His best friend, he announced. Spencer. Fourteen and incredibly tall, with ruddy cheeks and braces on his teeth. Hands in his pockets, trying to play it cool, though I could see the way he tipped his head back, taking in the monstrosity called our home that’s been in the Lancaster family for generations.
He was impressed. Who isn’t? Our family wealth is unlike anyone else I know—we are truly the one percent.
Whit introduced us, and all I could offer was a soft hi and an awkward wave, which made Spencer smile.
I immediately wanted to see that smile again.
The first couple of days, I followed them as much as possible, spying on my brother and his friend wherever I could. I was bored, with no one to spend time with. Carolina was participating in the annual production ofThe Nutcrackerat the dance academy she attends, and we never saw her.
Typical.
Whit warned me off at one point, about two days into Spencer’s stay. He caught me spying on them in one of the hallways and yanked me into my bedroom, slamming the door behind him so Spencer wouldn’t witness the tear down.
“Stay the fuck away from us,” Whit had growled, his eyes glowing with anger, his finger thrust in my face.
He’d been angry for a while. At least the last year or so, and I truly didn’t understand why.
“I’m bored,” I’d whined. “And your friend seems nice.”
“He hates you,” Whit told me, making me flinch. “He said so.”
“Out loud?” I found it hard to believe. How could a boy who didn’t even know me hate me?
“He’s not interested in little girls.” Whit sneered. “You’re only thirteen, Sylvie. Quit lusting after him.”
Those words hurt. So much, that I immediately stopped following them everywhere and spying on them. That’s my brother—he knew just what to say to cut you deep. His words were harsh, and they’re only getting worse.
Two days before Christmas, Spencer found me sitting in the library that overlooked the expansive back lawn. I was in the deep blue velvet chair next to the Christmas tree that stood in the window, magnificent with its sparkling white lights and silver ribbon threaded throughout the lush green branches. It was one of the only real Christmas trees in the house, and therefore, it was my favorite.
Plus, no one came in here. Not really. It was a way for me to get away from my mother’s stifling behavior, at least for a little bit.
“Why are you in here alone?”
I startled at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, glancing over my shoulder to find Spencer standing in the open doorway of the library, his dark brow furrowed in…what? Confusion? Concern?
He doesn’t even know me. And supposedly he doesn’t like me. The reminder hurts, making my chest ache, and I return my focus to the tree, not looking at Spence as I say, “Go away.”
Clearly, he doesn’t listen, because he steps farther into the room, until he’s standing on the other side of the tree, his gaze on me. I feel it and I want to squirm where I sit, but my mother raised a lady and so I don’t move an inch.
“Why are all you Lancasters so mean?”
My gaze flits to his, wondering if he’s mocking me, but I see the earnestness in his gaze and realize it’s a genuine question.
“You’re the one who didn’t like me first.” Oh, I sound so young. I wish I would’ve never said that.
“Who told you that?” Before I can answer, Spencer answers his own question. “Whit.”
I nod, curling deeper into the soft chair. I bend my legs, holding them to my chest as I contemplate him. “I didn’t mean to follow you guys around like that. I just wanted to hang out with you both.”
“You should’ve said something. I would’ve let you.” He shrugs, and like the greedy girl I am, I let my gaze wander all over him, eating him up. The longing I suddenly feel deep within me is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, and I have a thought.
I want him. All to myself.
“I never said I didn’t like you,” Spencer says, his voice breaking through my thoughts. “I think it’s more that you were irritating Whit.”
“Everything irritates Whit,” I mutter, unable to hold back.
Spence smiles. “I’ve noticed.”