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“Shall we? I’ll show you to your room while your brothers check in,” Freddie offers.
“No, no, we’ll come with you.” Jackson practically skips forward. “We wouldn’t want to miss the chance to make sure thehappy couple have everything they could possibly need for an unforgettable weekend.”
4
FOUR: LILY
Stupid Bellua brothers.
Stupid Brooks.
And stupid Jackson.
And stupid Ori—
Well, he’s the only brother I’m not overly mad at. There’s something about the quiet man that prohibits me from being angry at him for longer than a few minutes.
But still…
Stupid, stalkerish, irritating, pain-in-my-ass Belluas.
I follow Freddie across the lobby as he attempts to engage the twins in conversation. Jackson, of course, smiles and laughs in all the right places, but Orion just nods contemplatively. I can feel his eyes on me like laser beams, despite my steadfast determination to not look over at him. At any of them.
How dare they come back into my life and act like everything’s okay? Like they didn’t abandon me the one day I needed them most of all? Like they weren’t a part of the lowest period I’ve ever experienced, where I found myself swimming in a fathomless black hole I feared I’d never escape from?
I bite down on my lower lip hard enough to draw blood as Brooks once again slings an arm over my shoulder and pulls me close to his chest. It’s not merely for show—there’s a possessiveness in the movement that he directs at Freddie whenever the young man glances over at me.
It makes my hackles rise.
Fighting every instinct in my body not to flip the idiot to the ground, I survey the lobby instead.
According to my research, the Bridgemont was built in the late nineteenth century. Three-tiered chandeliers dangle from the ceiling like earrings, illuminating a spacious lobby furnished in shades of red and burnished yellow, the conflicting colors somehow elegant instead of trashy. Gold drips from the rococo-style moldings. A grand piano rests against the far wall, though no one is currently playing it. A fire burns brightly in the hearth directly across from a collection of circular mahogany tables.
Only one table is currently occupied, and I spot an older couple holding hands.
“So…which two of you are the happy couple?” Freddie offers me a cheeky smile over his shoulder, and I bite down on my lower lip.
This time, it’s not because I’m annoyed with anyone. I’ve perfected a certain level of…seduction over the years, even without Becka’s charms.
Sure, I never had to seduce someone for information with three overbearing assholes fluttering around me, but stranger things have been done before. I once stabbed six vampires without getting a single drop of blood on me. That shit isn’t easy, let me tell you.
“That would be us,” I say in a sultry voice, squeezing Brooks’s arm hard enough for him to grunt out in pain. Good. “But my idiotic husband doesn’t believe in a traditional marriage.” I poutdramatically as I flutter my ringless finger in his direction. “We have more of an…open arrangement.”
I give the concierge a languid once-over as Brooks stiffens by my side.
“Oh.” Freddie’s eyebrows lift in surprise, and a slow grin unfurls on his face.
“Sometimes,” I continue in a conspiratorial whisper, “I take all three of them to bed with me. But we’re always looking for a fifth…”
“For fuck’s sake, Lily,” Brooks growls as I bite down on my chuckle.
“Oh, Toby,” a dramatic voice coos, cutting off my response. “Look at that couple over there. They are like us at their age, before you became so weak and diffident. Oh, to be young and in love!”
All five of us turn towards the couple I noted earlier, only they’ve moved away from the table and now stand directly beside us.
The woman is older, with graying hair coiled into tight ringlets that bounce around her shoulders. She wears a huge, drooping, Audrey Hepburn hat that shadows her aged face. A lace bathrobe sits open over a black satin tank top and matching pajama bottoms. Positioned between long fingers is a cigarette holder, despite the huge sign declaring NO SMOKING ALLOWED directly behind her.
The man appears to be her age, with pale, nearly translucent skin and wispy white hair combed in such a way that it covers an obvious bald spot on the top of his head. Unlike his wife, who looks as if she’s ready for bed, he wears a gray suit with cuff links and a stark-white collar pulled all the way up to the bottom of his cheeks.
