Chapter three

Phoebe

“I hope you appreciate what a good friend I am.” Steph yawned as we tromped across our front yard toward Jeremy’s house. “For waking up at the butt crack of dawn to help your asshole brother, no offense babe, clean and pack when I don’t even like the dude.”

I laughed and looped my arm through hers. “I’ll buy you a Chocolate cake parfait from The Pastries Homie after. Promise.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She paused. “Large, with Vanilla latte and crunch toppings?”

“Now you’re just taking advantage of me.”

“I won’t clean then” she added

“You know I can’t get you one part of your favorite triple Goodness without getting the rest so yes Steph” I added playfully

“Fine.” Steph yawned again. “That makes it somewhat worth it.”

Steph and Jeremy were not fans of each other. I’d always found that strange, considering they were so similar. They were both outgoing, charming, smart as hell, and total heartbreakers.

Steph was a human version of Kim possible, all shiny ginger hair, creamy skin, long legs, big tits and curves that made me look at my body with a sigh. Overall, I was happy with how I looked, but as a member of the Itty Bitty Titty spider Committee, I did wish for an extra cup size or two without having to resort to plastic surgery. Ironically, Steph sometimes complained about her double-Ds, saying they were hard on her back. There should be a Venmo for breasts that allows women to send and receive cup sizes with the press of a button.

Like I said, I was happy with how I looked most of the time, but no one—not even supermodels or movie stars—was immune from insecurities once in awhile.

Besides her grievances with her breasts, Steph was the most confident person I’d ever met—aside from my brother, whose ego was so large it could house the entire East Coast of the United States with room left over for Texas. I suppose he had reason to be, considering he’d always been the golden boy, and though it pained me to admit it because he was my brother, he wasn’t bad-looking either. Six foot-two with thick black hair and razor-sharp bone structure, which he never let anyone forget. I was convinced Jeremy would commission a sculpture of himself and display it on his front lawn if he could.

Steph and Jeremy never divulged why they disliked each other so much, but I suspected it might be because they saw too much of themselves in each other.

The front door was already open, so we didn’t bother knocking.

To my surprise, the house was pretty clean. Jeremy had put most of his furniture into storage last week, and the only things left to pack were the couch (which someone would pick up later), a few stray kitchen items, and the weird mosaic piece in the living room.

“Jeremy?” My voice echoed in the large, empty space while Steph sat on the ground and pulled her knees to her chest with a grumpy expression. If you couldn’t tell, she wasn’t a morning person. “Where are you?”

“Bedroom!” I heard a loud thump upstairs, followed by a muffled curse. A minute later, Jeremy came down holding a large cardboard box. “Shit I’m donating,” he explained, setting it on the kitchen counter.

I wrinkled my nose. “Put a shirt on. Please.”

“And deprive Kim of her morning eye candy?” Jeremy smirked. “I’m not that cruel.”

I wasn’t the only one who thought Steph looked like Kim Possible; Jeremy always called her by the cartoon character’s name, which pissed her off to no end. Then again, everything Jeremy did pissed her off. But then I know he did it on purpose because he knows it pisses her off.

Steph lifted her head and scowled. “Please. I’ve seen better abs at the campus gym. Listen to Pheebs and put a shirt on before I lose last night’s dinner.”

“I think the lady doesn’t want to accept the truth and is trying too much to seem indifferent,” Jeremy drawled, slapping a hand against his six-pack. “The only thing you’ll be losing is—”

“Okay.” I slashed my arms through the air, cutting off the conversation before it went down a path that’d scar me for life. “Enough chitchat. Let’s get you packed up before you miss your flight.”

Fortunately, Jeremy and Steph behaved for the next hour and a half while we packed up the remaining items and loaded them into the SUV he’d rented for the move.

Soon, the only thing left to pack was the mosaic. Even after two years of Jeremy owning that piece of shit, I still do not understand what exactly is going on in that art.

“Tell me you’re donating this too.” I eyed the massive Mosiac. “I don’t even know how it’ll fit in the car.”

“Nah, leave it there. He hates it. So I’m leaving it here to traumatize him every morning when he wakes up”

“Who?” As far as I knew, no one taken over Jeremy’s lease yet. But it was still May, and I expected the place to go fast closer to the start of the semester.

“You’ll see.”

I didn’t like the smile on his face. At all. It meant it was something I wouldn’t like.

The low purr of a powerful engine filled the air.

Jeremy’s smile broadened. “As a matter of fact, you’ll see right now.”

Steph and I exchanged glances before we ran to the front door and pushed it open.

A familiar McLaren Artura idled in the driveway.

