Edward, my other brother, sweeps into the room and doesn’t bother to sit down before he pours himself a glass of red wine and takes a large sip. “I’d hardly call him a prude. He’s seen his fair share of pus?—”
“Finish that sentence and I’ll cut your tongue out with a butter knife,” I warn.
“Jealous over your soon-to-be husband?”
“Hardly.” I take a sip of wine. I’m not lying. I don’t see Marcus being a very adventurous lover. I prefer my men way less docile than he is.
“Well, either way, you better get used to the idea of being someone’s wife.”
My palms sweat at that.
Is that my fate? Will I spend so much time with Marcus that I’ll be finishing his sentences? The thought makes me cringe.
Once, at a party with my human friend, Mary, she joked that if her parents had their way, she’d be married off to themost eligible bachelor and popping out a kid a year. Her days would revolve around whiny, ungrateful children and cooking in slippers, only to transform into the picture-perfect wife by the time her husband came home from his hard day at work. At the time I didn’t fully understand what she meant. But now…now it’s starting to make sense.
I don’t want to morph into someone I don’t recognize. Or worse—morph into Marcus. The thought sends shivers down my spine.
“Ugh, this is a nightmare.” I put my arms on the table and lay my head on them.
“Would you stop feeling so sorry for yourself? It’s only marriage, not a death sentence,” Edward says. At a year younger than me, he still thinks he gets to tell me what to do because he is the oldest male sibling.
“Yeah, sis, the council has ruled. Think of it as an adventure rather than something negative.” Stephan gives me a weak smile.
I know he’s only trying to help—unlike Edward, who doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself—but really?
“If it’s such a great idea, then you two marry him.”
“He’s missing a key part. If you know what I mean,” Edward quips, staring pointedly at my vagina dress.
I take another sip of my wine. I’m going to need something stronger.
“I’d do it in a heartbeat,” Stephan chimes in. “Have you seen his hair? And his jawline? And lips? Sadly, I’m not the heir apparent, so I can’t fall on that figurative sword for you. But boy, I would give my left nut to do it.”
I snort, and wine shoots out my nose and flies across the table. My mother tries to look pinched about her lace tablecloth being covered in red stains, but instead she bursts out laughing.Before long, everyone joins in, and soon we’re wiping tears from our eyes.
Maybe we’re all just hysterical, but I’ll take it. For the first time today, I can breathe.
2
MARCUS
“Iwish I could say I didn’t see that coming, but you know I only lie to the ladies.” Leonard smirks at me.
While I’d usually roll my eyes and scoff at my friend, right now, I’m in no mood. I stare out the window at the forest rolling by in one giant green blur as he floors the Audi A7.
“I know you have thoughts and feelings running around that mind of yours, Marcus. You might as well get them out of your system before your father and uncle come over later to give you the whole ‘do your duty’ speech.” He takes his hands off the wheel to make air quotes, and I grip the wheel as we turn the bend.
“Jesus, Leonard, I’d like to be alive to live out my life of misery.”
Leonard puts his hands back on the steering wheel and grins at me. “That’s the spirit. We’re getting somewhere. Let it all out.”
This time I do roll my eyes. Leonard is the closest thing to a best friend I have, but his aversion to taking anything seriously gets under my skin. I know better than to doubt him, though. His father gave his life for mine, and ever since, my family has treated Leonard and his mother as our own. At times, I’menvious of his laid-back personality and his ability to charm his way in or out of most situations, but right now, I wish he’d be serious for one fucking minute.
The turn for my driveway comes up, and Leonard takes it much faster than he should. I grip the grab handle and fight the inertia of my body against the car. It’s ironic, since I’m also fighting the inertia of my life.
As soon as we’re through the gates and Leonard stops the car, I unclip the safety belt and jump out, slamming the door shut.
“Easy with my baby, Marcus,” he says as he gets out and runs a loving hand over the silver paint. The car had been a gift from my father on my twenty-fifth birthday two years ago, but Leonard treats it like his.
