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“No!” Christopher grits at him viciously.
“God, you’re so bossy.” Turning to look at me he tips his head toward Christopher and with a feigned whisper says, “So bossy.”
I shake my head, laughing at his piss taking grin. He knows exactly how to wind people up, and like the arsehole he is, he enjoys it like it’s a sport.
“Anyway, how’s the dissertation?”
For a moment his provocative grin softens into a sympathetic smile, something you don’t see often from him. He’s normally very buttoned up and formal with his sentiments. Preferring to hide behind his arrogant humour.
“It’s getting there, I guess. It feels like it’s the longest diatribe, but I suppose that’s what a dissertation is meant to be. Obviously, it doesn’t help that I’ve chosen restoration and conservation as my focus and Professor Winthrop is like the John the Baptist of the subject.”
“Stop it, I’m sure she’s lovely. I’ve seen her around and she’s really nice.” Arabella says, her cheeks are flushed like she’s too warm.
“Sounds more like you know her, rather than you’ve seen her around.”
“It’s a small, small world…” Freddie sings, his snickers audible as he gets up from the table again. “Come on then, Princess. Are you coming or not?”
“Depends on where it is.”
“Seriously, Cass, you need to get with the programme!”
“What programme? Nobody tells me anything!” Standing up, I tilt my head back to meet his gaze. Freddie pauses, looking at me with a pensive frown that has my breath sticking in my airway. There’s something behind his cold eyes that softens and warms, it’s the same look he gave me at our grandfather’s funeral.
“Why are you looking at me like that, Fred?”
“I’m not.” Shaking his head, he guides me out to the hallway quietly. When we reach the cloakroom, he nips in and grabs our coats. “Stop burying yourself under all your books.”
“I have a degree to ace.”
Blowing out a breath, like I’m exasperating him, he grabs his keys from his coat pocket as he stops by the door. “Party today, master the arts tomorrow. Tonight is going to be fucking epic!”
“What happened to a small get together?” Arabella approaches us, an accusing glare directed right at Freddie.
“What always happens to our small gatherings…”
“For fuck’s sake, Fred, we really did mean small.” Christopher knocks our cousin’s shoulder with his fist.
“It was inevitable. Word always gets out.” A goofy grin lights his face as he shrugs. He’s so good-looking and almost too striking that I’m surprised he doesn’t have a string of girls constantly latched on to him. “Plus, we have shit to tend to that looks better done in a crowd.”
“You’re a fucking liability, you know that?” With a growl, Christopher helps Arabella into her coat before leading her out of the door.
Following them out of the house, I tug down the hem of my grey jumper dress. Pulling my powder blue faux fur coat taut around me.
Christopher opens the passenger door to his sleek Lexus and helps Arabella in. Slamming the door shut he looks across the roof of his car and scowls at Freddie. “Prick.”
Nothing ever changes with them. They’ve always been like Tom and Jerry, constantly fighting and jibing, but unable to live without each other.
“Get over it.” Freddie gives him the finger, turning us both towards his sporty, dark grey Merc. “Coming?”
“Yes, but what shit are you up to?”
“Guy shit,” Christopher replies taking my hand and pulling me towards his car. “If you’re coming, you’re with me.”
“Fucking chill, bellend! I’ve got it all covered, anyone goes near her and it’ll be all pew, pew, pew…”
“You’re not some frontier cowboy,” I tell him with a roll of my eyes and knock to the gut. “Or my bodyguard, so…”
“Who invited you, though?”
