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“Fourteen,” Hawthorn corrects, appearing at my side, his gaze on his cell. “The Applebys just agreed to sell too.”
“Coffee? I need coffee before I can take any of this in,” Davis groans.
“I’ll get you one,” I offer, pushing up from my chair and making my way to the coffee pot that’s hissing as it fills the jug with fresh, delicious smelling coffee. As soon as it stops, I make myself a fresh cup and fill a cup for Davis. “Anyone else need coffee?” I ask. When they all shake their heads, I grab the two cups and move back to the table, placing one in front of Davis. “There you go.”
His arms shoot out, gripping me, as he hugs my waist. “Thank you, Pen, I think I might be in love with you too,” he groans.
“Keep your hands off my fiancée,” Hawthorn hisses, flicking Davis playfully in the head as he pulls me free of his friend and steers me back to my seat. Davis laughs, then grabs his head and groans, pulling his coffee toward him and bringing it to his lips.
I start to lower myself into my seat, but Hawthorn stops me, sitting down and pulling me into his lap. His arm curls around my waist, and he presses a soft kiss to my shoulder.
Kip opens his mouth to speak, but Davis lifts his hand into the air, silencing him. As he sips his coffee, his eyes slowly blink open wider. Silently, we all look at each other, then to Davis, who eventually drains his cup, lolls back in his seat, and yawns. Lifting his arms above his head, he groans as he stretches.
“Okay, go,” he says groggily.
A small laugh falls from my lips, then another until I’m giggling. “Oh my god, Davis.” I chuckle.
“What? I needed a minute,” he says with a shrug.
“You ready, dude?” Kip asks patronizingly. “You need another minute, maybe some breakfast and a massage?”
“Nah, I’m good, go ahead,” Davis says, completely ignoring Kip’s sarcastic barbs.
Rolling his eyes, Kip lifts his iPad up, tapping the screen to bring it to life. “So far, we’ve got Nouman Batrich, Clintmore, Douglas Inc., and the Applebys. Hudson Holdings and Vagnerwarmen are playing hardball, but the fact that they’re negotiating means we’ll get them too. We’re at fourteen percent so far, and if we can pin Hudson and Vagnerwarmen down to a deal, that’ll take us to twenty-one and a half. Offers will be staggered out to the rest of the shareholders over the next day or so, but it’s looking good so far.”
“My mom and dad want to put an announcement about our engagement in the society pages in the Times,” Hawthorn says, absentmindedly twisting my engagement ring back and forth on my finger.
“We should post on all of our social media too,” Davis says with a yawn.
“I have a photographer coming to our place tomorrow to take some professional pictures,” Izzy says, pulling her cell out and typing a message as she speaks. “I already spoke to Fitzy about sorting some clothes. I figured we could take some group shots of all of us, then engagement photos for you guys.”
“We should probably be prepared for Mom and Dad to lash out in some way,” I admit. “Hawthorn and I had a run-in with them as we were leaving the party last night, it got nasty, so it’s only going to be a matter of time before they retaliate.”
“Princess told them to go fuck themselves,” Hawthorn says, pride lacing every word.
“You did?” Izzy gasps. “No fair, I want to tell them to fuck themselves too,” she pouts.
“You can tell them next time we see them, Little Ghost.” Gulliver chuckles, pulling my sister toward him and pressing an amused kiss to her lips.
“I’m so fucking tired,” Davis whines. “Let’s go home, and we can catch up for dinner.”
Thirty minutes later, I’m sitting beside Hawthorn as he drives us back to The Escape, our home. I thought his parents might be mad that we’re living together at eighteen, but they honestly hadn’t seemed bothered. They even asked us to join them on a trip to Budapest in a couple of days’ time with Hawthorn’s little brother to look at some beachfront property they are thinking about buying. We had to tell them we couldn’t go, so they made us promise to spend some time with them after graduation.
I’m a little intimidated by how nice they are. His mom is sweet. She’s lovely and warm, but even after our brief meeting, I can tell she’s not a pushover. Hawthorn looks like her, while his brother favors his dad. But what became obvious as soon as I met them is that all of the Benedict men carry an air of controlled intensity.
My first reaction was to assume they were playing a game, being kind to me as part of some bigger scheme, but then I remembered that most people aren’t like that. The Rhodeses are always playing some kind of game, manipulating and orchestrating events to play out in their favor, but some people are just good and nice and honest.
Hawthorn doesn’t play with me; he’s never been anything other than unfailingly honest and forthright. He lays out what he thinks and feels. He tells me what he expects from me, but he never manipulates me because he doesn’t need to. He’s my strength, my backbone, my everything, and I have never felt stronger than when he’s next to me.
Yesterday, when he first confronted my parents and called them out on being awful human beings, I’d hidden. But knowing he was there for me, with me, I found the fortitude to stand tall, knowing that without a doubt he’d never let me fall. He’d never let me buckle or cower.
Glancing over at him, a wave of heat washes over me, but it’s not the lust I usually feel when I’m around him, it’s something more. His soft, warm eyes turn to me as he reaches over and places his hand on my thigh, squeezing gently.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I nod, using my thumb to twist the huge diamond ring weighing heavily on my finger from side to side.
“I’m not going to take it back; I don’t regret it,” he tells me boldly.
