“Ourparentsare nasty rich,” Loren tells Julian. “We live off their generous donations.”
“Trust funds,” Ryke amends.
“I make my own money,” I interject and take a sip of my wine. Lo and Ryke both have Fizz cans in their hands, not drinking alcohol per the usual.
Loren gives me a look. “Yeah, from your mom’s company.”
I shake my head. “She gave me five-thousand dollars for my twelfth birthday. I invested it and made good money. I don’t have a trust fund.” I refused the one she offered me.
“We should play a drinking game,” Lo says. “Every time Connor Cobalt makes me feel stupid we take a shot.”
“You’re fifteen months sober,” Ryke reminds him.
“Always gotta put a black cloud on everything,bro,” Lo refutes, though there’s more humor in his voice than hostility.
“What do you think?” Ryke asks Julian.
Julian shrugs, hardly affected by Ryke’s hardcore glare. “What do I think about what?”
No one elaborates because there’s nothing to elaborate on.
“You’re not sleeping in her room,” Lo warns.
Julian swishes his beer in a brief moment of contemplation (not long enough apparently) because he stupidly says, “I’ve already slept in the same bed as her before. I don’t see the big deal.”
Lo lets out a short laugh likeis this guy for real?“You don’t see the big deal?” He steps forward. “Let me spell it out for you Julius?—”
“Julian—” he barely has time to correct him.
“You’re twenty-fucking-three,” Lo says, not missing a beat. “How old are you, Connor?”
“Twenty-four.”
Lo turns to Ryke and mockingly tilts his head. “What about you, Ryke?”
“Twenty-three,” Ryke says.
Lo touches his chest. “I’m twenty-two myself.”
“That’s great,” Julian says a little dumbfounded as to what’s going on.Just wait, Julian. He’s getting there.
“I consider myself fairly smart,” Lo says, “but you must be a real fucking idiot if you think we’d be okay with someone our age sleeping with our girlfriends’ seventeen-year-oldlittlesister.”
Julian’s not even intelligent enough to catch the obvious flaw in Lo’s statement—that Ryke doesn’t even have a girlfriend in this scenario.
He shrugs, still not seeing the issue. “She’s a model, man. We’ve spent nights at our friends’ flats in New York City together. She’s snorted coke before. I think she’s past the overprotective brother routine. Maybe if you haven’t noticed, she’s pretty mature.”
Lo grits his teeth and turns his head to me. “Can you believe this guy?”
I can believe he’s a moron, yes.But his argument is valid. It doesn’t mean I think he should be spending the night inDaisy’s bed. I’m not even sure she wants that. “You’re sleeping on the couch,” I tell him calmly.
He just shakes his head with a pouty lip, not even considering it. “No, I’m not.”
“I’m seriously going to kick his fucking ass,” Ryke says to us.
“I’m standing right here, man,” Julian retorts. “What’s your deal?”
“You’re twenty-three,” Ryke snaps, “and you’re fucking a girl who’s seventeen.”
