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Lottie drops the boy’s hand like it’s fire, eyes wide and surprised as they land on me. “Shit.”
“Lottie, right?” I quirk a brow. “I'm Luna. We didn't get to meet earlier.”
She says nothing, the expression on her face a cross between anger, relief, and whatever you call an expression that indicates you want the ground to swallow you up.
Taking a loud slurp of tea, I nod my head towards the poor cowering boy. “Who's your friend?”
“None of your business.”
I whistle, the corner of my mouth twitching upward. “Attitude? Really? That's how you're deciding to play this?”
Lottie scowls.
“Okay then.” I set down my mug. “I can take a hint. You'd prefer to introduce him to your brother, right? I'll go get him.”
I have no intention of actually getting Jackson—mostly because I'm not sure I could rouse him from his coma—but apparently I'm a better actor than I thought. I barely take a step towards the hall before I'm body-blocked by Lottie.
“Don't. Please.” God, I don't think I've ever heard that word sound quite so impolite.
I feign a thoughtful expression. “Yeah, I think it's a bit late for guests too. You wanna see him out, or should I?”
Oh, Lottie's got the whole pissed-at-the-world thing down to a tee. Her scowl would've knocked me on my ass back in the day, before I became accustomed to bitchy teenage girls. She keeps on scowling as she ushers the boy—who hasn't said a word this whole time but has been staring rather intently at my boobs—out the door.
I can tell she wants to slam it behind him but she doesn't. Probably because it would wake up her siblings, and God forbid anyone else gets dragged into this. When the boy is safely out of earshot, she turns to me, scowl intact, voice a perfect hiss. “That was so fucking uncool.”
I can't help but laugh. “What, did you want me to hand out condoms?”
“You could've just minded your own damn business.”
“Or I could've woken up Jackson and Lux. Come on, you got off easy.”
“Shut up.”
“Hey,” I stand a little straighter, squaring my shoulders. “Watch it.”
“Who do you think you are?”
“A girl who'd prefer not to have to bail her boyfriend out of jail when he gets arrested for murdering an innocent boy.”
“You're a bitch.”
“Must be something in the air.”
I didn't think that scowl could get any more intense, but hey, it does. Steam might as well be pouring out her ears as she narrows her eyes, something almost cruel glinting in them. “Figures. Oscar's last girlfriend was a bitch. Makes sense the rebound would be too.”
I have to make an effort not to visibly flinch.Rebound. That's arguably worse than being called a bitch. Actually, scratch that. It's definitely worse.
As if she senses she's hit a sore spot, Lottie's lips tip upwards in a wicked smirk. “You didn't know, did you?”
I don't say anything.
Lottie snickers, waving her hand in the air. “He's been in love with Caroline since he was thirteen. They get back together every time he comes home. If I were you, I wouldn't get too comfortable.” Still smirking, she pushes past me and heads towards the stairs. “And next time, instead of getting involved in my business, just shut your damn mouth.”
What a littleshit. I've half a mind to yank her back here by her swooshy little ponytail but I reign myself in, letting her stomp upstairs like the monstrous brat she is. I copy her just a little, a stomp to my step as I head back to Jackson’s room.
If she thinks I'm keeping her secret after that little performance, she's dead wrong.
I hate that doubt makes me hesitate before climbing back into bed with Jackson. He stirs, rolling towards me and reaching out lazily, half-open sleepy eyes blink at me. That same little seed of doubt prevents me from cuddling up to him. Instead, I perch on the edge of the bed.
