Luis is a full head shorter than me, and despite being in his twenties, he’s never outgrown his class clown persona.
“I’m fine.”
He lifts a heel up to his ass, stretching. “I think Matheson’s codename should be Blue.”
“What?” I ask, not liking how he announces this to the group. “What are you talking about, codename?”
“Codename.”He shrugs, like I should simply understand.
“We don’t use codenames.” We’re not the fucking Secret Service.
“Ren had a codename.”
“Ren had a codename?”
“Big Boss Bitch.”
“You cannot go around calling Ren Callahan Big Boss Bitch!”
Luis has the audacity to appear confused. “No, we’re not using the derogatory version of the word ‘bitch.’ It’s like the good kind.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “No codenames.”
“Blue works perfectly,” Luis reasons. “She wears blue all the time. Get it?”
I know what he’s talking about. She favors this blue hoodie, and her eyes are crystal clear. But I take a deep inhale anyway.
“It’s a very flattering color on her, actually,” my cousin says, suddenly acting like he’s the goddamn editor ofVogue. “What are you doing?”
I’d think it’d be perfectly obvious what I’m doing. Trying to meditate instead of throttling my younger cousin, but his voice causes me to look over.
His dark eyebrows are furrowed, brown eyes quizzical. “Why do you keep looking over at her like that?”
“I’m not looking at her.”
Luis thinks otherwise. He places his head in his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose in what I assume is a perfect imitation of me. Except he peeks between his fingers, not so slyly tilting his head toward thetreadmills.
“You keep doing this.” His fingers spread wider, giving him a better vantage point.
I drop the hand covering my face. “No, I’m not!”
“Yeah, you are. You keep watching her.”
“Of course, I’m watching her. We’re paid to watch her.”
By fucking Hadrian Hallow, and now that I’ve thought of his name, my hand squeezes into a fist.
“But this is how you normally watch people.”
Luis lowers his hand and straightens. His eyes narrow, his lips pursing together in what I think is supposed to be a snarl. His eyes are almost closed when he casts the faintest side-eye over his right shoulder.
“Knock it off. That’s not how I look. And fuck off before you freak Isolde out.” Her earbuds are in, and she looks straight ahead as she works out.
Which is great considering Luis does in fact stop squinting only to shoot me a mocking look. “Isolde, is it?”
A sigh escapes me.
“That’s awfully familiar of you,” Luis says. “You sure you don’t want to be more professional and use a codename?”
