that?”
“Because you’re dumb.”
I squint my eyes, then stop. Because that makes my head pound worse.
“I have to go. I’m late. Are you staying?”
I open one eye and peel part of my hand away from my eyeball to see him. “Staying home? No. I’m going.”
“Then get your ass up. Take a fucking shower. And…” He pauses. “Look pretty for me today, huh? And bring a bikini.” He pulls me to my feet and kisses me on the cheek as he turns to the door.
My hand comes up to touch the place where his lips just were. “Look pretty for you?” Then I have a brief panic attack. “Did we… do something last night?”
He opens the door to my patio and looks over his shoulder. “No. What the fuck? I wouldn’t take advantage of you when you’re wasted. Give me some fucking credit.” Then he points behind me. “I left some aspirin on the nightstand. Take it. It’ll help. And there’s a travel cup of orange juice and a croissant in that bag. Eat on your way. There’s no breakfast this morning. Today is all business.”
Well. OK, then. I feel like a jerk. “Sorry.”
“Just… put on something nice, OK?” He grins at me. And suddenly those electric-blue eyes that normally broadcast the full depths of his despair are bright and… twinkling. “I know my stepmom’s clothes are kinda slutty, but… I saw your tits yesterday, Cades. Several times. Thanks for that. Kinda got me through the day. And they’re pretty nice. If you’ve got it, might as well flaunt it.”
Then he winks at me.
My mouth drops open. But he doesn’t hang around to explain these comments. Just leaves and closes the door behind him.
I don’t really know what to think about that. Does he… like me? I mean I know he likes me. As a friend. Or ‘frenemy’ might be the more accurate word. But I am living in his house and he was nice to me last night.
I think.
I remember some of it. I remember him holding me. That was nice.
But does he like-like me? Or is this just some new way to get something he needs?
I don’t know. I don’t understand anything right now.
I reach for the aspirin, swallow them, and take a swig of OJ. Then consider the idea that Cooper Valcourt and I might be starting something.
Jesus, Cadee. The effects from the pot must be lingering. I must be high to imagine myself with Cooper. He’s the King. You’re the Fugling.
Never the two shall meet.
And yet… here I am. And he wants me to wear something pretty today.
No. He said, “Look pretty for me today.”
That’s quite a bit different than just ‘Wear something pretty today.’
“Uggh.” I feel like such a dumbass right now.
The shower feels way too good and even though I know I’m in a hurry, I linger in there, letting the hot water pound on the back of my neck until most of the tension and throbbing subsides. I finish washing, then wrap a towel around myself and go back out to find something to wear.
I’m pretty familiar with the closet. I have sorted through most of it already. So there’s not much here that isn’t meant to make a sexy statement.
But then… that’s what Cooper wanted, right?
Shouldn’t a good Fugling please her King?
Yeah. I am never smoking pot again. It’s really fucking with my head.
But I do decide to wear something cute and sexy.
I choose a flashy beaded bikini. Cooper did say this was going to be a bad day for the pledges and an easier day for me, so I see a pool in my future. Then I cover it up with a flirty yellow flare skirt made of several layers of sheer chiffon and a loose gauzy button-down that I leave buttoned down.
When I study myself in the mirror, I do look both sexy and cute.
I put my hair up, trying my best to make it look professionally messy the way Mona does, and then hurriedly slip on my sneakers. They don’t match. They’re red, but oh, well. I did my best. Then I grab my croissant and slip out the door, hoping Mona might be smoking on her patio and we can walk to the Glass House together.
But she’s not.
Bummer. I feel like my original plan with Mona might not be so stupid. We could be friends. And if I make it through the summer and go to High Court next year, I’ll need a friend. I could do a lot worse