by Becca Steele
“What’s the matter, mate? She was tired, and she crashed here, and needed something to wear to bed. I just grabbed what I could. So she ended up in your T-shirt. No big deal.” Cassius shrugged, clearly struggling not to laugh. Right. He’d done this on purpose.
“I’ll take it off, shall I?” I raised a brow, placing my hands on the hem of the very plain, generic black cotton tee—no idea how Caiden knew it was his.
“Leave it on,” Caiden barked out. “No one needs to be put off their breakfast before they’ve even eaten.”
Wow. Could he make it any clearer that he despised me?
Before I knew what I was doing, I’d thrown the mushrooms into the pan and was stepping right up to him, so close that I could feel the heat from his body as he glared down at me. “You might want to wash your hands. They’re looking a little pink, King Caiden.”
He stepped even closer, his body pressing into mine, and I suddenly found it difficult to breathe. “King Caiden, huh? If I’m the king, then get on your knees and worship me.”
A shudder ran through me at his low, harsh rasp. I met his dark gaze, seeing the barely restrained fury clear in his eyes, and I steeled myself, welcoming the anger that surged within me, smothering the lust. “Fuck you,” I spat through clenched teeth. “If you’re insinuating that I can suck your dick, I’d rather choke to death on my own vomit than have that anywhere near my mouth.”
“Get out of my sight,” he hissed, to the sound of muffled laughter behind us, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to remain under control.
“Sorry, can’t. I’m in the middle of making breakfast.” I shrugged. He growled and pushed past me, stalking over to the sink and turning the tap on. Thrusting his hands under the jet of water, he scrubbed at them, scowling.
“Did you get all the paint off your car?” There was amusement but also concern in Cassius’ voice.
“Yes.” Caiden glanced in my direction, a sneer on his lips. “Nice try, Winter, but your spray paint was washable.”
“I’ll remember to buy the stuff that doesn’t wash off next time, then,” I snapped, turning back to the cooker, my eyes stinging with frustrated tears. I was so fucking fed up with the constant hostility coming from him, and after the events of last night, I was rapidly reaching the end of my tether.
He’d learn not to mess with me.
I silently made the omelette and slid the large pan onto the centre of the island. “There. I’ll make another if that’s not enough, but you get a quarter each.”
“Don’t you want any?”
I gave Weston a forced smile. “No, I’m not hungry. I’m just going to go and change into my clothes, then get going.” Watching Caiden out of the corner of my eye, I waited for a moment, then took my chance. I rounded the island, “accidentally” bumping his arm as he raised it, full glass of orange juice in hand, ready to drink, and rushed out of the room to the sound of his angry roar.
“What the fuck!” Ice-cold, sticky orange juice dripped down my torso, running onto the floor underneath my chair.
“You’re such an asshole sometimes, you know.” Weston glared at me, throwing me the roll of paper towels. “You deserved that, and more.”
“What have I done?” I wiped as much of the orange juice away as I could, then climbed off my chair to mop the worst of it from the floor. Good thing the cleaner was due today.
Ignoring the smirk Z was giving me, and the fact I was still covered in juice, I bit into my omelette and groaned in appreciation. I may loathe the girl, even more so after that stunt she’d just pulled, but this omelette was the best I’d ever eaten.
“Didn’t you see her face when you insulted her? I couldn’t decide if she wanted to punch you or cry!” West wouldn’t let it drop.
“Yeah, and did you notice the marks on her face look worse today? The marks you inflicted on her?” Cassius interjected.
An unwelcome sensation of guilt settled in my stomach, but I chose to ignore it. The room fell silent as we finished eating, tension in the air.
Weston stood, carrying his plate to the dishwasher. “At least offer to give her a lift back to uni.”
Cassius nodded, speaking around a mouthful of food. “I agree. I’ll take her bike in my car.”
“Can I get a lift, Cass?” Weston closed the dishwasher with a loud bang.
“Yeah, mate. Go on, then, Cade, ask her. She’s not coming in my car, so you’ll have to take her if you want to make sure she’s gone. Unless you want her hanging around the house…”
I slammed my fork down and looked between them all, Cass and West staring at me expectantly and Zayde’s eyes flicking between us, amusement clear on his face.
“For fuck’s sake.” I left them to it and headed up to shower the juice off me, before I threw on clean jeans and a T-shirt and made my way to the guest room where Winter had been sleeping. Not bothering to knock, I walked in, and my eyes went straight to the bed where Winter was sitting against the headboard, her head in her arms.
What the fuck was I meant to do? I stopped just inside the doorway, jaw clenched. Why did she have to come here and fuck everything up? My brother and Cassius were already half on her side. As for Z? Who knew what the fuck he thought.
I cleared my throat, and her head shot up, her eyes flying to mine. “Get out of here,” she hissed.
“No can do, Snowflake. I’m here to tell you to get your ass showered and ready in the next five minutes, and you’re riding to uni in my car.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No!”
“Stop being so fucking stubborn. Look, I don’t want you in my car, but the boys insist, and I want you out of my house. If none of them are prepared to take you, I’m going to make sure you’re gone.”
