“What?” She nearly chokes again and I keep the bottle of water on the ready. “I mean, what? How can you make something this tasty on your first try?”
“Internet recipes. Ever heard of them?”
“My internet recipe trials have been major disasters to the point that Mum kicked me out of the kitchen. After I lit the stove on fire.”
“Lucky for you, I’m an okay cook.”
“Are you trying to piss me off by being modest? You’re like a genius.”
“So everyone keeps saying today as if it’s a new discovery. I was born a genius, baby.”
“Don’t be cocky.”
“It’s my charm, though.”
She rolls her eyes but continues eating, releasing a satisfied noise every now and then. It’s similar to a moan, but not really, and I could watch her all day.
Glyndon has grace, even while eating. There’s an elegance to her movements and a regal aura to her presence. A part of me yearns to tarnish it in all the worst ways.
And protect it, too.
“I can’t believe this is your first time,” she mumbles after swallowing the contents of her mouth.
“Jealous much, my little rabbit?”
Her head tilts in my direction, causing the blonde and honey-colored strands to camouflage half her face. “What’s with that nickname?”
“You were running fast yesterday. I liked it.”
“Well, I didn’t like what you did afterward. Why the hell did you post that picture on IG?”
“My, baby. Are you stalking me?” I grin. “Mom, come pick me up. I’m scared.”
She smiles, then hides it. “It should be the other way around, prick.”
I jokingly hit my shoulder against hers. “Got to stake a claim so no one dares to come near what’s mine. Like dear old Stuart.”
“Stop making fun of him. You’re unbelievable.”
“And so is your ‘my type’ painting. Delete that.”
“No.”
“Do I have to go the difficult road with this?”
Her lips part again, and she stops picking at her salad to survey her surroundings. “You can’t do anything. We’re in public.”
“Think again.” I snatch her phone from her lap and place it in front of her face, unlocking it.
When she comes out of her daze, I’m already on her Instagram and proceed to delete the ‘my type’ picture.
“Have you ever heard of privacy?”
“Don’t believe in that word when it comes to you.” While I’m at it, I go to her contacts and see what she named me.
“Psycho’s cute.” I kiss her cheek and she freezes as I take a selfie and then put it as the display picture. “There. Much better. You can ogle this when you miss me.”
“As if!”
I chuckle as she tries to retrieve her phone and fails. Over and over.
Finally, she gives up and throws daggers with her eyes in my direction. “Ugh. Dick.”
“I see your repertoire of insults has gotten richer.”
“Learned from the best.”
“Happy to help. How are you going to pay me? I vote for a BJ.”
“In your dreams.”
“In my dreams, your blood is smeared all over my cock, so unless you want to recreate the image, I suggest you change the subject.” I grab her hand and place it on my bulge.
Her cheeks turn crimson as she retracts her hand back fast. “Perv.”
“If you believe that to be an insult, think again.”
She releases a breath but chooses to continue eating instead.
So I prompt. “By the way, where should we go later?”
“Why do we have to go anywhere?”
“Because we’re dating, or whatever label you want to put on it. In retrospect, that means you’re mine.”
She releases an exasperated sigh.
“Come to the mansion. Niko is throwing a party.”
“Pass. That’s not my scene.”
“Hmm. Then what is?”
“Quiet nights. Cozy blankets and a thought-provoking film. Those types of things.”
“Your idea of fun is even worse than your taste in men.”
“Too bad I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
“Too bad you’re getting it. What movie are we watching tonight? I’ll bring snacks.”
“We are not watching anything.”
“Then come to the party.”
“No.”
“I wasn’t asking, Glyndon. Either movie night or party night.” I tilt my head to the side. “By the way, if you leave me on Read again, I’ll jump onto your balcony and abort the nice phase.”
20
GLYNDON
“Oh, please, that’s such a lame fantasy.”
I pause at the entrance of the flat upon hearing Ava’s voice. After further inspection, I find all three girls huddled up in the living area with Pride & Prejudice, the 2005 version, playing on the TV.
Annika’s obsession aside from Tchaikovsky.
I drop my bag in the nearest corner and join them. Cecily gets up, smooths the wrinkles on my bag, and hangs it before coming back again with a cup of tea in hand.
Her T-shirt for today says Manifesting the ability to punch people on the internet.
“Glyn!” Ava leans against me because she has no sense of boundaries. “Back me up on this.”
“What are we discussing?”
“Fantasies,” Annika says. “Cecily said her fantasy is finding a nice, normal man since that’s so rare nowadays.”
“It is.” Cecily takes a sip of her tea. “Sorry, I’m lame.”
“You’re lying.” Ava crosses her arms over her fuzzy pajamas. “A year ago, you said your fantasy was to be ambushed in a dark place and taken against your will.”
The cup of tea shakes in Cecily’s hand and she pales.
“Hey…” I inch to Cecily’s side and put my hand on her shoulder, then glare at Ava, “We agreed to not talk about that again.”
“Don’t act high and mighty. You said something similar, too. What was it? Oh, you want to fight it and be forced to take it, even when you say no. I can’t be the only one who remembers that.”
My cheeks go red as the memories return. I definitely said that back at Remi’s birthday party when the three of us got drunk and talked about our forbidden fantasies.
Then we realized how fucked up those sounded and agreed to never talk about them again. Before Ava disappeared on us in the middle of the night.
Was I anticipating what would happen with Killian?
I can’t believe I’m caught up in a classic ‘be careful what you wish for’ scenario.
Cecily’s shaking. She’s not the type who shakes. Now that I think about it, she looks paler than usual today, as if she’s seeing a ghost everywhere she goes.
I tighten my hold on her shoulder. “We were drunk, Ava.”
“It was the truest thing you two prudes have ever said.” She shrugs, then grins. “What’s your fantasy, Anni?”
“Uh, am I supposed to have one?”
“Of course you are. What’s the first thing you thought about when you were growing up and thought to yourself, ‘Shit, my parents should never know about this side of me’?”
“Oh. You mean that.” Annika slides her fingers over her phone’s sparkling purple case. “I guess, I always wanted to be kidnapped.”
We all stare at her, dumbfounded.