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“Michael!”
“Sabrina,” he implored, “I’m trying to find the middle ground here. Let them come, show their faces, and then they can leave.”
“Or we can stick around and drink all the free champagne if you’d prefer that?” Max smirked and I found myself resisting the urge to chuckle.
Max liked to antagonize our parents—especially Mom. But it was worse than usual lately, the two of them butting heads over anything and everything. Usually, she let him win. Let him avoid anything business related. At least, that way, he wouldn’t show her up. But it seemed today she had decided we would present a united front.
“You really are incorrigible.”
“I have no idea what that means,” he snorted.
“Adjective. Not able to be changed or reformed,” I said.
“That is not normal.” He rolled his eyes. “You really need to get out more.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. Not the most mature response but I was too exhausted to verbally spar with him.
Zane had texted me earlier out of the blue. Of course, his grandma had put him up to it. Which is precisely why I’d left him hanging when he asked me what I was up to. But the fact he’d asked someone for my number—most likely Chloe since I didn’t think he would ask Harleigh or Nix—was still confusing.
I was trying not to read too much into it. It was difficult though when all I could think about was how it felt to have his mouth on mine while his fingers made me come apart.
Why couldn’t I have just liked Miles the way I liked Zane?
Miles was good and nice… and safe. Miles wouldn’t hurt me or say cruel, wicked things.
But I’d tried good and nice and safe, and it didn’t make my stomach flutter like a swarm of butterflies were soaring inside me.
Everyone deserved to feel that trickle of anticipation, the heart-stopping rush every time you were close to the object of your desires. And even though the best friend in me found it hard that he’d moved on so quickly, part of me hoped Miles had found that with Marcy. He deserved it. They both did.
“This is non-negotiable,” Mom said. “I want us to go as a family and we will. We leave at five. If you decide not to follow these simple instructions, Max, you can expect to be grounded until you can act like a reasonable adult.”
“Bullshit. You haven’t grounded me since I was thirteen.”
“Yes, well, I’m beginning to think we’ve gone too easy on you.” She pinned him with a scathing look. “Your attitude lately is reprehensible.”
“Again, with the big words, Mom. I have no—”
“Adjective. Deserving censure or condemn—”
“Thank you, Professor Merriam-Webster.” Max rolled his eyes.
“Wow, I’m surprised you even know what that is.”
“I’m surprised you have any friends,” he said. “Oh wait, you don’t.”
“Max!” Dad chided but it was too late. My brother’s thoughtless taunt had landed its blow, punching me straight in the stomach.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I said.
“Come on, Sis, I didn’t mean it. I’m just stressed because Mom is clearly on the rag and—”
“Maximilian Rowe-Delacorte, you will not…”
Their raised voices became inaudible rumbles as I rushed upstairs to my room. Max was an insensitive ass at times, but I wouldn’t hold it against him too much. Something was going on with him, something he’d yet to confide in me. If he ever did. Knowing my brother, he would rather take his secrets to the grave than actually trust me to keep them.
The second I slipped into my room, my cell phone vibrated, my heart doing a silly little flip at the sight of Zane’s name again.
Zane: Ignoring me, Einstein? That’s not very neighborly of you. Grams will be disappointed.
