Page 51 of Broken Prince
“Thanks.” He laughs. “I like you too.”
And this is the reason why I need to find myself another man or get a hobby or something, so that I don’t find myself in his sons’ beds. I can’t imagine my mom losing this. I won’t let that happen.
“Laney!” Winter’s excited voice has me turning around to see her and Elijah entering the kitchen. “First day of school. Are you excited?”
My eyes find Elijah’s. He gives me a small smirk, as if he knows what I’m thinking, before taking a seat at the island. Winter sits next to him, and I shift my attention over to her.
“I am. Even picked out a few classes I think I’ll like.” I still have no idea what I’m going to get a degree in, no inkling of what I want to do, despite the hours of taking quizzes and tests to see what careers would best suit me. But I picked some generally important classes like Geometry for math, an English class called Reading Literature Across Time, a Zoology course for Science, as well as World History.
I kept my workload limited because I don’t want to overwhelm myself the first semester.
I wasn’t lying when I said I would have made a life for myself dancing. It’s one of the things I was truly passionate about. I used to do a bunch of different styles like jazz, tap, hip hop, but my favorite was ballet.
“What about clubs?” Mom asks me. “Anything you might be interested in?”
“I looked at the list, and a few stood out. Photography looked cool.” I shrug, taking another piece of bacon as I try not to look at Elijah. He’s making it hard because I can feel his eyes on me, causing my skin to pebble under his attention.
“Oh yes, yes, yes!” Winter’s eyes light up. “Please, please, please join it. I’m a part of it, and it would be awesome to have a friend there, too.”
I smile at her excitement, no way I’d be able to say no. “Well, I guess photography club it is.”
“Yay.” She claps her hands together in excitement. My eyes drift over to see Elijah smiling at his friend like he’s happy, that she’s happy. He catches me looking, and mouths thank you.
How hard is this girl's life?
How could it be so hard for her to make friends? She’s fun to be around, kind, sweet. Sure, she talks a lot, but I can at times, too.
There’s this part of me that wants to protect her every time I hear about something shitty in her life or something that’s happened to her..
“Damn, that smells good.” My eyes snap up to see Owen walk into the kitchen, followed by Logan.
Their attention falls to me first, and I feel my body heat up.
“You boys eat up. We have a lot to do with work before the honeymoon. You won’t see much of this week. We’re trusting you kids to behave yourself.” James points his finger at each of us.
“Dad, we’re not kids anymore. We’re not even teenagers. We’re in our twenties,” Owen counters, grabbing a muffin and shoving it into his mouth. “Chill.” The last word comes out as a mumble around his food.
“Don’t talk while you eat.” Logan gives him a grossed-out look. “And Laney is still technically a teenager.” He looks over to me, scowling, when his eyes drop to my neck.
“Still. Make good choices.” He gives each of his sons a hug before heading out of the kitchen.
“I hope you both have fun!” Winter beams. “Sounds amazing.”
“Thank you.” Mom smiles. “I’ve never been, so I’m extremely excited. Can’t think of a more perfect honeymoon.” She turns to me. “Are you sure you're going to be okay?”
“Mom,” I groan. “I’ll be fine. This isn’t the first time I’ve been home alone while you went on a work trip. And, even though I’m nineteen,”—I shoot Logan a look and he scowls harder—“I’ve got a good head on my shoulders.”
“You do,” Mom agrees. “I’m so proud of you.”
Logan is still staring at me, or more so my throat and the attention has me nervously lifting my hand to cover my neck. Unfortunately, that move draws the other’s attention.
“What the fuck is up with your neck?” Owen frowns, moving over to stand before me.
“Hey!” I protest, swatting at him when he tries to move my hair out of the way to get a look at my neck.
“Boys, you leave your sister alone,” Mom reprimands. God, does that sound so damn weird.
“Are those hickeys?” Owen’s eyes flash with anger, ignoring my mom.