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Monday morning rolls around and, as usual, Conner and Cole are waiting for me. I’m barely awake when I pull the car door open and slip inside. “Ace?” I shriek as he grabs me and pulls me onto his lap.
“Morning.” He captures my mouth in a bruising kiss.
“Get a fucking room.” I glance back at Conner, flipping him off, and notice the nasty bruise around his eye.
“What the hell happened to your face?”
“Ask your boyfriend,” he grumbles, pulling onto the street and taking the coastal road toward school.
I slide off Ace’s lap and land with a thud on the worn leather. “This is a nice surprise.”
“Yeah, well, it would seem Cruz and D were right. You do own my balls, Princess.”
His words, although crass, fill me with happiness. “Is that right, huh?” I tease, but Ace crowds me against the seat, staring at me with those frosty eyes of his. “I missed you yesterday.”
“I missed you too.” I trail a finger along his jaw, loving the way he looks at me with total possession. “Did James grill you about Friday?”
“I managed to avoid him all weekend.”
“So... hmm... he didn’t mention the dinner to you?” I brace myself, waiting for Ace’s reaction.
“What fucking dinner?”
“Princess’ birthday dinner. Uncle James wants to take us to some fancy rich place downtown,” Conner pipes up.
“You know about this?” Ace grunts, looking to his brother. Conner nods in the rear view. “You’d know too, if you hadn’t moved out to the pool house.”
“But you seem to be having so much fun with Uncle James.” His tone is scathing.
“Hey,” I say, sliding my hand against his cheek and making him look at me. “Don’t take this out on Conner. I’ve already asked my mom to talk to him.”
“You have?” He blanches.
“Of course. I don’t want to go somewhere you’ll feel uncomfortable. We could eat at Surf’s for all I care.”
“You really asked your mom to talk to him?”
“Yeah.” I smile. “Why?”
“No reason.” He stares past me, and I know he’s lying.
Ace isn’t used to people taking his side, but I’m determined to show him he’s worth it.
“As long as they serve supersize portions, I don’t give a fuck where we go.” Conner grins at me through the mirror. “Hey, do you think we can bring a date?”
“No,” Ace and I say in unison.
“But you two get to—“
“Con,” Ace barks.
“Yeah, yeah. Keep my mouth shut,” he murmurs, and realization dawns on me.
“Tell me you didn’t hit him because I slipped up the other night,” I whisper-hiss at Ace.
“He’s a fucking traitor.”
“Heard that,” Conner says.
