He stares into my eyes and smiles gently, being careful when he grabs my hand.
“I don’t know about all the people in these photos, but to me you are the most unique and beautiful girl I’ve ever met, Gigi.”
I’m not used to compliments. In fact, they make me uncomfortable. My family isn’t the type to give each other flattering remarks like this. It’s not that we don’t think that we’re all exceptional, it’s just not something that we have to vocally share with each other all the time.
Actually, it’s a wonder how my parents ever got together at all. Mom is tough as nails and my dad is a quiet storm. I bet my father has never even told my mother how beautiful she is because it’s just assumed that she already knows.
“Thank you, Matt.”
I look away for a moment because I’m slightly embarrassed by the sweet words, but then pop my eyes back up when there’s a sudden pounding at the door.
“Are you expecting someone?” Matthew asks, probably concerned that someone is knocking on my door like the goddamn police.
“Nope.”
Another lie.
I know exactly who it is, but for a split second I totally forgot that he threatened to pop by.
“Open the door, Gigi, or I’ll knock on every damn door in this building.”
“Who the hell is that?” Matthew fiercely demands to know.
“It’s someone from the United Nations,” I say sarcastically.
“Huh?”
“Forget it. Listen, why don’t you find something on Netflix for us to watch while I handle this.”
“Are you sure you’ll be okay? That dude sounds a little off and no girl of mine–”
I quickly cut him off because for one, I never want Matt and Knox to meet because that could be catastrophic; and two, I’m nobody’s girl. I don’t belong to anyone.
“I’m sure. I’ve got this. It’ll only take a moment.”
I unlock the door and slip through to the other side of it, making sure to pull it shut behind me. I suck in a small breath and swallow the violent words I was about to say as I stare up at a smirk that I haven’t seen in over five years or maybe longer.
Holy hell.
I didn’t think it was possible, but Knox Masterson got a whole hell of a lot taller, muscular, and I hate to say it, but way more attractive than I remember.
“Queenie,” he greets me in his signature smug manner.
I offer him the same.
“Jackass.”
Six
Gigi
* * *
“Huh.” Knox rakes his tempestuous eyes from the top of my head to my feet and back up to my face. “You don’t look anything how I remembered.”
It’s rather a cruel twist of fate that my archenemy seems to only age better with time, as I continually consider on an almost daily basis whether I was adopted. I don’t feel like I inherited either of my parents’ good looks. My butt is massive, my breasts sag slightly and my curls won’t behave with even the creamiest conditioners slathered on.
“What are you trying to say?” I say self-consciously as I smooth some of the flyaways of my phony ponytail.
