Page 11 of Corrupt Me

Whatever. Screw Tristan.

Was I really going to let a bully tell me who I could and couldn’t love? There was a motive behind him wanting me to break up with his brother, and I deserved to know why. He owed me that much. I might have been in shock yesterday, but today, I was ready to take on the eldest Malone, no matter how stupidly hot he was.

I refused to live my life for someone else. There were no do-overs. This life we were given was short in the scheme of things. It only took a split second, and poof, it could be taken from us.

My mind was made up.

Tristan could suck it.

It had been lessthan twenty-four hours since I’d run from mysafe place, and it was weird how in that small amount of time so much could change. I wrapped my arms around myself staring at the Malones’ massive house from the circular driveway. Taking a deep breath of salt-laced air, I moved forward with purposeful steps, stopping at the front double doors. I eyed the doorbell, chewing on my lower lip. Did I ring the bell or walk in as I’d always done?

Why did this have to suddenly be so complex?

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d rung the bell, and I decided that wouldn’t change.Screw Tristan, remember.

A pang went through my chest at the thought.

There had been a time I very much wanted to screw Tristan. Hell, the other night, I’d been in his bed willing and ready. What did that say about me?

That I was seriously fucked up.

Pressing down on the brass latch, I let myself into the open foyer, and voices traveled from down the hall where I knew the kitchen was. I followed the sounds, my canvas tennis shoes clapping quietly over the marble floor.

Blaine and Anna were in the kitchen going through their morning routine. The sight of Blaine sitting on the table with his probably second cup of black coffee and Anna eating a slice of avocado toast while standing at the island filled me with ease. There was a comfort in seeing some things never changed.

Anna looked up, sensing my presence, and a genuine smile beamed on her lips. She was tall and slim, and her little tennis skirt showed off her defined tan legs. Her long honey-colored hair was pulled back into a low ponytail. It was Sunday morning, which meant Anna had her tennis lesson. “Hey there,” she greeted, coming around the counter and engulfing me in a hug. Her hair smelled of shampoo and expensive hair products. “We miss you. Preston said you left yesterday.”

I leaned against a cabinet, toying with the cloth runner spread on top of the island. “Sorry, I was hoping to tell you first. I needed a few days to myself and to get ready for school.”

“I can’t believe you and Preston are both leaving. We’re so proud of you.” Her eyes misted, and if I didn’t steer the conversation quickly enough, she would be taking a tumble down memory lane. That was a street I wanted to stay clear of.

“I couldn’t have done it without you both. Is Preston home?” I asked.

Her head bobbed up and down as she took a sip from her mug. “Somewhere. I swear I hardly saw the two of you allsummer. Is there anything I can say to get you to come back? I know it is just a few days...”

“I appreciate it.” I jumped in before she pleaded. “You’ve both been too generous, but I think I need to do this.”

She squeezed the top of my hand. “Well, you’re always welcome here, honey, you know that?”

I swallowed. “I do.”

“We’re still driving you up to school, right?” she asked, hopefulness weaving into her voice.

I nodded, unable to disappoint them. My dad wouldn’t be home for another month. “Yep,” I replied. Sam would meet us up there with her parents. It was hard to believe next week I’d be a college freshman. In some ways, I felt so old, older than my eighteen years. And in other ways, I still felt like a little girl who wasn’t ready to leave home.

Change blew.

“Have you had breakfast?” Blaine asked, peering over his newspaper to give me a charming grin, much like his sons. It was easy to see when looking at Mr. Malone where Preston and Tristan inherited their good looks. Blaine wasn’t hard on the eyes for a dad.

“I’m fine. I just came to see?—”

From the corner of my eye, I saw movement, and my heart thrummed in my chest like I’d just taken speed. Tristan strolled in and I sucked in a breath.

Shit.

Fuck.

Why did he have to look so damn good? It wasn’t fair. Assholes shouldn’t be allowed to be drop-dead gorgeous too. It should be outlawed.

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