Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 220
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Eliot grinds his teeth, his jaw flexing.
“He’s boring her to sleep, dude,” I assure him under my breath. “Means nothing.”
Jane twirls a feather between her fingers. “How’s Ben doing?”
“Mostly good.” Beckett rubs his hands on his pants. “Probably bad if he gets wind that the five of us are having a meeting in the bathroom. He might think it’s about him.”
“It’s not a meeting,” I point out. “This wasn’t even planned. You three interloped on our private conversation.” I turn to Charlie. “And if you must know—”
“Didn’t ask.”
“I’m officially in a relationship with Phoenix.”
Charlie nods a couple times and looks to Beckett.
“Boyfriends,” Beckett says.
Charlie inhales with a click of his tongue.
“What is that noise? What the hell does that mean?” I panic.
“It means we’re happy for you, Tom,” Beckett says. “We just didn’t think Phoenix was the type. That’s all.”
“Maybe you should get to know him better,” I sling back. “He’s had boyfriends before. More boyfriends than me.”
Charlie fixes the frilly collar to Maeve’s dress. “That’s not a high bar since you’ve had a grand total of zero.”
“And how many girlfriends have you had, Charlie Keating?” I shoot back. “A grand total of zero.”
“We’re not talking about me.”
Beckett changes the subject. “Has anyone else seen what Audrey is wearing tonight?”
“Is that her big news?” Eliot frowns. “A wardrobe change?”
Audrey normally comes to dinner in 18th- and 19th-century European-style dresses. Usually ones with a corset and lace. I can’t imagine she’d stray too far off her norm.
Charlie’s the one person that I can never pin down what he’ll be wearing for dinner. It changes constantly. A wrinkled button-down and slacks, pajamas, tailored suits, leather pants straight off the runway from Paris Fashion Week, velvet vests, cashmere sweaters, no shirt, two shirts. He’s an endless mystery.
Tonight, he chose a brown three-quarter zip sweater. I’d call it neutral. Safe, even. There could be meaning to it, or Charlie just closed his eyes and grabbed a random item out of his closet.
Jane holds up her hands like she’s prepared to broker peace. “Audrey is allowed to wear whatever she pleases, just like all of you.”
“She’s seventeen,” Beckett counters.
Oh no. I’m wincing. “Is she in like booty shorts?” I know my sister is getting older, but she will always be my baby sis, and I do not want to see that.
Beckett waves a hand to the door. “Go and see for yourself.”
“Fine. I will. Older sibling meeting adjourned.” I clap my hands and leave the bathroom, only to find I’m the only one leaving. Fuck. The door closes behind me.
They’re going to talk about me. Guaranteed.
I’m half-a-second from pressing my ear against the door when Ben walks by with a glass pitcher of water. He’s wearing a typical MVU Thrashers T-shirt over track pants. Spring semester just ended and unlike his pre-med girlfriend, he decided not to take classes this summer and instead focus more on conditioning for the next hockey season.
MVU won the Frozen Four in early April, and the timing sat just right that I could see my brother become a national hockey champion.
Seeing his smile on the ice still lives joyfully inside my head.
“Hey,” Ben smiles as bright now. “Congrats on you and Phoenix.”
How does he know?
Ben frowns off my stupefied reaction. “Was…was that a secret?” he asks, looking gutted. Devastated. Like he just royally fucked up a big announcement. Little does he know I just word vomited in the bathroom and fucked it all up myself.
“No, no, not a secret. You’re good, dude. I’m just trying to figure out how you gained telepathy tonight.”
“Harriet texted me.” His grip tightens on the water pitcher. “She’s having dinner with Phoenix and Joana.”
“Excuse me, what?” I choke out. “She’s doing what with whom?”
He laughs. “It’s just dinner. You know—what we’re doing now.”
“Right…” Except Phoenix didn’t text me about it. I reach for my phone in my pocket. “I’m sure my phone is on silent, and I just missed his texts.” Not on silent. Zero texts. I’m about to go deep into my well of feelings when I realize that Phoenix told Harriet we’re dating.
Phoenix told Harriet.
He didn’t even keep it a secret for a day.
But how did he even phrase it to her? Something casual? Or did he use the word boyfriend? This is an important distinction for my personal notes.
I jog to catch up to Ben whose long legs are carrying him fast down the hall and toward the dining room. “What exactly did Phoenix say to Harry?” I question.
“That you’re boyfriends.”
Holy shit, he called me his boyfriend to Harriet fucking Fisher. I’m grinning so hard I might just levitate right here, right now. Pass me a feather duster, I can clean the chandelier.
Ben’s smiling off my smile—and that just makes me feel ten hundred times better.
All good things must come to an end.