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“Gotcha!” she yells out, pleased, staring at her phone.
“What? What did you find?” I ask hurriedly, sliding closer to her to catch a glimpse of whatever has grabbed her attention on her phone screen.
“The Monroes are having a Christmas party on their yacht tonight. That’s where our brother is.” She points at her phone.
“Stepbrother,” I correct, staring at the picture that popped up on her social media feed.
Instantly I cringe inwardly when I see Stacy doing a duck face to the camera, while her head is resting on Noah’s shoulder. He’s not looking at the camera, though. Or at her, for that matter. Instead, he’s staring into the horizon, a sea of blue all around them as the sun starts to set. The orange and red hues dipping into the blue abyss behind the couple makes them look that much more ethereal. It’s like a stab to the heart, and all too quickly do I look away, not able to take another second of looking at it.
“Come on. Get up,” my sister orders, patting my knee, suddenly in good spirits. “We’re going to crash that party.”
“Hell no,” I chuckle halfheartedly. “One Monroe party was enough for me, thank you very much.”
“You’re coming and that’s the end of it,” Daisy orders, with steel in her voice, while getting up to her feet.
I swallow dryly, completely unprepared for the disdain in her eyes.
“What did Noah do, Daisy?” I ask, sensing that whatever he did to her is bigger than she’s letting on.
“He just messed with the wrong girl. Let’s leave it at that.”
“But—”
“Enough, Skylar! I don’t want to talk about it. Now get your ass off the couch and follow me.”
I’ve never seen her this angry.
Yes, it’s true that like a struck match to dynamite, Daisy is easy to set off. But after she’s exploded, there has always been a sense of peace afterward. She’s never been one to hold on to grudges. That’s my field of expertise, not hers.
So what gives?
Not wanting to add gasoline to the already blazing fire, I do as she says and stand up, following her upstairs to her room. Daisy doesn’t say a word as she rushes to her closet, pulling out hangers like it’s a fire sale. I know the minute she finds what she wants, since her smile stretches a mile wide on her face.
“Perfect,” she says, eyeing a little black dress that leaves very little to the imagination.
“You’re going to freeze half to death in that thing. It is December, you know?”
“I’m not the one who will be wearing it. You are.”
“Like hell I am,” I stammer, taking a step back.
“Put it on, Sky. That’s an order,” she insists, placing the dress on her bed.
I bite my inner cheek, wanting to tell her that she can’t boss me around like that, but when she steps closer to me, and gently grabs hold of my hands, all my rage vanishes.
All because my sister’s eyes hold a vulnerability in them I’ve never seen before.
Ever.
Daisy has always been a force of nature.
Impenetrable.
To see her like this has a fist squeezing my heart into a vise grip.
“I need you to come to this party with me. I need you, Sky. Can you do this for me?”
Damn it, Noah.
