Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
I look between the two of them and realize that they both look stunned. Oh, God, I groan. Have they had sex before? But that seems highly unlikely because Laurie has been living on the streets for a while, although I don’t know the exact range of time. Besides, Channing is married, and definitely not the unfaithful type. So could Laurie be a girl from his past? Someone from college? Or even before?
“You know each other?” I ask, point blank. “What’s up with the googly eyes? Don’t tell me you’ve hooked up in the past.”
“Oh, my God,” Channing groans, holding his hands up to cover his face. “That’s fucking disgusting.”
My hackles raise.
“She’s a gorgeous girl,” I literally growl, rage beginning to spark in my eyes. “There’s nothing disgusting about what you just saw.”
But Channing interrupts then.
“Yo, yo, yo. Calm down. It’s disgusting because I just saw you fucking my sister. Who wants to see that?”
I’m automatically prepared to respond, but the words catch in my throat like I’m choking.
“Sister?” I manage in a strangled voice.
“Uh, yeah,” Channing says, now looking incredibly surprised. “Laurelin, did you not tell him…?”
Laurelin. Sister. Channing Saint’s sister. Laurie. My thoughts whirl in a tornado that take me out of the present. Not only did Laurie--Laurelin?--tell me that her brother was dead, but she definitely neglected to mention that he was a friend of mine who is certainly still among the living. She also left out another important detail: that she’s a member of one of the richest families in New York.
I can’t speak. I can’t move. There is nothing I detest more than feeling like an idiot, and right now I could put on a fucking dunce cap and be forced to sit in a corner.
Laurie’s voice shakes me from my stupor. “Tate,” she whispers. “I can explain.”
“Explain what?” Channing says in a bewildered tone. “What exactly is going on between you two? I mean, I get you were having sex, but surely the fact that you’re my sister isn’t a surprise? Haven’t you met before? Tate, my man?”
Feeling like my legs are made of jelly, I manage to tighten the towel wrapped around my waist.
“What?” I croak, still unable to process what’s happening.
But Laurelin starts again, with tears in her eyes. “Tate, just give me a few minutes to explain,” she begins.
Suddenly rage bursts from my chest.
“To explain what?” I whirl on her faster than I mean to, and a shadow of panic crosses over her beautiful face. In that moment, my heart cracks a bit, but I steel myself. Let her feel as shitty as I do. “That your brother is still alive, and is my buddy? That you lied to me about that? Oh, or maybe that you lied to me about being homeless when your family has even more goddamn money than I do. Not sure where to start, really.”
Anger crackles in my tone, and Laurelin shrinks back, her eyes filling with tears. She’s never seen me, or heard me, like this. I can be a real dick if I want to be, and at this moment, I sure as hell want to.
“Yo, yo, yo, clearly you two have something to work out,” Channing begins again, and starts to head toward the stairs. “I’ll leave you to it.”
I snap then.
“No, no need.” I hold up my palm and Channing and Laurelin both freeze. “Let me just clear a few things up. Has Laurie here ever had a falling out with your family? Has the Saint clan collectively abandoned her and left her out on the streets?”
“What?” Channing looks and sounds absolutely baffled. “Of course not. My sister has always been a Saint, literally and figuratively. No, she doesn’t work in the family business, but we provide for her because she’s one of us. In fact, her trust pays for an apartment just a few blocks away from here, so what’s this stuff about being left on the streets? Did I miss something, Laurelin? Did you move out and not tell me?”
Laurelin’s chest heaves and she lets out a tortured cry.
“It’s just that—” she begins before turning to me with pleading eyes. “Let me explain.”
But I interrupt with a rude sound.
“Thanks, Chan. You can go now. I’ll take a raincheck for the bar tonight, okay? This isn’t a good time for me, as you can see,” I add sarcastically.
“Tate, if you did anything to hurt my sister…” he warns, his eyes growing fierce.
“No,” Laurelin says, shaking her head helplessly. “No. Tate did nothing to hurt me. I did everything to hurt him.”
I let out a rude snort and Channing merely looks at both of us again.
“Okay,” he says, his tone still bewildered. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it then. Hasta la vista, buddy.”
And with that, he’s gone. I’m sure I’ll get an earful from him later, but in this moment, I couldn’t give less of a shit. I want everyone to leave. I want everyone out. I need to be alone so that I can think and process this clusterfuck.