Enjoy them wildly, I promise myself in silence. “I swear, you won’t regret letting me stay with you.”
“I’d be lying if I said I won’t worry, Lilly. But there’s no way I’m letting you live on your own without a test drive first.”
I don’t bother reminding him again that I need help, not permission. I know he means well. Ethan’s just like that—overprotective. It’s who he is.
Still, I won’t stop living my life just because he’s scared I’ll get hurt.
Chapter 3
The Next Day
“So . . . he said yes?” my best friend asks.
“When you say it like that, Martina, I feel like I’m two years old. Ethan didn’t need to let me go. I just needed his support.”
“Lilly, be real. I’ve got four brothers, and I’m the baby. To them, we’ll always be little kids.”
We’re on our way to a classmate’s party—which I’m sort of treating as a farewell, even though barely anyone knows I’m leaving.
Truth is, I don’t have many friends. Martina was kind of a “gift” from Ethan.
“You can’t really compare your life to mine,” I say. “Your mom let you be free to explore. Isabel is the best mother in the world, by the way. Do you even realize how lucky you are?”
“Oh, I do. She’s amazing. But believe me, every male member of my family—and their friends—spy on me. You think it’s a coincidence that your brother Ethan and my brother Rafe introduced us? They killed two birds with one stone. When we’re together, they can cut the number of bodyguards in half.”
I start laughing because I can totally picture our brothers coming up with that kind of plan.
“I’m serious, Lilly. There’s a car following us right now, you know. Or are you naïve enough to think it’s just the driver and the bodyguard up front?”
I glance at the rearview mirror and catch my Paris driver staring at me. He quickly looks away, embarrassed—and I think she’s right. Our brothers give us the illusion of freedom, but we’re always being watched.
“I’m going to Boston to claim my freedom.”
“More like whisper it,” she teases.
“You’re insane, Martina Oviedo.”
“I’m honest,sister Lilly,” she says, batting her lashes like the drama queen she is.
“You’re insane and annoying. You know perfectly well I was never a nun.”
“Barely. You almost lived there forever. And you’re still a virgin.”
“Says the expert.”
“In my imagination, I’m a total freak,” she grins. I think I even hear the security guy up front stifle a laugh.
“Shhh, you crazy. They heard you.”
“Lilly, just because we’re not having sex doesn’t mean we can’t talk about it.”
Martina and I exchange looks, a kind of silent competition for the most awkward smile, both clearly thinking the same thing: How do we get out of thistrainwreckwithout drawing attention?
Everyone’s drunk. Loud. Gropey. The only thing I can think about is saying goodbye to the girl who invited me and bolting out the door.
When we arrived, it looked like a normal party—at least, as normal as the frat parties I’ve seen in movies. I’ve never actually been to one.
Martina has, and at first, she even looked like she was having fun.
