Page 175 of Sinful Like Us
“Moffy,” I say. “Let’s not make this worse for her.”
He instantly nods. “Alright. We’ll wait.” We only want the best for our siblings, and he has to be hard on them to help them. I have to be hard on Beckett too, but being a hardass isn’t in my arsenal like it’s in his.
I feel like I’m failing Beckett every single day.
And I’m worried Plan Z might be implemented while we’re here.
Our heads turn as Thatcher removes the entire door, and I walk into his arms. He constantly checks the hall to make sure Tony or O’Malley don’t appear and witness our embrace.
Behind us, Maximoff and Farrow are chest-to-chest in a long hug. I can’t really tell who is holding who.
“You’re burning up.” Thatcher has my cheeks in his hands.
“Embarrassment is a very hot and mighty thing,” I say softly. “Is midnight here yet?”
He checks his watch. “An hour till.” His eyes flit to my best friend. “You should tell him what you told me. He’ll be happy for you.”
“I will.” I smile, emotion building because this man wants me to share my life with my best friend too. No jealousy. No hurt. Just understanding.
I love him.
Fear pinches at the feeling, just slightly, but I slip my hand in his back pocket. Not wanting him to go.
I’d like to spend midnight in his arms, but we can’t if Tony is in view. “Will the others notice if we stay up here for a little while longer?”
“No.”
So we do. And we hide from the harsher realities that will come all too soon.
35
JANE COBALT
13 Days Snowed-In
“If we do this,there is no return,” I tell Charlie.
I want to ensure this is the right choice and he’s not just zipping down to the last resort plan because he’s been cooped up in Mackintosh House.
And the last resort is also known asPlan Z.
Charlie has fingers to his lips, gazing out the window. The tower room is the highest point in the house with panoramic views of the highlands. Snow drifts softly from the sky, the storm letting up today. Hopefully tomorrow. Hopefully it will all just melt and we can finally leave.
But until then, we have graver issues.
Thatcher stands stoically against green wallpaper. An old black-and-white sketch of the Holyrood Palace is framed in gold and hangs near his broad shoulder. We share a serious look off my brother’s silence.
Charlie is usually confident about whichever road he drives down. Even if that street is riddled with regrets and hatred, he will meet all at full speed.
A moment passes.
Just one more, and his yellow-green eyes land on me. Assuredness etched in his irises. “We’re doing this.” He seizes his cane that leans up against the windowsill. “Beckett still hasn’t made up with Sulli, and he’s madenopromises not to use coke.” He lets out a dry laugh. “What’s even the point of bringing him here if he’s going to keep using drugs the second he returns to ballet?”
No point.
Not really.
We just delayed the inevitable.
