Page 49 of The Darkest Note

“Your hot older brother has a hot older friend?” Breeze gasps. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because there was nothing to tell.”

“He gave Cadence that.” Viola points to the punching bag.

“What the hell?” Breeze’s eyes are about to fall out of her face. “That’s so sweet!”

“A punching bag is sweet?” I snort.

Viola gets up to grab something from the fridge.

While she’s gone, I pull Breeze close and speak in a hushed tone. “Don’t misunderstand. Hunter tried to give me money for the electricity, but I turned him down. After that, he brought the punching bag.”

“He came all the way here to pay your electricity?” Breeze hisses. “Why haven’t you jumped him yet?”

“Because I’m not a prostitute,” I whisper heatedly. “Am I supposed to sleep with the first guy who pays my bills?”

“No, of course not.” Viola chomps on another cucumber. “You sleep with the second guy who pays your bills.”

“Breeze.”

“Did you at least thank him for the gift?”

“She didn’t,” Vi says smartly, returning to the living room.

I cast her a dark look for her betrayal.

Breeze leans back on her slender arms and tilts her head to the ceiling. “I’m so disappointed in you, Cadey. You’ve spent your entire life taking care of yourself and now that there’s a super hot—”

“I never said he was super hot.”

“—There is literally no way he can be anything but super hot if he gave you a punching bag.” She tosses her blonde hair over her shoulder. “You’re going to DM Hunter and tell him thanks.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Fine. Then I will.” Breeze lunges over the sofa and grabs my phone.

“No!” I yell.

Viola holds me back. Locking her legs around me like a wrestler, she yells, “Do it, Breeze!”

While my traitorous sister holds me down, my best friend opens my phone.

I realize she’s going to see my messages to Jinx and panic blasts through me. Knocking my sister back with all my strength, I lunge at the phone.

“I’ll do it! I’ll do it!”

“That’s my girl,” Breeze says, smiling victoriously.

I take my phone, navigate to Hunter’s DMs and tap out a message.

“‘Thanks for the punching bag.’ See? I sent it.” I show it to them as evidence.

“Do you think he’ll respond?” Breeze asks.

I sure hope not. In fact, as soon as Breeze and Viola aren’t looking, I plan to delete that message.

As if they can read my thoughts, they stare at the phone waiting for a response.

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