Pretty Boy (Perfect Boys #1) - K.M. Neuhold Page 0,33

me into a hug immediately. She’s always been affectionate and a bit over the top in all things. She looks like she’s dressed for fashion week in Paris instead of a casual brunch at home, but I’ve stopped being surprised by these things. Her dark hair matches mine, but she got our mother’s blue eyes rather than the brown I got from our father. She kisses my cheek and then steps past me, heading straight for the kitchen, no doubt to mix the mimosas and Bloody Marys.

Kiernan steps in next, his auburn hair neatly combed back, completely at odds with his scraggly beard. He looks every bit of his Irish heritage with his pale skin and copious freckles, his green eyes always full of humor. He teasingly kisses my cheek too, and I give his shoulder a shove, not that it moves him much. The man is built like a damn brick wall.

Alden is last, giving me a half-smile that is basically his equivalent of throwing his arms around me and telling me he missed me while I was out of town. He’s much shorter than Kiernan and I both are, right around the same height as Sterling. But he’s every bit a Daddy Dom just like the two of us. He loves finding boys who are larger than he is and earning their submission. Aside from the three of us all being uncomfortable with the money we were born into, our preferences have been our biggest bonding point as adults.

The three of us follow Lorna to the kitchen. I decide to tell them about Sterling before going to get him. That way I can prepare them first and avoid any awkwardness.

Everyone helps themselves to glasses from my cupboards and pours drinks.

“So, how was bumfuck nowhere?” Alden asks, giving me the perfect opening.

“Billow,” I correct with a stern glare. “And, it was great. I actually, uh, well, remember the guy I mentioned?” I ask, glancing at my sister. I have no doubt the two of them filled Alden in on the situation. In fact, they’ve probably all been speculating and gossiping about it all week.

“The one you had a date with,” she guesses.

“That’s the one. His name is Sterling, and he’s…” I’m not sure I can even find the right word to describe him without the three of them thinking I’ve lost it. Yes, I’ve always been a bit of a hopeless romantic, but this is over the top even for me.

“Aw, you’re smitten,” Kiernan teases. “Are you going to go visit him again? Please tell me you’ll suck it up and fly next time. I can’t fathom why anyone would want to be stuck in a car for nearly twenty hours.”

“Actually…” I pause and clear my throat. “I brought him home with me.”

I expect a bit of ribbing. What I don’t expect is all three of them to go silent all at once and stare at me with quite so much shock.

“I’m sorry, what?” Lorna sets her glass down, her perfectly sculpted eyebrows going up simultaneously.

“Sterling,” I say again. “I brought him home with me. He’s in the library as we speak.”

“Uh.” Kiernan shares a look with Alden, neither of them appearing particularly impressed with my decision making, which causes me to bristle. “Okay, well…” Instead of finishing his sentence, he takes a large gulp of his Bloody Mary.

Alden, never one to beat around the bush, levels me with his patented no bullshit look. It’s enough to freeze the balls right off of a polar bear. “Barrett, darling, what in the absolute fuck are you thinking?”

I clench my jaw. This isn’t going as expected. I didn’t think they’d jump for joy or anything, they haven’t even met my boy after all, but I did think they’d keep the judgmental glares to more of a minimum.

“What Alden is trying to say is that we’re surprised you didn’t practice more caution. You don’t even know this person. He could be after your money,” Lorna explains, her gentler tone doing nothing to soften the sharpness of the words. It doesn’t take a genius to know what they’re all thinking right now—poor Barrett, scammed by another gold-digging boy. It’s happened too many times before. I’m a romantic, too easy to take advantage of at times. But, fuck, I would rather gamble my money on love than become some coldhearted miser.

“He’s not after my money,” I argue through clenched teeth. The oven chooses that moment to beep, so I turn around and pull out