Page 27 of Little Stranger

What?

If I mention they did the same with Parker, he might go out there and lose his shit. “Don’t look at me like that. You know what they’re like when it comes to me being partnered up with some wealthy asshole. I wasn’t going to tell them no, Malachi,” I hiss. “I don’t have that luxury.”

His jaw tenses sharp enough to cut through leather. His lip is swollen at the side from me biting it, and I can feel my own lump from his nipping mine, and I want to go back to two minutes ago, because now he’s mad. His eyes flick to the door, his knuckles cracking.

Was Adam your first? The one who made you realize you liked to be choked?

My mouth drops open. “No,” I reply.

No to which part, Olivia?

Malachi looks like he wants to murder me.

You fuck him again, or anyone else, and I’ll kill them.

“I’m supposed to marry one of them,” I argue.

He eats up the distance between us, and I flinch, readying for him to hit me for the first time ever, but he just tucks the stray strands of hair behind my ears and presses a firm kiss to my lips before grabbing the rest of his clothes and disappearing out the window.

I take a second to breathe, my nerve endings still on fire, barely able to walk straight as I kick his motorbike gloves under my bed and hold the towel around me.

Unlocking the door, I open it enough to pop my head out, making sure to make myself known so she doesn’t actually call anyone’s parents. “What’s wrong?” I ask, rubbing my eyes.

Mom turns and presses her hand to her chest, paint splashed over her face from decorating. “Oh, I thought something was wrong. I heard a bang.”

I rub my eyes some more. “I just woke up.”

She smiles, and I feel bad for lying to her—for coming all over her son’s fingers two minutes ago.

“Go back to bed, sweetie. I’ll make some breakfast in the morning before you have practice.”

I nod. “Night, Mom.”

“Night.”

7

Olivia

Breakfastisquiet—Dadistrying to talk to us about his working week and telling Malachi he needs to sort his shit out so he can take over his law firm. My brother ignores him and watches me while I eat.

Parker and Adam are brought up twice, because I’ve yet to choose, and both times, Malachi fists his hands and glares at his cereal.

I can still feel his fingers inside me. I keep staring at his hands, the veins, the muscles of his arms as he stretches them above him and cracks his neck.

Mom goes to work on the room beside mine again, and Dad goes to his office, leaving me and Malachi alone at the breakfast table.

He taps his bowl with his spoon, filling the silence, before I clear my throat. “Don’t get mad at what I’m about to say.”

My brother looks up at me and drops the spoon in his bowl, folding his arms in front of himself and arching his brow slightly.

“I’m staying at Parker’s place tonight.”

Why?

“Mom arranged it.” I rub my hand down my face in exasperation. “There’s no reason for you to be looking at me like I shit in your cereal either. I was only teaching you last night so you’d know what to do, and feel comfortable doing it, when you go on your dates. That’s where the lessons end because you’re obviously a natural.”

They end when I say they end,he signs.

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