Oliver pulled away, slapping me on the back of my head. ‘You do that, I take a leaf out of Rosie’s book and set her mother on you.’
‘She’d happily be used in a revenge plot,’ Rosie called. I looked over and saw her next to Fallon, arms wrapped around her best friend's middle, head resting on her shoulder.
The sight of her standing there, a twinkle in her eye as she looked at me, nearly choked the life out of me. She was mine. She was right here, and she was mine.
And I was unequivocally hers.Forever.
Fallon cleared her throat, tapping Rosie on the arm. ‘Speaking of bets.’
Rosie’s eyes widened, the flash of fear crossing her face. She stood upright, eyeing the room nervously. ‘We weren’t.’
Oliver chuckled under his breath.
‘We are now.’ A wicked glint sparked in Fallon’s eyes. ‘I believe someone owes me a tattoo.’
Rosie flinched. She pulled away from her best friend like she’d been electrocuted.
‘You won’t hold me to that, though. Right? Because you love me,’ she said, her tone turned pleading, and fuck me, she was the cutest thing I’d ever seen.
Fallon laughed, pink hair falling effortlessly around her shoulders. ‘I do love you dearly. But you bet your arse I am collecting on this bet.’
‘What if I refuse?’
‘Would you have made me get up in front of a room full of strangers and sing karaoke?’
‘No. Of course not. I’m a delightful person, and not at all vindictive.’
‘Really?’ Fallon’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘You wouldn’t have taken great joy in seeing me nearly wet myself in public?’
Rosie’s lips pinched. ‘Fine. I might have enjoyed it. But only a little bit.’
Fallon threw her hands up. ‘I rest my case. A tattoo of a tortoise on your neck it is.’
Rosie’s panicked gaze found mine. Not able to stand to have her so far away, I slipped around my brother and held out my hand. In an instant, she folded herself into my body. Face burrowed into my chest, she wrapped her arms around my waist.
‘Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll be right beside you the whole time.’ I stroked a hand down her back.
‘Promise?’ She peeked up at me. I lifted my pinky, holding it out to her.
She wrapped her delicate little finger around it, squeezing. ‘Promise,' I vowed.
40
Three Weeks Later
‘Curse you.I’m renouncing you as my best friend.’ I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the constant pricking on my ankle. The low buzzing wasn’t helping matters. It was a constant reminder of what was currently happening. George brought our linked hands up to his mouth, swiftly kissing the back of my hand.
‘You’ve been saying that for months. Until I receive a written letter in the mail, you’re stuck with me,’ Fallon said from across the room.
From my position lying down on the world’s most uncomfortable bench, I glowered at her. Oliver stood behind her, arms wrapped around her middle as he watched, not even bothering to hide his glee at my momentary suffering.
‘If you’ve made me get something ugly indelibly inked on my body, I’ll call my mother. You won’t be able to hide from her bat shit crazy witchy friends.’ My hand flexed in George’s grip. Despite weeks of my endless badgering, Fallon had resolutely refused to tell me exactly what design she haddecided on. No amount of vague threats made her cave. Something Oliver took great delight in.
‘Sweetheart, you can relax.’ George sat next to me, letting me squeeze his hand to the point of abuse without complaint.
‘Don’t think you're off the hook, Blake.’ My brow pinched. ‘If you’ve knowingly let her etch—’ My words were cut off when he stooped, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.
Just like every single time he did that, everything inside me quivered. Not the best for a tattoo.
