anxiety.
Cinder drops the broom to hug me back. “We’ll always be friends, you know that, right?” she says quietly, giving me an extra squeeze. “Even if I don’t wake up to one of your baked goods or need you to do my makeup and hair for work.”
“Of course,” I say, even as something twists in my chest.
I nod, forcing a smile though a bitter memory flashes in my mind—a group of girls whispering, their eyes fixed on me, their laughter sharp and piercing. The fear of being cast out, still haunts me, making moments of reassurance like this both precious and necessary.
Something at the back of my mind calculates how I can be an even better friend to Cinder after moving out, so she doesn’t change her mind about that. Periodically showing up with her favorite green tea mochi, might just do the trick.
Refocusing on the house, I pause. My heart pounds against my ribs.
What if I fail. . . again? What if everyone was right about me?
I take a deep breath, steeling my resolve.No. I've worked too hard to give up now. I can do this.
This place could really be something, and I don’t intend to waste the chance.
Potential. This place is nothing but potential.
“Hey girls,” Red calls out from the kitchen in an overly nasal voice, like she is plugging her nose. “I found out what died in here.”
Okay, potential and a body or two. Nothing I can’t handle.
Chapter3
My Brother, The Slut
TED
When the leggy, disheveled brunette walks into my kitchen wearing nothing but a man's shirt that nearly hits her knees, I’m not surprised.
Pissed as hell, but not surprised.
Her scent slips up my nose before sliding down the back of my throat and spreading onto my tongue. It’s an overpowering concoction of cashmere wood, plum, and—ugh—sex with my brother.
The downside of having a supernaturally strong sense as a werebear. Smells instantly turn into taste. One of the numerous reasons why I like to live out in the forest is the clean scents.
I continue to sip my coffee and read the paper, my hip resting against the sink, acting like I can’t see her.
Unfortunately, she doesn’t take the hint.
