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For a flash of a second, an image of my dream room materializes in my mind. Black and purple walls, a massive four-poster bed enclosed by curtains, a gothic chandelier, and a couple of dressers.
“What does it look like?” Max asks, observing me curiously.
“I don’t know,” I lie, not wanting to give them any sort of ammunition. “I like purple and black, so maybe something with those colors.” I leave it at that.
“Really?” A smile lights up Max’s face. “That’s so weird, because everything in this room is pretty much black or purple.” He pushes open the door and gestures for me to look.
As I tentatively step in, I half-expect the room to be painted in bright-ass orange or something, but nope. Almost everything from the walls to the bed to the chandelier is either a deep purple or a shimmering black. The room is huge, too; almost as big as my old living room and bedroom combined.
“Wow,” I mutter as I turn in a circle, taking in the lavender curtains enclosing the bed and the ebony ceiling that shimmers like stars. “This is …” I glance at Max. “Are you sure this is where I’m supposed to be staying?”
Max points at the boxes piled near the closet—my boxes. “I’m sure.” He crosses his arms and props his shoulder against the doorjamb. “Please don’t let what happened with my brothers affect you too much. I promise my family isn’t a bunch of douchebags. We’re all pretty nice. Foster and Easton are just …” He wavers, tilting his head from side to side.
“Assholes,” I offer.
He laughs softly. “I was going to go with spoiled brats, but assholes works, too.” He nibbles on his lip, his eyes scanning up and down my body.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d wonder if he was checking me out. But I do know better. I know there’s no way this gorgeous guy could be checking me out.
“Do you want me to show you where the kitchen is?” he asks. “You’ve got to be starving.”
I nod. “Yeah, actually. That’d be great.”
His lips turn upward, then he nods as he retreats back into the hallway.
Foster and Easton are no longer lurking around, something I’m grateful for.
“I really am sorry for what my brothers did to you,” Max says as we walk down the hallway. “Give them some time, though, and I’m sure they’ll warm up to you.”
“It’s fine if they don’t,” I say. When he gives me a perplexed look, I add, “It’s not like I’m going to be here for very long. I turn eighteen in six months.”
His brows furrow. “And then what?”
I lift a shoulder. “And then I move out.”
He combs strands of his hair out of his eyes with his fingers. “But, where will you go?”
I shrug again. “College maybe. I might do a road trip with my friends.” I scratch my arm. “I actually really need to get a job so I can save up some cash. This town looks really small, though.”
“It is really small. And the people here are really wary about hiring newbies,” he says. There’s that word again … “If you want a job, you’re probably going to have to look in Star Grove.”
“How far is that?”
“About forty minutes from here.”
I let out a weighted sigh. “Is there a bus that goes there?”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Nope. The only form of transportation here is by your own car. Or, in my case, a motorcycle.”
“Oh.” I crinkle my nose.
“If you need a ride somewhere, I’m sure one of us can give you one.” He slows to a stop in front of a shut door and lifts his hand to knock. “Or you can just borrow one of my dad’s many, many cars.”
Yeah right. I’m nowhere near comfortable asking to borrow a vehicle. I’m just going to have to figure out another way or beg for someone to hire me here.
“He won’t mind,” Max insists, knocking on the door. “My dad’s a nice guy.”
“Yeah, he seems like it,” I agree, but that still doesn’t mean I’m going to ask to borrow his car.
