“But you enjoy it so much.”
Oh my god, I was going to slash his tyres before the next race. Every tyre at the Australian track. It might take me a few days, but I would do it.
Benedek side-eyed me before dragging his gaze to his brother.
I felt my face flush.
How much did he know?
“Bathroom,” I hissed the second the photographer dismissed us. “Now.”
He followed me into the house, smiling and waving at passers by like walking beside his step-sister at a family occasion was absolutely normal and nothing peculiar in the slightest.
“Where are the suitcases?” I asked, looking at the bare foyer. Well, bare if not for the hundreds of flowers.
If I had to stay in this white dress, the frustrated tears were going to overflow, and I refused to cry in front of this man.
“Probably taken up to your room.”
I gestured to the stairs, and he sighed. “Come on then,” he said. I followed him up and down one of the corridors of rich, dark wood.
“This one’s mine,”he said, pointing to a door. “And this one is yours.”
“What a coincidence that we’re next to each other,”I groaned. It had sounded fun at first, but now it was a curse.
“I mean, it’s my house, so I did have a bit of sway.”
I stopped short because, of course, that was the case —why hadn’t I considered that sooner?
My suitcase was just beside the door, and I threw it onto the bed, unzipped it, and started sorting through the chaos for a backup dress.
“Going to put some underwear on?”
That was a bloody good point. I pulled the first thong I found up under my dress.
Zolt sat on my bed, pouting out his bottom lip.
I was going to throw the next pair at his arrogant face.
No.He’d probably like that. He’d probably frame them.
Nothing in this suitcase was going to work. I needed Everly’s.
I pulled out a long red dress with cut-out sides and pressed it up against me. Zolt screwed up his nose.
“Not that one,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not very you.”
It was my sister’s.
“And it would mean you have to take those panties right off again.”
I hated that he was right.
I threw it down, trying not to groan aloud.
When I pulled out an emerald silk skirt and black top, he cocked his head from side to side. “It’s not giving wedding, is it?”
“I didn’t know it was a fucking wedding when I packed, did I? Someone didn’t tell me that little detail, did they?”