“You have got be kidding me” I added And Jeremy had the audacity to smirk at my comment, asshole. The door opened, and Peter stepped out, looking more gorgeous than any human had the right to look in jeans, aviators, and a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

He took off his sunglasses and assessed us with cool eyes, unfazed by the mini welcoming party on the front steps.

Only I didn’t feel particularly welcoming, I felt like choking him to death with that sunglasses. I don’t even if if that’s possible. God I suck at plotting evil.

“But…but that’s Pe..That’s Peter,” I stammered.

“Looking miiiighty fine, might I add.” Steph nudged me in the ribs, and I scowled in response. Who cared if he was hot? He was a jerk.

“Hey, dude.” Jeremy slapped hands with Peter. “Where’s your stuff?”

“Moving company’s bringing it later.” Peter side-eyed Jules, who assessed him the way one would a shiny new toy. Besides Jeremy, Peter was the only guy who’d never fallen for her charms, which intrigued her more. She was a sucker for a good challenge, probably because most guys fell at her feet before she even opened her mouth.

“Wait.” I put my hand up, my heart slamming a panicked rhythm against my ribcage. “Moving comp—you’re not moving here.”

“Actually, he is.” Jeremy said

“I said he’s not moving here” I said more firmly this time

Jeremy slung an arm over my shoulder, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Meet your new neighbor, little sis.”

My eyes ping-ponged between him and Peter, who couldn’t look more bored by the conversation.

“No.” There was only one reason Peter Ambrose would leave his cushy Greenwood penthouse and move back to Capitol Hill , and I’d bet my new camera it had nothing to do with nostalgia for his college days. I know what’s happening. I know what Jeremy is doing. “No, no, no, no, no.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.”

I glared at my brother. “I don’t need a babysitter Jeremy. I’m twenty- one years old.”

“Who said anything about babysitting?” Jeremy shrugged. “He’s looking after the house for me. I’m moving back in when I return next year, so it makes sense.”

“Bullshit. You want him to keep an eye on me.”

“That’s a bonus.” Jeremy’s face softened. “It doesn’t hurt to have someone you can rely on when I’m not here, especially given this whole thing with Jeffery and the new stalker.”

“You have a stalker?” Steph asked

I hadn’t told her about that since it started.

I winced at the mention of my ex. Jeffery had been blowing up my phone since I caught him cheating on me a month and a half ago. He’d even shown up at the Makeup Studio where I worked a few times, begging for another chance. I wasn’t devastated by our breakup. We’d dated for a few months, and I hadn’t been in love with him or anything, but the situation had brought all my insecurities to the surface. Jeremy worried about Jeffery getting out of hand, and also thinks the anonymous messages I’ve been receiving from a stalker is him. But let’s be honest, Jeffery was a Brooks-Brother-wearing, polo-playing trust fund baby. I doubted he’d do anything that would mess up his perfectly gelled hair.

I was more embarrassed I’d dated him than concerned about my physical safety.

“I can handle myself.” I pulled Jeremy’s arm off my shoulder. “Call the moving company and cancel,” I told Peter, who’d been ignoring us and scrolling through his phone this whole time. “You do not need to move here and babysit me. Aren’t you a CEO? Don’t you have work at Greenwood? Why do you want to spend time commuting?”

“Well to your discomfort, it’s a twenty minutes drive and my Artura can do ten. So don’t worry about my engagements “ he said without looking up from his phone

“For the record, I am totally in favor of you moving in next door,” Steph piped up. Traitor.

“Do you mow the lawn shirtless? If not, I highly recommend it.”

Peter and Jeremy frowned at the same time.

“You.” Jeremy pointed at her. “Do not pull any of your shenanigans while I’m gone.”

“It’s cute how you think you have a say in my life.”

“I don’t give a shit what you do with your life. It’s when you drag Pheebs into your harebrained schemes I’m concerned.”

“Newsflash: you don’t have a say in Phoebe’s life either. She’s her own person.”

“She’s my sister—”

“She’s my best friend—”

“Remember when you almost got her arrested—”

“You have to let that go. That was three years ago—”

“Kids!” I pressed my fingers to my temple. Dealing with Jeremy and Steph was like dealing with children. “Stop arguing. Jeremy, stop trying to control my life. Steph, stop provoking him.”

Jeremy crossed his arms over his chest. “As your big brother, it’s my job to protect you and to appoint someone to fill in for me when I’m not here.”

I grew up with him; I recognized that look on his face. He wasn’t budging.

“I assume Peter is the fill-in?” I asked in a resigned tone.

“I’m not a ‘fill-in’ anything,” Peter said icily. “Don’t do anything stupid, and we’ll be fine.”

I groaned and covered my face with my hands.

This was going to be a long year.