“Me too,” I giggled, loving that neither of them had noticed it was already fifteen minutes past my bedtime and for once I was able to join in on this nightly ritual.
“You know what I mean,” my brother grumbled. “I wish we had as much money as they do.”
“Is Cooper rich?” I asked, the naivety of an eight-year-old who was only just learning the value of money evident in my question.
Sebastian spun around, the soap suds dripping from his gloves. “Yes, Evangeline. Like loaded.” His eyes were wide with excitement. “He has a cleaner, his own bathroom, a gardener and a fricken chef.”
“Language!” Mum admonished, and I stifled another giggle.
“Why does he love having dinner here so much then?” I asked with disbelief. He was over all the time and stayed for dinner as often as Mum offered.
“Ouch,” Mum replied. “My cooking isn’t that bad, is it?”
Sebastian shot me his older brother's glare. “Your cooking is the best, Mum. I’m justjealous he has someone to do the bloody dishes afterwards.”
“Language!” Mum reprimanded again and I bit back another smile.
“You know, a cook and a cleaner would be nice, but I bet Cooper wishes he had some of the things you two have.” Mum said in that voice that meant a lecture was loading.
“Like what?” I was both curious and desperate to keep her distracted enough not to realise the time.
“I’d suspect that he wishes he had more time with his parents. More attention. Maybe someone who told him to pick his towels up off the floor or ask him to give the carpet a vacuum to help out.” She knocked her hip into Seb’s.
“Nice try, Mum,” he drawled.
“Okay, maybe not those things.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “But I do believe that young man wishes he could be with his mother each night, even if it was just to do the dishes. Portia and Preston spend a lot of time away for work.”
My brother didn’t answer and when my sudden yawn broke the quiet, I realised my mistake.
“Okay, young lady. Teeth and bed.”
I wanted to argue but I was too distracted thinking about what she’d said about Cooper. First, if he had so much money why did he spend weekends with us rather than going to every arcade in the country and who the heck would want rice and chicken wings if you could have whatever you wanted from a chef? I was going to have to ask him.
“Argghh, hold up a second,” Xavi interjected, and I rolled my eyes at the way his finger pointed upwards, his lips pursed. “Allow me to summarise and don’t correct me if I’m wrong,” he enunciated, his hands emphasising each word dramatically.
Taking a sip of my mango and mint smoothie, I sat back in my chair ready for the show.
If you asked Xavier, he would say we were friends, but he would add that he acquired me in our very first business lecture at uni. He spotted me “looking sadly tragic and alone”(debatable) and knew my life was in “desperate need of his vibrance”(also debatable).
I would argue he latched on, following me around like a fly regardless of any repellent I wore.
But where we would both agree, was now four years later, we were inseparable. He was the highlight of most of my days with his absurdity and hilarious anecdotes and he said I brought him joy because I could make him sweet treats and I donned the curls he wished he could have.
“So,Evyis it?” He asked and I rolled my eyes again, biting back a grin. “You go out slaying in an outfit clearly chosen by a fashion guru-” Exaggeratedly, he brushed his non-existent long hair behind his ear before continuing. “You are groped by an absolute buffoon, the girls lose their minds, then your hottie of a brother’s best friend - who is also the love of your life - arrives clad in leather and sexual heat and loses his mind, beating the shit out of the grabby fucker and his friends?”
“Yeah, th –” With a sweep of his hand he cut me off, apparently not finished.
“I’m not done, sweetie.” Pausing he moved in closer. “And then, Cooper-Penetrate-Me-Dane throws you over his shoulder, taking you home on the back of his bike, but not before making sure you were close enough for his arse to rub alllll over your –” he pointed beneath the table accusingly. “And then you left him onread! I’m struggling to see howheis the problem here.” He finished. “Other than the fact he didn’t convince you to let him have you then and there. On the back of his bike.”
“Xav, hush.” I snapped, my eyes darting around to ensure no one was eagerly listening. “He broke my teenage heart, remember?We hate him. Regardless of his bangability, he lacks all forms of a moral compass.”
“How so?”
“Well, he beat three men in a blind rage,” I said, exasperated.
“We already established he did thatforyou.”
“Isn’t that an alert in itself?”
