“What?Is my idea really that bad?”Cobie prods as if my silence has a direct line to her confidence.
Blinking, I focus on her again.“Make it a dating auction.Women volunteers only.Auction winners are expected to pay for the date as well as the cost of the woman’s time.”
She frowns.“Why women only?”
“Because the guys will line up, no questions asked.”
“You sure?”
“You’ll hit your number within the first hour.Guaranteed.”
She nods as if digesting my words of wisdom.“And how do I get girls to sign up?”
That’s the tough part.Scraping my fingernails against the edge of my jaw, I consider our—her—options.
Dammit, how do I always get wrangled into these things?
“Maybe offer a grand prize or some kind of raffle entry for volunteers as a thank you for their participation,” I tell her.“It’s gotta be something good, though.”I snap my fingers.“A weekend stay at one of our houses.Maybe the Maui one?”
“What about Dad?”
“You kidding?”I laugh.“Daddy Dearest will love it.Free publicity will not only highlight his wealth without looking egotistical, but it will also show his generosity to the cause.He’ll sign off on it in a heartbeat.”
She stays quiet, though I can practically see the wheels turning in her little head.Tucking her long, honey-colored hair behind her ear, she murmurs, “You really think it would work?”
I smirk back at her, not bothering to assure her.Of course, it’ll work.Who does she think I am, anyway?
“Money man,” she notes.“Right.”Moving forward, she pulls me into a side-hug.“Thanks, big brother.”
Big brother.
The term feels foreign.Sure, Cobie has always been the baby of the family, but since she’s lived outside of Harden Heights for almost half her life, I’ve been nothing but Baby Brother for the majority of mine.My chest swells with warmth while the last of my annoyance melts away, and I wrap my arms around her.
“Anytime, Cobes.”
And damn, do I mean it.
5
JUNE
My knuckles rap against the heavy door, and I step back, holding the strap of my backpack until my fingers turn white.I shouldn’t be nervous.Why am I nervous?Oh.Because I’m in Harden territory, that’s why.Pretty sure Lexie and Violet are rubbing off on me because before Violet moved in, I didn’t even know there was a thing like Harden and Drift territory.I mean, I knew there was a shady side of town and a rich side of town, but actual territories?Not so much.
Where are you, Vi?
Violet’s been a busy bee, and I seriously don’t mind it ninety-nine percent of the time.But ever since I received my midterms for math, I’ve been kind of freaking out.My lips scrunch on one side as I stare at the heavy—and very unmoving—door.Did she forget?Please say she didn’t forget.I wouldn’t put it past her.It’s not that she doesn’t think of others.It's just…after the last fight night, she’s been a little distracted.Battling my annoyance, I dig through the top pouch of my backpack in search of my phone so I can give Violet a call when the door swings open.
“Well, if it isn’t my friend of a friend.”
My head snaps up, and my heart stalls in my chest.Here he is.Ford Harden.In all his half-naked glory.Looking at me with his emerald green eyes that I swear are directly attached to my ovaries.It seriously isn’t fair.The Harden genes are no joke, and Ford’s the worst culprit of all.His hair is damp, and his shirt is missing.But the signature Ford smirk?Yeah, it’s still very much in place.And the muscles on this guy?He’s lean, but strong.So strong, I can practically count the individual abs from here.I fight the urge to squirm.“H-hi.”
Rubbing a towel over his hair, he tilts his head, then folds his arms.“Hi.”
“Hi,” I repeat.
His smirk grows.“Hi, June Bug.”
He’s doing it again.The whole, I’m-not-going-to-throw-you-a-bone bit, rather I’m-going-to-watch-you-fumble-until-you-pick-yourself-up-off-the-ground bit.He’s done it more times than I can count since we first met.I’d be annoyed if I weren’t almost grateful.Not for the awkwardness.Yeah, I could definitely do without the awkwardness.But for the opportunity to start fresh and lead the conversation instead of simply following along, all because the man is a master at leaving me tongue-tied.Which he’s done again, all because he answered the door without a shirt.
