Page 9 of Wants and Needs
I am twenty years older than London—not that it’s my fault, but it’s a fact. Why did he say it like that? Is he making fun of me?
I frown at that thought. I don’t let anyone make fun of me anymore, and that sparks something in my brain to come up with a comeback.
“As opposed to you,” I bite back. “You’re just a springchicken, I suppose.” I look him up and down, which I’ve learned is something people do when they’re openly judging others.
Carter doesn’t look like he’s anywhere near his mid-twenties. He might actually be in his thirties already.
“I’m not over the thirty line like you are,” is his only answer, but this time he speaks with the right edge of his mouth tipped up. Is he amused? This time it doesn’t feel like an attack, just like... a fact.
“Please come to dinner?” London asks him again, pulling my attention to where it needs to be once more, and reminding me of my mom’s offer. “We’ll stop by Macy’s where you can get CJ’s present.” I have no clue who she’s talking about, but once more I feel my body start to relax at how easy her tone is.She’s not in danger, I tell myself.She’s fine, and I remember what she told me.
She already trusts Carter.
London might be a lot of things, a goofball, a romantic in her teenage-way, and stubborn, but she’s never been gullible.
With the life she’s led, with the experiences we’ve had, she doesn’t trust easily, and I need to remind myself that I trust her.
“Let’s go,” I mutter, and grab the cart and London’s hand at the same time. “If we’re going to go shopping and make it home in time for dinner we have to hurry.”
With my earbudsfirmly back in place and sitting on my armchair in my parents’ living room, I lean my head back and let the sounds wash away all the tension of the last couple of hours.
London and Carter spent less than ten minutes at Macy’s thankfully, and from there it was only a short, five-minute drive to the address Carter gave Paco.
We dropped him off there with strict instructions from London for him to get his ass to this place as soon as possible.
I was beyond intrigued when I saw him unlock the front door of one of the big brownstones on Park Avenue. One of the few left there since most of the street is now lined by big hotels and huge apartment buildings.
Who is Carter Din?
It’s impossible to know without asking London or doing a quick search online.
Both of those options are a no-go right now.
It might’ve taken me years, but I know now that showing interest in anything will pique my family’s interest in the wrong way—a very annoying way.
They expect certain things from me because I like structure and routine, so whenever I do something outside of that, it draws them in like moths to a flame.
I don’t feel like suffering an interrogation at the moment, so I do what I always do before family dinner.
I pour myself two fingers of whiskey and put on my earbuds to unwind the way I do every day.
It’s the only time I drink alcohol, and the only liquor I like, and it’s the perfect way to start de-stressing from whatever the day brought.
But then I hear shouting over the noise cancellation which means someone isreallyshouting.
“Larson,keepit down,” I hear Mom shout over everyone else.
My brother looks toward me immediately and winces. “Sorry, Liam,” he mutters.
“What’s going on?” I ask them.
“I was just telling them about Carter,” London explains, sending a vicious look toward Larson and Logan. “And they started squealing like little girls at Disneyland.”
“What else did you expect?” Logan demands, though in a normal voice now.
He’s the oldest of them at twenty-one, so a bit more normal—at least in my opinion—than Larson, who at seventeen needs to shout everything, and more often than not sings instead of talking like a sane human being.
“Yeah, Lon,” Larson tells our sister, calling her by that ridiculous shortened version of her name. “You tell us you met Adam Darnell’s best friend and expect us to be chill about it?”