Her mouth twisted miserably as she stared at me, and then her face brightened, as if something had occurred to her. “Your car. As in, the pretty R8?”
“For the last fucking time, my car is not pretty.” I gritted my teeth. “Get your ass in the shower, now, or I will put you in there myself. You’re not making me late for my classes.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Her eyes narrowed at me.
“Try me.” I took a threatening step towards her, and she squealed, jumping off the bed and rushing straight into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. I waited until I heard the shower go on, then made my way to my own room to get ready.
Sixteen minutes later we were finally outside the house, after Winter had taken her sweet time getting out of the front door. By the time she’d finished saying goodbye and stashing the piece-of-shit bike in Cassius’ SUV, my patience had run out. I stood by the open door of my car, my jaw clenched as I watched her fucking around wasting time.
“Winter, get in my fucking car, now. You’re going to make me late.”
“I’m saying goodbye,” she shouted back, then threw up her middle finger at me and wrapped her arms around Cassius. He smirked at me over her shoulder and put his arms around her waist, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.
That. Was. It.
I pushed away from the car and strode over to her, ripping her away from Cassius and hauling her over my shoulder.
“Put me down, right now,” she screeched, her hands flailing ineffectually on my back. I heard Cassius’ howling laughter behind me. Asshole.
I opened the door with one hand and deposited her inside the car, slamming the door shut, then quickly got into my side and started the engine before she could do something stupid like try to get out.
“What the fuck are you playing at?” I stared at her, my teeth bared in a snarl.
She looked back at me, completely fucking unrepentant. “I told you. I was saying goodbye.” Our eyes remained locked, tension filling the space between us. “I don’t appreciate you throwing your weight around. I already told you that yesterday. Look at what you did to my face.”
My eyes scanned her head and h
er nose, that same uncomfortable feeling of guilt rising in me as I took in the red, scraped skin. Fuck.
“Sorry.”
We were both shocked by the words that fell from my lips.
She sighed heavily and collapsed back against the seat, and I put the car into gear, moving smoothly down the driveway and onto the road.
“I’m not sorry for what I did to your car. Or spilling orange juice on you, just so you know.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes at her words, not bothering to answer, instead turning on the stereo and setting the volume high enough to get it through her head that there was no more talking. The sooner she was away from me, the better. I broke every speed limit to get us to university and her out of my space as soon as possible.
The second we reached the campus car park, she got out without another word, storming away towards her apartment building. As soon as she’d gone, I felt like I could fucking breathe again.
Until the text arrived from my dad.
The three of you are expected at a party next Saturday that Christine and I are hosting. Formal wear. 7pm. Don’t be late and don’t do anything to show us up.
Fucking brilliant.
NINE
“Miss Huntington.” Allan smiled as I stepped into the foyer of the Cavendish house, the taxi pulling away behind me with a loud screech. “I’ll show you to your room.”
I trailed him up the wide, curving staircase, down a long corridor, the walls hung with portraits, to an ornate gilt door. He opened it with a flourish and indicated I should enter the room first.
“This is your bedroom.”
The room was huge, with a mahogany four-poster bed taking up the centre, plush carpets, and heavy curtains either side of a large window that had a stunning view of the sea. Dropping my bag on the floor next to the bed, I crossed to the window.
“The bathroom is through those doors.” I turned around to Allan as he pointed to my left. “I’ll leave you to get settled in. Mistress Cavendish is expecting you downstairs at seven o’clock.”
I nodded, and he left, closing the door behind him.
When I’d received the text from Arlo Cavendish, requesting my attendance at a party, I’d begun planning. It was the perfect opportunity to investigate, and I’d managed to wangle an overnight stay—an easy task, as it turned out Caiden and Weston were also staying over. My mother had actually called me herself to discuss the importance of “putting on a united front,” as apparently people were curious about me and desperate to sniff out any hint of tension between us. Since I needed to stay on her good side, in order to get to the point in our relationship where I felt comfortable questioning her about my dad, I was prepared to play nice.
So. Here I was. Dressed and ready for the party. My long, dark hair was perfectly curled, falling down my back, and my dress was…not quite the formal wear my mother had insisted on. More an approximation. Black, super short, and silky, with a flared skirt and a deep V-neck that ended underneath my breasts, it made my legs look miles long especially when I paired it with my sky-high Louboutins—a brand of shoes I’d never owned until my mother had couriered me a note written on heavy vellum paper, ordering me to visit a particular boutique in Alstone. I’d turned up to find the shop assistants prepared for my arrival, and I’d spent almost an hour trying on clothes and shoes. While I hated the thought of owing my mother anything, she’d been the one who had planned this party, and if she wanted me to dress in designer wear, I certainly wasn’t going to use any of the small amount of money I had remaining on clothing I’d probably never wear again.
I peered into the mirror one last time to make sure that the remaining bit of redness from my carpet burns were covered by foundation and slicked on some lipstick—“Scarlet Witch”—before fastening a delicate gold chain around my neck.
I was ready.
Heading downstairs, I skated around the red velvet rope that marked the upstairs as out of bounds and followed the sounds of talking. I was about to enter the room where the noise was coming from when my arm was yanked back. Wobbling on my heels, I lost my balance and flailed, trying to stop myself from falling.
