Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 148434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
I focus on Charlie.
He’s kicked back on an ornate chair, expensive shoes on a gold dish. Like he has no care in the world—but he’s watching me watch him.
Fans would go ape shit if they saw Charlie Cobalt in this setting. Teenagers would sob and cry outside this house just for a peek of him shirtless while wearing a blue floral suit—tailor-made, probably in the high-thousands—and a black choker necklace.
Most bodyguards have seen his deep flaws, his hatred and pain.
I’ve seen more as I’ve been dating Jane. But I don’t think I’ll ever really know Charlie. I doubt many ever will.
He tilts his head to Audrey. “We have more pressing matters than a stupid cat.”
“Excuse you,” Jane snaps. “This kitten is not stupid. She is an adorable sweetheart. Do you see her just resting in his pocket? It was meant to be.”
My lip almost lifts. I have an arm around my fiancée’s chair. And she looks drop-dead gorgeous.
Like always.
Pastel pink breezy skirt, a cheetah-print blouse and baby blue fur coat. Cat ears studded in rhinestones are perched on her wavy brown hair.
She looks the same as usual, but also different. Jane glows. Head-to-toe effervescence. When she catches me staring, a smile spreads across her rosy cheeks—her freckles more noticeable without any makeup.
Since I arrived, she hasn’t seemed nervous. Not once.
Her faith in me is like a beacon of light guiding my ship to shore.
Charlie rises and leans over the table to peer at Jane. “If it was meant to be, why have you been checking it for flees for the past three minutes?”
Jane has been doing that. Pulling back the kitten’s fur just to ensure I didn’t bring a flee-ridden kitten into her mom’s home.
Great first dinner impression—having to make Rose Calloway flee bomb her entire house. Didn’t think about that.
Mainly because I thought Little Jane was a sign from the Real Jane. Rational thinking was chucked out the fucking window.
“Because she doesn’t want Mom to murder Thatcher.” Eliot pours himself a goblet of wine, a pipe between his lips while wearing a vintage-style coat with tails. He plucks the pipe from his mouth to add more clearly, “We all want our future-brother-in-law to survive tonight.”
My brows pull together. It can’t be that easy. I remember every card I’ve drawn. Every Truth or Dare I’ve completed, my response pissed off at least one Cobalt.
I never pleased all six of her siblings at one time.
It felt impossible.
“Speak for yourself,” Ben says to Eliot.
There it is. That was the reaction I expected.
Ben has a black eye from an ice hockey match that his team won. A blue environmental tee is tight on his toned build, with the slogan: don’t be a fossil fool.
“Still bitter, brother?” Eliot asks.
Ben lets out a heavy breath. “He ate rabbit hearts.” He’s talking like I’m not here. Which isn’t fucking good.
Tom twirls a knife. “We’re about to eat goose.”
Beckett looks to Ben next to him. “And you don’t hate us.”
I can’t tell if they’re defending me or just trying to steer their brother towards a better emotion. But I know Jane has said that Ben is usually fine when other people eat meat around him.
“It’s different. That situation felt different,” Ben emphasizes.
Jane lifts a finger. “I also ate rabbit hearts.”
“You wouldn’t have if Thatcher didn’t. He can perish in one of Mom’s great and terrible fires for all I care. Let him burn alive.”
I wait for the sting, but that blow never comes. His words aren’t a shot to the heart or head. I’m not even surprised that he’s still upset about this.
He’s sixteen. He’s a Cobalt. He’s dramatic, and I’m just honored to be here and understand how this family operates.
No holding back. No holding in.
Let it all out.
“Pippy,” Jane starts.
“He ate some rabbit hearts,” Charlie snaps. “Get the fuck over it, Ben.”
Ben stands up abruptly from his chair. I follow suit, careful not to startle the kitten, and I hold out a hand. “It’s fine.”
But Ben is looking at his empty plate. He’s grinding down on his teeth and trying to stop himself from crying.
“You can hate me,” I say with severity. “I don’t need you to like me right now. Or a year from now or ten years. Just when you’re ready, I hope you can give me a chance.”
Ben slowly takes a seat. And quietly, he says, “You’re here. This is your chance.”
Tonight.
Don’t fucking nuke it.
I lower back down, a hand to my breast pocket (to the kitten), and Jane leans into my shoulder. “He’s going to warm up to you.”
It’s weird to think that I know it’s okay if he doesn’t.
Charlie rests his ass on the edge of the table. Turned towards me, he hoists a single lion-decaled card between two fingers. “Here’s your last one.”
My last one.
That hits me hard. For a long time, I thought this game might be never-ending. That they’d keep filling up the deck every time it got low.