Chapter 42 #2
“Maybe in, like, a jungle juice or something. What twenty-one-year-old willingly drinks gin?”
I giggle and point a finger at my own face. Then I take another drink, grateful it’s just the two of us in the kitchen. The guys are obviously trying to give us a wide berth, which I appreciate.
“Okay. Have you had enough to drink to give me some answers?”
“Such as?” I hedge. Bringing my glass to my lips, I take another sip to avoid making eye contact. I know what she’s getting at, but I haven’t figured out how to explain, well, any of it.
“Really, girl?” she deadpans. “Fine. We can play it that way. Why don’t we start with why we’re standing in the kitchen of the Crusade Mansion instead of your uncle’s place?”
I scrunch my nose and accept my fate. Setting my cup on the island, I make my way around it and hook my arm through Hunter’s. “Come on. There’s something I need to show you.”
She’s quiet as I lead her through the house and climb the stairs, which is out of character for Hunter.
When we reach my room, I turn the handle and hold an arm out, gesturing for her to step inside ahead of me. Flipping on the lights, I watch her face as she takes it all in.
“Oh, this is pretty,” she remarks, panning from one side of the room to the other. “I’ve never been up here before. Whose room is this?”
I cover my face with my hands.
“Joey… Seriously. Whose room is this?” she asks again, spinning to face me.
Peeking out between my fingers, I mumble, “Um, mine? I sort of live here now.”
Her eyes go wide, and she’s silent for all of two seconds.
Then she shrieks.
“Holy shit! Josephine oh-my-god-I don’t-know-your-middle-name Meyer! What do you mean you sort of live here now?”
“I don’t actually have a middle name,” I quip, choosing to ignore the more pertinent question.
“Really? I have two. What sort of person doesn’t give their kid a middle name?”
“Someone who doesn’t really give a shit about their kid,” I gripe.
Hunter’s face falls, then her eyes widen in horror. “Ugh. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine,” I insist, making my way farther into the room.
“Okay, okay. Don’t try to distract me. You have a whole lot of explaining to do.”
I flop onto the bed, then prop my head on my hand when she sits beside me.
“My uncle had to go out of town a few weeks ago, so the guys thought—”
“Weeks? You’ve been living here for weeks, and I didn’t know?” She grips my arm. “Does this mean you’re officially dating? And is it weird that I have to ask which one?”
“Hunter.” I groan. Though I’m grateful she accepted my half-assed explanation at face value. “It’s weird, yes. But fair. And the honest answer is I don’t really know.”
“You don’t know?”
Oh god. I’m afraid her brain is going to implode. She’s confused as hell, but she’s radiating excitement and giddiness, too. She’s smiling so hard I can’t help but match her grin.
“Kylian and I… we haven’t exactly defined it. Locke and I had a falling out after the first party of the year, but we’re trying to move past that now. Then there’s Decker…”
“Josephine Meyer! You saucy minx.” She shoves my shoulder. “Look at you moving into town and starting your own little reverse harem. And what happened to ‘never Crusade’?”
Rolling to my side, I shove her back. “My own what?”
“You know. A reverse harem? Like, a girl with a whole bunch of boyfriends? Polyamory? It’s a thing.
They all love her. She loves all of them.
And sometimes, they all love each other together.
” She wags her eyebrows and scoots to the middle of the bed.
“Oh my god.” She clasps her hands in front of her chest. “Is there sword crossing in your relationship? You have to tell me who! Wait, wait. No. Let me guess. It’s Decker and Kendrick, isn’t it?
No! It’s Kylian. He’s got soft dom vibes written all over him. ”
“You’re ridiculous. I don’t even know what you’re talking about. And Kendrick hates me,” I remind her, covering my face with my hands once again. I should have brought my drink with me. I’ll need it if she keeps up with this line of questioning.
“Um, hello?” She runs her fingers through my hair affectionately. “Haven’t you ever heard of enemies to lovers? It’s one of the most popular romance tropes.”
“Real talk.” I peer up at her.
She schools her expression and nods, dutifully slipping back into friend mode when she sees the forlorn look on my face.
“I honestly don’t know what’s going on. With any of them. I’m afraid I’m in too deep.”
“What do you need?” she asks, still playing with my hair.
“Probably another drink.”
She boops me on the nose. “Silly goose. Seriously. Anything I can do to help?”
Pressing my lips together, I give her question honest consideration. I need to talk to Kylian, Locke, and Decker. Ideally one on one. I need to be honest with them and with myself. But Hunter can’t help me with any of that.
“I probably need to have a few conversations,” I grumble.
“You do,” she confirms with a nod. “And until then?”
I grin. “I need an outfit for the party tomorrow. And I have nothing to wear for the charter cruise. Help me?”
“Now that I can do.” She hops off the bed with a squeal. “I’m assuming all your clothes are in there?” she asks, pointing to the walk-in closet.
Nibbling my lip, I nod.
“Come on,” she urges, pulling me upright. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”
“You’re the best,” I tell her, peeling myself off the bed.
“You know it,” she quips over her shoulder as I follow her across the room. “Just promise me you’ll tell me when you have your first three-way. Or four-way. Or five—”
“Hunter!” I scold as she cackles and scurries into my closet.