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Back in the bedroom, I open the second door expecting to find a small walk-in closet much like mine, but as with the bathroom, this one is much larger. And as with his bedroom, it gives an air of sophistication I don’t associate with Landon.
Why do none of his spaces seem to fit him?
Resisting the urge to delve deeper into the world of Landon Atwater, I refocus on what I’m meant to be doing in here and grab him some clothes. I try not to pay too much attention to his underwear—my god, Hayden, why? Why send me to do this?—and manage to emerge from the closet without dying from the mortification of being in Landon’s room without his knowledge or permission and handling hisunderwear.
Once his bag is packed, I hoist it over my shoulder and hit the light on my way out of the room. I close the door so it’s just as he left it aside from the items I removed.
Hayden is off the phone and waiting for me on the couch with Mom. He stands when he sees me coming down the stairs.
“Thank you, Parker.”
“I couldn’t find a school bag,” I tell him.
“It may be in his car. I’ll grab it.” He reaches for the bag, but before he can take it, the sound of the front door opening steals everyone’s attention.
I feel the temperature in my body shoot way up when Landon comes striding down the hall.
“What are you doing here?” Hayden asks.
“Oh, I live here,” Landon shoots back like a smartass. Then he adds more bitingly, “At least for now, right?”
“Yeah, thanks to me,” Hayden replies, the annoyance thick in his tone. “BecauseIconsistently clean up your messes. If your own behavior dictated where you’re sleeping, you’d be in a jail cell. Maybe I should have let them put you in one, because you don’t seem to be learning anything by me bailing you out. This is the last time, Landon. Next time you pull something like this, you can find your own way out of it.”
Landon nods with attitude. “All right, I see how it is. You’ll pick the scheming bellydancer over me, you’ll pick Aladdin over me—is there anyone I come before? Just curious.” Then he waves a dismissive hand in Hayden’s direction before starting up the stairs. “Nah, don’t bother answering. You’re a professional liar, doesn’t fucking matter what you say.”
“That’s a convenient way to frame it, Landon. You tried to get a manfiredfor no fucking reason, andI’mthe villain.You can’t mess with people’s lives for your own amusement.”
“Like you haven’t,” Landon shoots back, shaking his head in apparent disgust.
“I don’t do things without reason,” Hayden states.
“Neither do I,” Landon answers. “And tried to get him fired?” he asks, the ridicule thick in his tone. “Please. I didn’t try very fucking hard, now did I? I was just messing with him tonight. If I want the asshole fired,” now his gaze shifts to me, “I’ll make sure to put in a little more effort and get the job done.”
My stomach sinks because that definitely felt like a threat, and I’m not sure it was subtle enough for our parents to miss it.
Mom surprises me by inserting herself into the conversation. “Why do you have a problem with Javier? He was perfectly nice to all of us.”
I start to sweat at Mom zeroing in on that. Of course Javier was polite to all of us—he was doing his job—but we all know he was a littlemorefriendly toward me.
“Aladdin? Aw, what’s not to like about him? Aside from the fact that he clearly wants to fuck your daughter, anyway.”
“Landon,” Hayden snaps.
Well, this is all the evidence I need that humanscan’tactually die from mortification.
Mom flinches at the crass way he speaks about me, but while that would ordinarily deter her, she keeps pushing. “Why do you call him that?”
Landon’s eyes widen. “Because the guylookslike fucking Aladdin, Gemma. Jesus Christ. He looks like he just popped out of the Disney cartoon and started parking cars. He’s even got the vest. All he needs is a fucking monkey.”
Mom considers that, then nods. “Now that you say that, I suppose I can see it.” Then her gaze meets Landon’s and she asks the million dollar question. “But even if he does like Parker, why do you care?”
Hayden doesn’t seem to want Landon to answer this question. Before Landon can open his mouth, he snatches Landon’s bag from my hands and walks it over to the stairs. “There’s no sense in arguing about this anymore. What’s done is done. I handled it this time, but if you do it again, you’re on your own.” Holding out the bag I packed for him, Hayden adds, “You’re already packed, so there’s no reason for you to go upstairs.”
Landon stares at his father. A smirk tugs at his mouth, but there’s no amusement dancing in his deep green eyes. It’s pure malevolence. “You just couldn’t wait to get me out of here, huh?”
“You know that’s not true, Landon. All I want is for all of us to get along, and there’s no reason we shouldn’t be able to.”
But we all know that’s not true.
