Page 100 of Possess Me! (I Want You To)

“Almost twenty-five, you?”

He stared at me like I was stupid. Probably because that was one of the first things I’d ever told him about me. Oops. “I know. I was asking about your siblings,” he deadpanned.

“Right.” I snorted out a laugh. “Betty’s three years younger than me, so twenty-two. And Adam’s three years younger than her.” I blinked. “He just graduated.”

Prudence nodded, his jaw ticking as he mulled over the new information.

“I don’t know how old my sisters are.”

Ah. Wow. So we were talking about his family too. Maybe there was something to be said about this whole, sharing is caring thing.

“You don’t know how old they are?”

“I don’t pay attention to stuff like that.” His nostrils flared, and I snorted as we made our painstaking way back down the hill, the mountains no longer in sight.

I bit back a smile, because obviously he did, in fact, pay attention to ‘stuff like that’ when it pertained to me.

“Younger or older than you?” I asked, curious.

“Younger.”

“Hey! Older brothers for the win!” I held up my free hand for a high-five and Prudence gave me the most unholy stank face I had ever seen in my life. I couldn’t help but snort out a laugh as I shook my head and lowered my hand. “So you don’t know how old they are…do you at least know their names?” I joked and he glared at me.

“Chastity and Vanity.”

“Jee-sus,” I whistled. “And I thought Prudence was an unfortunate name.” Prudence’s lips twisted down, into my favorite—now familiar—smile as he shook his head. “What, is your mom a religious nut or something?”

“Or something. She’s a hunter, or was. Lots of religious history in old hunting families. We have a colorful past.”

“Yee-sh.” I gave his hand a little shake. “No wonder you’re a lil’ rebel. Religious trauma, and old money? Damn.” I gave it another shake, just to watch his poker face rattle as his lips wobbled. “Mr. Tattooed-and-gorgeous.” I remembered what he’d said at the diner. That he hated his mother. That she’d been the cause of his rebellion. Maybe I shouldn’t have poked fun, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact…it was almost like he was…thawing. “So, what about you? How old are you?”

“I appear in my mid-twenties.”

“Okay…” I waited.

“If I was alive, I’d be somewhere in my mid-thirties.”

“Hot.” I nodded, winking at him, though it took me a second to process the new information. Thirties. Huh. An older man. I could totally fuck with that. Not that thirty was old, per say, but it was definitely older than I was.

“Tell me about them.”

“My sisters?”

“Sure.” I waggled my eyebrows. “Are they as cute as you?” I gave him a once over, just to watch amusement flicker behind his glare.

“They look nothing like me.”

“Really?” I arched a brow.

“We’re all adopted.”

Oh. Interesting.

“C’mon, I need details,” I urged playfully. This time I was patient, waiting—as I did my best to ignore how much my feet were aching from hopping over tree roots (Prudence just floated, the bastard.)

“Vanity feels too much, but pretends like she feels nothing. Chastity pretends she feels a lot, when she doesn’t. One is tall. One is short. One is blonde. One is rainbow. Both are annoying.”

“Interesting.”

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