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Shrugging, I keep my gaze locked on my sister’s. “I survived, and so will you. If you end up with a few bruises, you take pictures, and then you threaten to release them to the press, and that will keep them away from you for the rest of your life.”
She shudders visibly, and it surprises me how weak she is. I never realized how beaten down by them she was. She’s always struck me as so strong and self-assured, and maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe this is all an act, but right now, she looks pitiful.
After a long moment, she nods. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I question.
“Yes, I need to do this. I can’t marry Geoffrey, I just can’t, so I need to figure out a way to fail a test that I know all the answers to,” she says, nodding her head concisely like she’s convincing herself.
“I have an idea,” Kip says cautiously.
Turning my head, I look at him and find him grimacing slightly. “You’re not going to like it,” he says.
“What?” I ask.
“Well, the easiest way to get rid of all of Penelope’s tutors is if she doesn’t need them anymore,” he says slowly, looking at us all like he’s waiting for us to catch up.
“No,” Gulliver growls from beside me, his fingers clenching tightly around my waist.
“What?” I ask, twisting to look at him.
“He’s saying you should go back,” he snarls, his lips pursed in a hard, unyielding line.
“It makes sense,” Kip continues. “Izzy moves back in. She plays the role of the subservient daughter. She agrees to take Penelope’s classes again, only she doesn’t. A week, and this would all be over. Penelope fails, the girls leave, and it’s done.”
“No,” Gulliver barks. “Not happening, no. There’s no way I’m letting those evil bastards get her back in that house. I’d never see her again; they’d never let me.”
“He’s right, it’s the easiest way,” I say.
“No. Don’t even think about it. If you step foot in that house, I’ll release those pictures of your face, and I’ll tell everyone who will listen. I’d do that for you, Izzy, even if it hurt you, because I care about you too much to let them have you again,” he demands, dragging me into his lap and burying his face in my hair, a slight tremor running through him.
“He’s right,” Penelope says, surprising me. “You can’t go back there. I’ll just fail the next test on purpose. It won’t be hard. I’m pretty clueless even when I’ve got the answers.”
“It’ll be okay,” I say, trying to reassure her.
“No, it won’t, but I still have to do it,” she says, pulling her lips into a shaky smile.
“Let’s order room service. I’m starving,” Thorn suggests, breaking the tension and making me smile. The boy is always hungry.
By the time I woke up the next morning, tangled in Gulliver’s arms in the enormous, super-king-sized bed, a strong feeling of hopefulness was building within me. After we ate delicious food, we plotted ways to help my sister fail a test. Our parents appear to have the school primed and ready to ensure she graduates with that all-important 4.0, no matter the cost.
Right now, our best plan is an unexpected pop quiz, oral discussion, or presentation that our parents can’t manipulate to ensure she brings her grade down that significant single point, but we have no idea when an opportunity will arise.
“Morning, Ghost,” Gulliver rasps, his voice thick with sleep, his cock hard and enthusiastically saluting the sun.
“Morning.” The fact that our fake relationship is becoming more and more real is playing on my mind. I know I should be stopping this, but with everything that’s going on with my sister, the constant events, parties, and media attention, I haven’t allowed myself to dwell on the fact that this stopped feeling like a lie weeks ago.
I love that he calls me his Little Ghost. I love that he calls me his, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. I love waking up with him. I love the way he touches me, and I love the way he reacted so vehemently to the idea of me going back to my parents’ house when Kip suggested it last night.
When Gulliver and I are together, he acts like a possessive boyfriend, and even though I consider myself somewhat of a feminist, I can’t deny that I love his growly caveman side. The sex is unbelievable, and for the first time in what feels like a lifetime, I feel seen and wanted. If you’d have asked me a month ago—after that first dinner with him when he thought I was Penelope—if there was ever a time when I thought I’d have any kind of feelings beyond revulsion for Gulliver Winslow, I’d have laughed. But I’m not laughing now. Right now, he feels like the lightning that brightens the sky after the thunder rumbles. He’s still dangerous, but it’s a beautiful danger—the kind that makes your blood sing and makes life exciting and terrifying all at the same time.
Being with him is stupid, it’s a risk, but I just don’t seem to be able to bring myself to care.
40
GULLIVER
When Monday and the start of a new school week rolls around, I walk into GAA holding my Little Ghost’s hand and feeling like a motherfucking king. There’s not a single person at Green Acres Academy who doesn’t know her name, and even though that makes me want to go kamikaze on every guy who glances in her direction, it’s also the reason why my mouth is spread in a wide smug grin, because she’s mine and not theirs.
