My mom looks confused, but she’s still wearing her warm smile. “I see. And where are you from, Penelope?”
She turns to P, who I notice pulls back slightly, looking way more nervous than she was at the park. She shrugs. “Nowhere.”
My mom leans down at the waist, looking into her eyes. “Well, you’re a beauty. My goodness, those eyes.” She brushes a hand over her hair. “Welcome to our home, Ms. Penelope. We’re happy to have you for dinner.”
P’s eyes light up as she stands up a little straighter. “Thank you.”
“You guys go wash up, okay?”
We all nod, taking P to the hall bathroom where we all wash our hands. I take off my ridiculous blazer and tie, unbuttoning my crisp, white shirt at the top.
“I hope Mom made pot roast for dinner. It’s my favorite.” Colt takes his blazer off, his eyes lighting up as he turns to P. “You like roast?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m not that picky.”
He smiles. “How old are you?”
“Nine. You?”
Colt looks so happy. “I’m nine too.” He gestures toward me. “Linc’s eleven.”
She smiles at me, and it’s clear it’s their world and I’m just watching everything from a distance.
We go to the dinner table as Mom adds another plate for Penelope between mine and Colt’s. My dad joins us, but his phone is to his ear as usual and he doesn’t even notice our guest. My older sister, Lola, comes downstairs and takes a seat next to me.
She’s thirteen now and usually can’t be bothered to eat dinner with us. “Who’s that?”
“This is P, our friend.” I straighten at the table.
“P?” Lola asks as she looks over at Penelope.
“Penelope,” she explains, and my mother smiles.
“That’s a very pretty name.”
Colt nods. “I like it too, but I’m calling her ‘Pea.’ Like sweet pea because she’s sweet.”
My mom clutches her heart like it’s the sweetest thing she’s ever heard, and I narrow my eyes in her direction. I called her ‘P’ first.
At that moment, my youngest brother, Asher, comes rushing to the dinner table, jumping into his chair. Asher is seven and a ball of energy, at least that’s how my mom describes him.
“I like it.”
Penelope smiles shyly as we all start to dig into my mom’s delicious, homemade meal, but I can’t take my eyes off our new friend.
Is she bad like me? Or good like Colt?
I raise my arms over my head, turning to look out the large window of my bedroom. The lake looks pretty this morning.
I climb out of the bed, stretching again and not bothering to look in the mirror as I walk out into the hallway to the kitchen.
Linc is there, eating from a bowl of cereal while standing in front of the sink. He’s in only the same black sweats he wore last night, his muscles flexed tight the way he’s standing.
I know exactly where the tension is coming from, and I doubt he’s too happy with me this morning.
His dark, brown hair is tousled on his head in thick unruly waves as he turns, and his cold, hazel eyes meet mine. His beard is trimmed, but it doesn’t hide his square jaw and high cheekbones. Such a beautiful fucking prick.
He doesn’t say a word. That’s Linc for you. The strong, silent type unless he’s spitting fire and making girls cry for the hell of it.
“Mornin’, Linc.” I walk to the cabinet, standing on my tiptoes to grab a glass bowl and look over my shoulder at him. “You and your hand have a nice time last night?”
He ignores my question and shoots me his own as I pour cereal into my bowl. “Are you even going to bother to go to class today?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know. What’s the point?” I hate college, the boring classes, the large lecture halls full of pretentious professors all believing they know the meaning of life.
“Grades? A degree? Not failing out of college and wasting my parent’s money?”
Asshole. He loves to twist the knife and punish me every chance he gets. He finishes his cereal and rinses the bowl out in the sink. “I’m not failing. We only have two weeks of school left, and I’m sitting at a solid C average.”
“Whoa, go for the gold, P.” Linc’s words, as always, drip with sarcasm.
“And you’re doing much better?”
He shrugs and walks to the fridge, grabbing the milk and holding it out for me. “You’re smarter. You should be an A student.”
It’s not really a compliment, more like a fact. Linc doesn’t humor anyone for any reason, not even the poor, dumb girls he uses to get laid. He goes the abusive, self-deprecating route, and my god, do they fall for it. “What’s the point?”
I ask it again, knowing he has no answer. Neither of us do because life is pointless, and we both know I’m only here for his mother, who I adore and have since Linc and Colt brought me home for dinner when I was only nine.
I had nothing to lose back then, living in foster care, surrounded by tons of other kids and no real parents. I probably shouldn’t have gone with them, but Colt’s kind eyes pulled me in and held me in a trance I couldn’t break.
Colt was so pure and good. He was everything I wanted to be, even at nine years old, but knew I wasn’t.
I take the milk from him, and he shakes his head, clearly done with me this morning. “I’m going to go take a shower. Be ready when I get out if you want a ride to campus.”
I need to get a car so I don’t have to rely on him for rides. His parents would happily buy me a car and have, in fact, offered many times. But they’ve done enough.
“Fine.”
He leaves, and I watch the muscles of his back flex as he walks away, the simple tattoo on his right shoulder blade taunting me.
I squeeze my eyes tightly, trying to forget and make the pain swelling inside my chest go away.
I take a deep breath and go back to my breakfast.
We all would have been so much better off if I’d have said no that day and hadn’t ever fallen heart-first for Colt Sterling.
Seven Years Ago
“Here, come this way.” I follow Colt as we rush quickly up the stairs in his family’s massive, million dollar home.
It’s a house I know well now. I have no idea what made him bring me home three years ago, but the Sterlings have somehow become my new family, in a sense anyway.
I’m technically still in the foster care system, but I spend a lot more time in the Sterling home. It’s cozy and warm, vastly different from the horrors I’ve grown up in.
His mother, Nora, is beautiful and kind. I thought for sure she would send me right back home when we showed up, but she welcomed me with open arms. She even took me home that night instead of letting the boys’ driver take me. Their father, yeah . . . Mr. Sterling isn’t warm, not even close. He’s preoccupied with work and wanting everything to be perfect, yet somehow their home as a whole is a warm and inviting place.
“Here.” Colt opens a door in the hallway upstairs, and I peer into the linen closet.
“Are you serious?” I nearly laugh, covering my mouth so we aren’t heard.