Page 84

“The last time we used that metaphor, youhad a stranger’s fist up your ass,” I whispered.
“I’m glad we have such romantic memories,”he said with a laugh that cut short as we entered the foyer and ranstraight into Bennett.
“Uncle Matthew,” he said with a nod, like afancy nineteenth-century gentleman meeting an acquaintance on astroll. “I was looking for my mother. Have you happened to seeher?”
“You know, I just came from the bathroom,and that hall was like, totally deserted,” I said quickly. That wasnot a core memory that a child, no matter how mature they mightseem, should ever have to grapple with. “But I did hear her kickingaround the idea of the winery trip.”
“Hmm,” Bennett intoned seriously. “Thatseems unlikely. Mother feels the winery is too touristy. Butperhaps she was in a better mood than she was this morning.”
“Perhaps,” I echoed.
“I’m sure she’ll be in a great mood when yousee her,” Matt quipped, then quickly added, “Sometimes, it’s fun toslum it a little.”
Though I knew those words were meant as awithering criticism of his sister, they stung. Being with normalfolk was “slumming it?” Was that what Matt was doing with me?
“Well, in any case, I’m off to the nursery.I find being around so many people exhausting. I need todecompress,” Bennett said in the voice of a world-wearythirty-seven-year-old. “If you do see Mother, tell her I waslooking for her.”
“Absolutely,” I promised.
We watched him go, and an unexpected lumprose in my throat. He might be the creepiest kid ever, but he wasstill a kid looking for his mom, who was busy getting railed by aguy who wasn’t the husband who constantly cheated on her. No wonderthe kids were creepily precocious; their homelife was a fuckingwreck.
“Hey,” Scott said, appearing behind us likean overzealous school dance chaperone.
Matt and I turned to him, almost guiltily,as if we were children about to get a scolding.
And Scott was more than ready to play thepart of the disapproving parent.
“It’s time we had a talk.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
(Matthew)
I needed neutral ground where Scott,Charlotte, and I wouldn’t be disturbed. Though the house was huge,it was now crammed with guests and bustling with staff at everycorner.
That left us with only one place to be, andit wasn’t neutral ground.
God, I hope we didn’t use any sex toysand leave them around, I thought, racking my brain as weentered my bedroom. Scott had been here plenty of times. He’d evencrashed on the sofa here once during spring break, not becausethere weren’t other rooms but because it’s where he would pass outanyway after marathonHalosessions.
But his sister hadn’t been staying with methen.
The staff had made the bed and cleared awayour breakfast dishes, so at least there weren’t physical remindersthat Charlotte and I had been having sex in here recently.
The stain on the back of the sofa could havebeen from anything.
“Look, we’re tense,” I said as the three ofus stood awkwardly near the door. “Why don’t we go out on thebalcony, smoke a joint, and say what’s on our minds?”
“I haven’t smoked in years,” Scott saidfirmly.
“That’s a fucking lie. You did bong rips atyour bachelor party.” Maybe I shouldn’t have brought up the failedwedding attempt.
Scott let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. But Ihave things I want to say before I get high and you trick me intothinking I’m cool with all this shit.”
“I’m glad this is already shaping up to goso well,” Charlotte muttered and brushed past us on her way to theFrench doors.
“You’re really signing up for a lifetime ofthat?” Scott asked under his breath.
I gave him a warning look, and he wiselysilenced himself.