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)
“So you’re going to drop me in the ocean?” I stare around at the city high-rises flanking the park. “I’m a little far away. What’s the plan here? Snatch me from behind? Blindfold me? Toss me in a helicopter? Do you have a hit man on speed dial?” I gasp. “Can I have his number?”
“Tom Carraway.”
“Oh, sorry. Is she a hit woman? Can I have her number?”
“You can have the number of my surgeon. For when I remove your tongue.”
I hiss a breath through my teeth. “Is this because I mentioned you and Dad being into BDSM—”
“Tom Carraway Cobalt,” she seethes, and that’s when I know I am pushing too far. When Eliot and I were teenagers, we stumbled on various Wiki facts about our parents that we’d never know otherwise. It just became easy fodder to try to make our dad squirm.
Spoiler: it hasn’t worked.
I think our dad might have unbreakable armor. Doesn’t get embarrassed. Barely gets flustered. If I hadn’t seen him bleed after slicing his thumb on a broken Christmas ornament, I’d think he was made of iron.
“Sorry, Mom,” I apologize. “What’s with the group call anyway? Not that I don’t love catching up with both of you at once. But I’m sensing an impending lecture.”
“Did you do something we’d need to lecture you for?” my dad asks, and the static has noticeably cleared.
I suck in a tight breath. “Nope.”
“You don’t sound suspicious in the least,” my mom tells me with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “Does this have to do with Phoenix? It’s odd we haven’t met him when we’ve met every one of your new drummers. Even the one that smelled like sour cream.”
“That’s because Phoenix and I are too busy hitting up crack dens for a meet-and-greet.”
On the bench, Phoenix lifts his head from his own phone. Oh shit. He definitely heard that. He gives me a confused look. I wave him off with a hand like it’s fine.
“Hilarious,” my mom says dryly.
“Not a joke, Mom,” I tell her. “We’re getting inspiration from every avenue we can. Next stop: Starship Surplus so we can buy some paddles and spank the creativity out of each other.”
Phoenix’s brows rise, and he mouths, the fuck.
I rub my lips, trying to hide my smile. This is too much fun.
“Interesting,” my dad says very calmly, very casually. “We’ll let his parents know that charming fact when we have dinner with them next week.” It feels like the floor just dropped out from underneath my feet.
“What?” I frown.
“It’s why we’re calling,” my mom says. “His parents reached out. They want to do dinner with me and Connor. And we wanted to check in with you before accepting.”
“Hold on.” I pull my phone back and nod to Phoenix. He’s been watching me ever since I invoked crack dens into the air. “Your parents asked my parents to dinner.”
He lets out a heavy, almost exhausted sigh. “I didn’t know, but I’m not surprised. They’re worried about this partnership. I think they’re just trying to feel out the situation.”
You’re twenty-four, I want to say. But his parents care about him enough to “feel out the situation” or whatever that means. Is that a bad thing? It’s good they didn’t just stop caring about their kid when he turned eighteen. That they’re actively involved in his life, right? Then again, my mom wants to meet Phoenix, but she’d never force a meet-up behind my back.
“So it’s okay?” I ask him.
“Unless your parents aren’t up for it.”
I put the phone back to my ear. “All good. Enjoy dinner with the St. Pierres.”
“Likewise, enjoy your spanking,” my dad tells me. My face turns beet red. Can dish it, can barely take it.
“Richard. Please wait until I’m off the fucking phone,” my mom curses. “Goodbye. Both of you.” She hangs up first.
My dad must be grinning like mad.
Once we say our goodbyes, I end the call and then join Phoenix back on the bench.
“Crack dens? Starship Surplus?” Phoenix says into a shake of his head. “Who talks to their parents like that?”
“I do,” I say proudly. “They know I like to get a rise out of them, and it’s just innocent fun.”
Phoenix studies me for a second. “I can’t tell if they’re pushovers or it’s just a weird Cobalt thing.”
“Weird Cobalt thing,” I say into a smile. “They’re definitely not pushovers. I was grounded so fucking much growing up. My favorite position was staring at the wall in timeout.”
He rubs at his lips with a bare hand. He didn’t bring gloves today, and his fingers blush from the cold. His eyes descend on mine with more seriousness. “How’d they react when you came out?”
The wind picks up, and I pull my beanie back on and down over my ears. “I never really had a whole coming out moment with them. I just always knew I liked guys. At such a young age, I was pretty vocal about my crushes. And they never made a big deal out of it. It was just understood that ‘Tom likes boys and not girls.’ And that was it.”