Page 90 of Vicious Little Snakes
“I’ll promise, but only if you answer something for me.” I nod as he adds, “Why?”
“Why what?”
Kai’s eyes skitter over my face before he answers.
“Why give him a pass? You invited him into your bed without ever kicking him out of your heart, Caroline. Why is that? How does he deserve your kindness? Because as your best friend, I have to say that this reeks of that shitty self-esteem you do such a good job hiding.”
I raise his hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to it. “Don’t worry about me, Kai. I’m familiar with my demons. It’s Liam that’s meeting his for the first time.”
Kai’s jaw tenses. “What he said to you—that was all meant to cut you, deep.”
I smile, giving a small shrug, looking away.
“Yes. It was. But Liam’s problem’s always been his refusal to have a damn voice, and he finally spoke. I’d much rather it be about me than anyone else.” I shift my head to look him in the eyes. “We’re all terrible fucking people that sometimes do terrible fucking things, Kai. Careful with your judgment. I’ve found that it comes back to bite you.”
Because how can I hate someone for being just like me?I understand all that’s wrong with Liam—it’s why we fail because two wrongs don’t make a right.
Kai’s shoulders relax as he lets go of my hand, shoving them into his pockets.
“Okay. I promise to be there. But no more secrets.”
My fingers brush over a pearl necklace, nervous about what I’m about to say.
“Agreed. No more, but that goes for you too because that’s what friends do. And that’s what we are now—friendsthat tell each other all the shit—good, bad, and Mila.”
Instant understanding passes over his face. Kai has secrets too, but I’ve never pressed because why would I. Kai’s never really been mine, just a placeholder for the boy I didn’t think loved me.
But if he thinks I didn’t notice months ago at the lake house, when he went missing as I was being kicked out after masterminding Donovan’s towel drop, he’s wrong. Or when we were at the club, he had Donovan take me home because he had to stay back. I even knew about Mila when he missed out on the whole cafeteria debacle.
His lips tip up as he stares at me.
“Fucking Caroline Whitmore. There’ll never be another like you, not even Mila.”
His arms wrap around me, chin resting on my shoulder from behind. “I hope you two get your shit together because you deserve to get what you want, little queen.”
I mouth “me too” into the mirror, feeling his kiss on my cheek.
* * *
The girl seated next to me turns her face to mine. “Are you nervous?”
Dying and ready to pass out.Who knew this morning that this trench would require Botox injected into my armpits so that I didn’t sweat so damn much.
The thought in my head stays there as I smile, ankles crossed, back straight. “No. Nerves are for the unprepared. I take it you’re nervous, though.”
She blinks, then looks away.
We’re seated in the entryway of a post-war classic 5thAvenue apartment that overlooks the park. A home that belongs to Barbara Wells, co-chair and oldest living matriarch to the social calendar for New York. She is the International Debutante Ball.
I’ve never been more nervous, but I’m never telling that to a girl named Pip.
Pip adjusts in her seat, brushing my arm and garnering my attention again as she says, “Sorry, Caroline.”
Of course, she knows who I am, just like I know who she is.
“Pip, correct?”
She nods, and I sweep my long chocolate locks over my shoulder.
