He stares at me for a further second before a little smirk pulls at the side of his mouth. “No,” he replies, shaking his head. “Not really.” “Sucks for you,” I mutter, falling back against my pillows and turning my back to him, scowling, still a little pissed about everything that happened last ni

“Aren’t we supposed to stay one step ahead of things?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Leave that to me. But,” Christian says, his eyes returning to the phone in my hand, “there’s a…language app on there. Prepaid, for a year. For…French.” My spine straightens suddenly, my eyes flashing up to his wit

“No touching until we all come to the table,” I say, glancing over at Nico, who sits stubbornly on the couch. “Nic,” Christian calls, his voice low with warning. “Get over here.” “I don’t really see the point in playing happy family,” Nico snaps, not even looking at us. I shake my head at him, w

I’ve always been an emotional eater, after all. And if I eat when I’m anxious? Then this morning, I’m probably going to eat the rest of this whole damn cake. “Cake for breakfast?” a voice asks, and I almost jump out of my skin, spinning towards Christian with the knife in my hands. “Don’t scar

“You do?” I ask, turning to him, my eyes sweeping over his very simple sweatshirt and pajama pants. Nico turns to me with a smirk, lowering the garment bag a little. “I mean, if you want we can let Frankie pick –“ “Nope!” I say, grabbing my coffee and hurrying to his side. “Which shoes am I brin