I was caught by a solid body at my back and large hands at my waist, steadying me.
“Wait.” The low hiss was right by my ear, his face so close that his stubble was brushing the side of my jaw.
Caiden. I shivered at his proximity, and then the pain radiating up my arm registered. And just like that, my lust or whatever hormonal reaction I was having to him disappeared as I stiffened in his hold.
“How many fucking times have I told you not to manhandle me?”
He kept hold of me. “Actually, it wasn’t me that grabbed you. That was Zayde. I stopped you from falling.” His lips were so close to my ear. Too close.
I didn’t want to move.
Despite knowing it was a bad idea, I relaxed against him, feeling the heat of his body warming my back.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing, Snowflake?” His words were hissed in my ear, vaguely threatening, but his tone was more curious than annoyed.
Interesting.
“Leaning on you,” I answered nonchalantly.
I had no idea what I was doing.
He stepped back, dropping his hands from my waist, moving one to my back to make sure I was balanced before he let go.
I whirled around. “Cai—” My words died away as I took in the four of them. Weston, Zayde, Cassius, and Caiden. All dressed in formal suits.
So. Fucking. Hot.
Cassius and Weston were smiling at me, as usual, Zayde gave me a blank look, and Caiden stared at me, his stormy eyes darkening as his gaze raked over my body.
“Fucking hot,” Cassius stated, licking his lips.
“I was just thinking the same about you. All of you.” It was easy to see why they were so popular on campus.
I shifted on my heels, suddenly uncomfortable with being the object of their focus. “Why’d you stop me, anyway?” My question was to Zayde, but he ignored me. It was Weston who spoke up.
“We need to display a united front. No sign of tension, act politely, mingle, basically act like we’re all friends. Oh, and like we just love being around our parents.”
A united front. I guess they’d been given the same talk I had. Of course—that was why Caiden had stopped me from falling. Keeping up appearances. No doubt he would have let me drop to the floor in a heap if we hadn’t been in our parents’ house.
“Why do you want to do this? You’re all adults. Why do you even have to be here, if you don’t want to?”
“Trust fund. We don’t get it until we’ve graduated from university, so until that point, Dad likes to remind us that he has control over what we do. If we don’t play nice when he wants us to, we don’t get the money.” Weston shrugged, and Caiden glared at him. Guess he didn’t want Weston sharing that piece of information with me.
“Right.” I rolled my eyes. Money was more trouble than it was worth. I mean, yeah, it was great to have it, but I’d rather not be indebted to anyone. Then again, I’d never been rich. Maybe my view would be different if I was.
Of course, I didn’t have to worry about the trust fund issue since I doubted my mother would have made provisions for me. I had no idea what her financial situation was, either. All I knew was that she was on the board of Alstone Holdings, which probably meant she had money of her own, but it could well be tied to Arlo Cavendish. If he had any sense, he’d have made her sign an ironclad prenup before they got married.
I sidled up to Weston, tucking my arm through his. “Come on, bro. Let’s do this.”
“The feelings I’m having about you right now in that dress aren’t very brotherly,” he told me, pulling me closer to him.
“That’s okay, we’re not properly related. I’m fine with you ogling me.”
“I don’t think Cade shares your opinion.”
Swinging my gaze from Weston’s to Caiden’s, I noticed the tense set of his jaw and the way hi
s fists clenched at his sides.
“I’ll escort her in,” he bit out. “I’m the older brother. It should be me.”
“You’re pulling the older brother card. Really?” Weston snorted in amusement.
“Woah, boys. No need to argue. I don’t need escorting anywhere.” I stepped back from Weston, towards Cassius.
“You can walk with me, babe.” He bent down to murmur in my ear, and I smiled up at him.
“Why can’t Caiden be as nice to me as you?” I didn’t mean to speak as loudly as I did.
I noticed Cassius smirking over the top of my head. “His social skills aren’t as good as mine. It’s sad, really.” He raised his voice. “You want some pointers on how to treat a woman, Cade?”
“Fuck. Off.”
I turned to look at Caiden, his eyes flashing with anger, an irritated frown on his face. Despite his general behaviour towards me, I didn’t actually want to cause a scene at this party. I needed things to go smoothly, so I guessed it was up to me to pacify him.
I sighed heavily, addressing Cassius. “I’m going in with Caiden. If he kills me, you can have my car.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll have your laptop, though.”
“Deal.”
Before Caiden could say anything else, I was by his side. “Shall we?” I held out my hand, silently pleading with him to accept. He stared at me, his mouth set in a flat line.
“What’s that tattoo?” he said suddenly, pointing at my upturned arm.
“You’ve seen it before, haven’t you?” I raised a brow at him.
“I haven’t really taken any notice of it before,” he admitted, finally taking my outstretched hand and pulling me closer.
Why did my hand feel so good in his?
“Quadrantids,” I managed to stutter.
“The fuck are you saying? Is that English?”
“The tattoo.”
He dropped my hand and lifted my arm to inspect it, trailing a finger across the meteor shooting across the sky—well, across my arm. What was he doing? I shivered, again. For fuck’s sake.
