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“No silly. I received a wedding invitation from my friend, Caroline. She’s having a destination wedding in the Bahamas, and it’s a three-day celebration.”
“And?”
“Well, Caroline was my friend at school. And then she started dating Robbie, who happened to be their friend, and now she’s marrying Robbie. It’s such a small freaking world.”
“Ah, I see. So, they’ll be at the wedding as well.”
“They will.”
“Well, just don’t go to the wedding or...” Fyre raised her voice to stop Holly from interrupting her. “Or just go be normal, have fun, and don’t worry about them.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“After all that's transpired, you're awesome for believing I can be normal and have fun.”
“You have to go to the wedding. Firstly, it’s your school friend, which makes it important, and secondly, because the only way you’re going to get over them,” Fyre said, air quoting,get over them, “is to take them on in person, but in yourmind... because they don’t probably imagine you the way you do them. See where I’m going with this? So, face your demons head-on, girl. You have to face them and then not think about their cocks’ doing things to you in the middle of the night.”
Holly didn’t mention that she had in fact called Caroline and made a lame excuse why she couldn’t make it. But Caroline had started to cry, and when Holly gave in, she was back to her chirpy self again. So, it was just as well that Fyre wasn’t as clairvoyant as her poster in the park said she was.
“You’re right. I can’tnotgo to Caroline’s wedding. That would be terrible. But I can avoid the crap out of them, both in person and in my mind. And with my new stones and my new protection thing, all I have to do is avoid, avoid, avoid.”
“That’s literally the opposite of what I said, Holly.” Fyre pinched her nose and sighed with great exaggeration, “Fine. Just avoid them the whole weekend, and if you find yourself thinking about them, just remember that they’re ugly. They eat ice cream without turning it into soup ice cream first. They have fur on their teeth.”
“Yes, and they have toads for cocks, and I bet their semen is all dusty…”
“What?” Fyre burst out laughing. “Dusty semen?” Fyre went to her fridge and retrieved half a chocolate cake on a platter.
“Oh, who am I kidding? They probably don’t have dusty semen. I bet their semen just about glitters... from all the use it gets with the ladies.” Oh god, was she now seriously getting jealous of women she didn’t know, who they fancied?
But Fyre was right. They barely knew she existed. All their encounters with her ended in some sort of hilarious debacle. First the pool, as in, she fell into the pool. Then came the agonizing family portrait, where instead of smiling as everyone else did while saying cheese, she misunderstood the assignment and sneezed. They also didn’t want to take another photo because the sun was setting so beautifully behind them, and they couldn’t recapture that moment.
So, hanging in the house her mother shared with her husband was said family portrait. She was never going to outlive it. But she also kept the photo in her camera roll to remind herself of what a klutz she was. And compared to Kingston, Nolan, and Fletcher, who looked like fucking models in the family photo without even cracking a smile—because they didn’t crack smiles or joke around—the vast differences between them were blatantly clear. She was a disaster, and they were gods—gorgeous, hot, and so damn sexy.
They weren’t even the ordinary guys next door. No. They were freaking billionaires. Yes, billionaires. They ran conglomerates, and as their dad always mentioned, it was their cunningness, their brilliance, and their aura of innate power, tinged with some darkness, that made them the formidable men they were today.
She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t wished her mother had fallen in love with someone else instead of Mickie West, who came with his own three sons. Yes, he had adopted Kingston, Nolan, and Fletcher from different foster homes and brought them together to be brothers who were bonded by life and not blood. But she wished she hadn't ever met them this way.
She had to stop torturing herself, but she allowed herself to think about them one last time. Kingston, with his hunter’s eyes in a shade of blue so cerulean, she felt as if she were drowning in his deep blue eyes. Nolan, who made her entire body shiver and quake and steal her breath away. Then there was Fletcher, who could melt her into a puddle with just the sound of his voice—deep, husky, raw, and rugged.
Over and above the fact that they were pure male perfection. She didn’t need much of an imagination to know that beneath their clothes, usually suits, they were ripped everywhere. Probably abs for days. And gosh, what about the way they smelled? She had memorized the scent of their cologne within seconds of meeting them and could pick it out from a line of ten other colognes, and she’d be right.
But yes, all things considered. They were not losing sleep over her. They certainly didn’t have their own Fyre Spirit to supply them with protective rubbles, so they didn’t dream about her. They were dating the most beautiful women in the world, she was sure, without a single thought of their poor little stepsister. Because why would they? They weren’t crazy. They were certainly not dumb. And those were the two components needed for someone to fall for her.
“Hey,” Fyre said softly, touching Holly’s arm.
“You know what? They are no longer allowed to live tent-free in my head. Yes, I have tents in my brain, that’s how I compartmentalize. They don’t even know I’m alive, pining for them like some love, no, some lust-sick koala bear, because no normal person would do that for their stepbrothers because it’s wrong. I need to take charge of the situation and slap them off my mental pedestal.
“Because god knows I can’t afford any more bad luck. I finally have a job I love. A fish, Bubbles the Second, hates me, but that’s a problem for another day, all that matters is that I replaced the fish that died on me. Rest in peace, Bubbles, the First. My kitchen doesn’t flood anymore, and my car works perfectly fine. And look, my hair grew back,” she said, pointing to her messy bun. She then turned, found a cute little teapot on the stove, poured the contents into a cup, and downed it.
“Don’t drink that,” Fyre yelled as she looked up from cutting slices of cake.
Holly covered her mouth with her hand. The tea Fyre usually made her drink never tasted like that before.
“Okay, but was that my tea?” Holly asked, her face contorting.
“No. Holly. That was a concoction for my hair. You just drank rice water, a drop of rosemary oil, and a little coconut oil.”
