“I was just telling Tyler this is where you’ll be while we’re here.” Nessie grins as my attention shifts to her. Then her eyes slowly move to Coop still at my side, his arm draped over my shoulders. Her lips fall with a gentle frown, her shoulders bowing.
I hate to see my sister upset, even more so when I’m a contributing reason. But this is Cooper, my best friend, the person who knows me nearly as well as Nessie. It draws my realization and fears back to how much is going to change this year.
I look across the room at Tyler, feeling his stare as well. His blue eyes are calculating again, and for a second, I wonder what he’s thinking. How he’s reading this current situation. Is he regretting us being here? Does he think we’re using him? Are we taking advantage of him? Before the rest of the questions or a single answer can be considered, he moves to the nearest door. “This is the first bedroom.”
We follow him into the room themed in dark stone colors with a king-size bed that sits against the far wall. Two chairs, a full dresser, and an expansive fireplace with a giant TV over the top complete the room. I’m fairly confident the room is bigger than the apartment we’re renting in Seattle this year.
“This is the master?” Nessie asks.
Tyler shakes his head.
“We can totally take this,” she tells him.
“You might change your mind when you see the other rooms,” he says, nodding in the direction of the doorway.
Manners can be such a strange set of rules, I realize, when Tyler again waits for us to exit the room first. We step out and move to the side so Tyler can lead us to the next bedroom. The second room is both bigger and lighter. It’s decorated in muted grays and beiges with patterned wallpaper that makes the focal wall appear to almost move like grains of sand after a wave crashes. There’s a large picture window with a built-in bench seat filled with cushions and a couch with a chaise. The king-size bed has a tufted headboard that makes me want to run my fingers across the surface and forget about the giant TV on the wall.
“Sorry, Coop. We get this room,” Nessie tells him, moving to the couch where she sets her purse down and moves to look out the window. She’s itching to go out and see the city. She turns to face us. “This is amazing, Tyler. Thank you so much for everything.” It’s sincere and kind and completely appropriate, and I’m beyond relieved she included me in the sentiment because I’m not sure I could thank him.
“Are you sure you don’t want to see the master?” he asks.
“This is beyond perfect,” she tells him.
Tyler nods. “I have to make a couple of calls before dinner,” he says, excusing himself.
We collectively watch him leave the room before turning to each other, eyes wide with the shock. “Is this the kind of room we’ll be staying in the entire time?” Nessie asks, looking at Cooper.
He shakes his head. “I have no idea. I mean, I knew he was loaded, but I didn’t know he was this loaded. I’ve only seen his place in Seattle.”
“This is crazy,” I echo, staring across the room and at the ornate details that are so subtle and yet each scream of wealth.
“I’m going to gain twenty pounds on this trip if the restaurants are as fancy as the room,” Nessie says.
I shake my head. “Fancy restaurants always serve tiny portions.”
She laughs. “Just remember to use the silverware on the outside and work your way in.”
5
Tyler
I need a drink, a gym, and some really loud music.
Instead, I’m leading the Robinson twins and Cooper into Taste, our renowned two-Michelin-star restaurant within the hotel.
“Good evening, Mr. Banks, Mr. Sutton, Ms. Robinson, and Ms. Robinson,” Gregory greets us. He’s the reason this restaurant has become what it has and also why the restaurant hasn’t managed to earn a third Michelin Star. He’s talented, driven, and so stuck in his ways he refuses to go in new directions.
Chloe takes a subtle step sideways as we begin to move, allowing Cooper to walk beside Vanessa. Cooper told me he’s never admitted to Chloe how he feels about Vanessa—their one secret—yet, I can’t help but wonder if she has an inclination considering how long Cooper’s liked Vanessa.
Gregory stops at a table that overlooks a wide window. It’s a seat my dad would request, one that is prominent and will make those waiting on us more apparent to garner attention and intrigue from fellow guests.
Chloe’s gaze skates across the room as she grips the back of a chair, ready to pull it out. I place a hand on her lower back, my thumb following the curve of her hip. She startles, her shoulders snapping straight as her attention jumps to me. I grab the chair, and she releases it, mumbling an apology as her cheeks flush. She takes a seat and grips the bottom of the chair to pull herself closer to the table, and we do an awkward shuffle as I try to help scoot her closer. Across from us, Cooper’s brows are lowered, watching me and wondering what in the hell I’m doing as he takes his seat. Arse.
“Chef Babineaux will be right out to tell you about today’s specials,” Gregory says as the other two members of the wait staff spread napkins across our laps.
“We’re really underdressed,” Vanessa says, fidgeting in her seat across from Chloe.
“No one cares what we’re wearing,” Chloe tells her. “They’re all wondering if one of is famous because we have an entire entourage.”
I glance out at the other patrons, noticing many are indeed looking our way.
“Is this normal?” Vanessa asks, looking at me.
I shake my head and then stop, shrugging because while it’s not necessarily normal, it’s not far from it. “It’s worse in London. Here, few have any idea who I am.”
“All of Brighton knows who you are,” Chloe says, turning to look at me. Her green eyes make a quick descent when I meet her gaze. She reaches for her filled water glass and takes a long drink before fixing her attention on Vanessa. I swear the two have an entire conversation without a single word being shared, and at the end of it, Vanessa grins widely.
“Good evening. Welcome to Taste,” Chef Babineaux appears, drawing more attention from the other guests. She begins explaining the menu and her suggestions for us based upon our preferences and tells us where everything has been harvested and raised.
In her seat beside me, Chloe leans as far from me as possible while Vanessa straightens her silverware and tells Cooper about classes for this upcoming year. The girls are exactly the type that most guys dream of bringing home to their mother: accomplished, sweet, polite, well mannered, and the win-win for both the guy and their mother is how blatantly innocent they both are. Not in the virginal sense necessarily, though I could easily be convinced to bet my left bollock that at least one of them is a virgin. No, it’s in the way the hotel left their jaws hanging and how they are unsuspecting of the uglier sides life often presents.
I’m definitely not most guys, though.
I prefer a girl with a past who wants to work her aggression out between the sheets and leave me like a bad habit.
Attachments make me uneasy, which is why I had no problem choosing dare every time while playing the game on our drive here. I don’t want anyone in my life. The only reason Cooper is as close to me as he is, is because he doesn’t want or expect anything—at least, not yet. That’s the sad part of our relationship. Our brotherhood, while strong, sometimes leaves me leery and waiting for the other shoe to drop because what I’ve learned in life is that money is power and power is absolute. Everyone wants to wield it, and few are capable.