“No.” She scoots over, her flat voice and flat eyes opaquing her thoughts from them, from me.
“Did you take anything, Bris?” Kai asks sweetly.
“You know,” Bristol says, mouth tipped to the left, “I didn’t. I was rushing and didn’t even think to.”
“Come on. We’ll get you something.” Kai presses her hand into the couch for leverage, and Bristol stands to help pull her the rest of the way.
“Whoa. Careful there, little mama.” Bristol smiles for the first time since she arrived. She’s already got a soft spot for her niece. “Let me help you.”
Rhyson’s eyes leave the screen and fix on his petite wife with her hand pressed to the small of her back. He and Bristol exchange a quick grin. He’s still watching Kai as she and Bristol climb the steps and leave the room.
“Dude!” Simon laughs triumphantly, pointing to his winning score onscreen. “That’s what happens when you take your eyes off the prize.”
“Oh, my eyes were on the prize.” Rhyson tosses the controller to the floor. “I’m out. Food? Sarita left raw meat. I think I can manage to get it to and from the grill without the fire department intervening.”
“Maybe I should handle the grill.” I follow him out onto the patio adjacent to the rec room. “Remember the last time you tried to grill?”
“Nothing was lost or destroyed,” Rhyson says.
“Unless you count Grady’s eyebrows.”
“God, he looked ridiculous for months.” Rhyson’s laugh booms over the memory of the uncle he lived with here in LA when he emancipated. “Too much lighter fluid. That was the problem.”
“No, you not knowing what the hell you were doing was the problem.”
Max and Sarah join us, stretching out on two lounge chairs and scrolling on their phones.
“Daaaaaaaaamn.” Max sits up on the lounge chair and flips his legs around to face Sarah. “Did you see Spotted?”
“No, what . . .” She checks her phone, eyes stretching. “Oh my God. Is this true?”
“Photographic evidence.” Max’s delighted laugh lights up his face. “Well, at least now we know who Bristol was with and what she was doing.”
My head snaps around when he mentions Bristol’s name. So does Rhyson’s. He beats me to the punch.
“What are you talking about?” He walks over to Max’s lounge chair. “What about Bristol?”
Max and Sarah pick up on the fact that neither Rhyson nor I find the prospect of Bristol on Spotted, one of the most viral gossip sites, as amusing as they do.
“Gimme your phone, Sarah.” I stretch my open palm to her, waiting until she reluctantly hands it over.
Well, shit.
Spotted has a pictorial chronicling Bristol’s date last night. Bristol and Charles Parker climbing into a helicopter. The two of them drinking in an intimate nook, the Vegas strip lit up behind them. Parker deplaning at a private hangar and getting into his Viper. Him pulling out of her driveway this morning. And then him kissing her in front of a jewelry store not even an hour ago.
Really? A Viper? You can’t tell me this guy doesn’t have a small dick. He’s overcompensating for something. Has to be. But my girl . . . or I thought she would be my girl one day . . . is sitting on his fucking lap in Vegas drinking vodka martinis. And it looks like he spent the night. Every detail is a poisonous dart piercing my skin, toxic to my system. Jealousy, rage, resentment crawl through my blood.
“Charles Parker?” Max looks impressed. “One of the biggest fish you can catch. Go big or go home, Bristol.”
“What are you talking about?” Bristol asks, standing with Kai at the patio door. “Go big? Go home? What?”
“You dark horse.” Max crosses over to her, his grin and eyes eager. “Your secret’s out.”
Her eyes fly to mine, and we have a wordless conversation. My eyes ask questions that hers tell me I don’t want to know the answers to.
“What secret?” She frowns her confusion at Max.
“You’re all over Spotted,” Max drawls. “You and Charles Parker. How dare you keep all that juiciness from us.”