Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 153544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
“Easy on the alcohol, Glyn,” Cecily chastises from beside me. She’s been nursing one glass of tequila since we got here.
“Let her be.” Remi slides a shot glass in my direction. “I love drunk Glyndon.”
I smile with one eye open and hold the glass up, then drink it. “One in your honor, Remi.”
“Hell to the fucking yeah.” He pours another shot down his throat. “My lordship has decided to forgive you for choosing this boring pub.”
I roll my hand exaggeratingly and bow. “Much appreciated, Your Majesty.”
“It’s your lordship, peasant.”
“Her mum has a lady title.” Ava pokes him with a chip. “Ignorant much?”
“Wait, really? How come I’m only finding out about this now?” Remi looks up, placing an L on his chin in a comical thoughtful gesture. “Must be because you all act like peasants, except for you, Bran. You’re definitely aristocracy. Beautiful, suave, and with that untouchable charisma. You take that after me.”
Bran shakes his head. “I was born before you, Remi.”
“So? You can still take after me. Isn’t that right, Cray Cray?”
My cousin seems more preoccupied with his phone than anyone at the table.
Annika lounges opposite him, looking like a real-life Barbie. She stopped chattering on and on in Creigh’s company lately and even started to distance herself. Not sure if it’s because she gets absolutely no answer in return or she couldn’t be bothered anymore. Sometimes, I feel sorry for her. She had to be interested in someone who doesn’t feel the need to talk.
It’s why he gets along with Bran. They can sit around for hours on end and not say a word. No kidding. Ava and Remi tested it once.
Since Bran gets along with Mia, Creigh could, too, if he meets her. Though in the few times we’ve gotten together over the past couple of weeks, I gathered that she’s expressive, just doesn’t talk. Killian said it’s due to an incident that took place in her childhood. And he’s become her personal translator whenever Bran and I are around.
Sometimes, he’ll be a dick and refuse to, so she’s teaching us sign language now.
Despite his wanker behavior, I like Killian when Mia’s around. He treats her like his little sister, just like Nikolai does. Her twin, Maya, told me that he once broke a high school boy’s jaw because he kept bullying her for being ‘mute.’
Nikolai was offended that he was the last to hear, so when the boy healed, he sent him back to the ER for other injuries.
And while the recounting of events had me shocked for a while, I’m more touched about his involvement in Mia’s life.
It’s a side of him that shows he can care. That, under the right circumstances, he can consider something precious.
Or maybe I’m just deluding myself.
One more shot.
“Seriously, Glyn, aren’t you going too far?” Cecily and her doppelgänger frown.
“When did you get a twin?” I slur.
“When you’re drunk.”
“Pfft, I’m not drunk. Come on, guys. Let’s play a game.”
“How about an I’m ghosting my friends for dick game,” Ava grumbles, probably drunk herself. She can’t hold her alcohol to save her life.
“Didn’t need that image.” Bran grimaces and she winces, then hugs his shoulder.
“Ugh. Sorry about that.”
“Apology accepted. Now, can you please stop touching me, or I’ll be in worse trouble if Eli finds out about this.”
Her cheeks turn red. “Eli can go fuck himself.”
Everyone but Creighton gasps. I giggle. “You go, girl.”
It’s her turn to bow to me, “Thank you, my lady.”
“For public record and life insurance reasons, my lordship did not hear that. I recommend that you all do the same if you plan to live for more than a few days.”
“As much as I hate to say this, I agree with Remi,” Cecily says. “Let us all pretend Ava didn’t say that.”
“But I did say it, and I’d say it again. Fuck E—”
Cecily slaps a hand on her mouth. “You’re drunk, you little shit. When you wake up in the morning, you’ll remember this and thank me and your lucky stars.”
“You’re too young to have a funeral, Ava.” Bran passes her a cold glass of water. “Drink this and start to develop amnesia.”
Ava grumbles some more about how we’re all fucking cowards, among other colorful words.
I slap my hands on the table. “Game! Game! Game!”
“God, this is my lordship asking you to make a permanent drunk version of Glyn. Amen.” Remi grins at me. “What type of game?”
“Dunno. Never have I ever?”
“Let’s do this!” He holds an imaginary mic. “I’ll go first.”
“You always go first,” Cecily says.
“That’s right.” Ava puffs her chest. “Glyn wanted this, so let her play first.”
“Play what?”
My spine jerks and I think I’m definitely drunk, because my reaction is delayed as hell. It takes me some time to realize that the voice isn’t in my head.
I become aware of the thickening of the air, and how it mixes with his cologne. How his presence slowly but surely eats up the atmosphere and leaves no oxygen to breathe.