I step into the air-conditioned building, my gaze immediately coasting over the food, snack, and drink options available.
I only added enough money to my student account to buy lunch for today, wanting to figure out a way to stretch my dwindling funds. Talk about right on time. I’ll buy bread, lunch meat, cheese, and a few other goodies to tide me over.
“Hey,” Meela greets a woman standing behind the counter. “New girl, this is my sister. Sister, new girl.”
“Does new girl have a name?” she asks, smiling politely.
“Zilphia.” I return her smile. “Does sister have a name?”
“Tulip.”
There’s no resemblance between them. Meela is thick and pint-sized, probably standing a little over five feet, with light-golden skin. Tulip, on the other hand, is tall and lithe with a pretty dark-brown complexion. Silken black curls are pulled into a bushy ponytail at her nape, exposing graceful features.
It must be a riot at their house. Meela is wild and vivacious, while Tulip seems calm and demure. I wonder if they clash often.
The shopkeeper bell chimes, and in walks the finest red-headed man I’ve ever seen. He’s tall and ripped, with a perfectly creamy complexion. My fangirling fizzles the instant my eyes land on his familiar leather vest. The same one Snake wore, except this man has a vice president patch. Uneasiness prickles my skin. Is this guy going to cause trouble?
He nods at us in greeting before going to the counter. Tulip blinks up at him, nibbling on her bottom lip.
“And the melodrama begins,” Meela grumbles, rolling her eyes.
“What do you mean?” I ask, my fear increasing tenfold.
“That’s Draco,” she whispers. “He has the hots for Tulip, but she won’t give him the time of day.”
“He’s wearing the same vest as the guy who was giving Leah a hard time at school.”
“That’s Snake,” she says, already knowing who I mean. “They’re brothers. And it’s called a cut, not a vest.”
Great, there are two of those assholes. And I’ve never heard anyone call a vest a cut.
“Oh.” My gaze slides back to the front of the store, surreptitiously studying the pair. “They’d make an odd couple.”
Oil and vinegar would mix better than these two. Not to mention he looks way younger than her—I’d say mid-twenties. Either way, she definitely doesn’t seem like the type to flock to bad boys.
“Nah, they’d be good together,” Meela states confidently. “Tulip’s head is shoved too far up her ass to see that. Anyway, see anything you want?”
“Yeah.” I grab a basket, and we start down the first aisle.
“What are you doing here?” Tulip asks, her tone tight with irritation.
Meela pins me with an “I told you so” look.
“I came to take a look at your freezer,” he answers gruffly. “Smokey said it was making thumping noises yesterday.”
“I don’t need your help,” she snaps. “Stop sending your goons to spy on me.”
“You better start showing me some fucking respect,” he growls, slamming his fist on the counter.
I jump, heart in my throat. “Should we call the cops?”
“Get out,” Tulip orders, her voice shaking as she backs away from him. “A lowlife doesn’t deserve respect.”
“No, their little melodrama will be over in a couple of minutes.”
I start loading my basket, sneaking glances at them every few seconds. Their argument continues in hushed tones. Suddenly, he catapults over the counter and crowds her against the wall, his muscular arms caging her in. I squeak, squeezing the metal handle of the basket in a death grip.
“Calm down, girl,” Meela says. “He’d never hurt her.”
