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Part I
CAITLIN
I don’t know if I could ever complete someone. But driving another person batshit crazy seems completely reasonable to me.
—Caitlin’s Secret Thoughts
“You ready yet, kitten?”
In through the nose.
Out through the mouth.
I will not kill Callen Sinclair on my birthday.
I will not kill Callen Sinclair on my birthday.
I will not kill Callen Sinclair on my birthday.
“What was that?” My older brother’s ridiculously hot best friend leans against my door frame and crosses his stupidly big biceps over his chest... and dear lord, I think my eye might actually twitch a little as I repeat my mantra for a fourth time like I’m in the middle of my hot yoga class.
You’d think after living with Callen for four years, we’d have gotten past this love-hate relationship we’ve had since we were kids.
I mean... you’d be wrong, but you can think it.
I take another deep breath in and step into my closet.
“Nothing,” I snap back at him while I grab my hot-pink Jimmy Choos, then sit down at my vanity to put them on. I lean down, then toss my hair over my shoulder to look up at the big oaf. “Remind me again why you’re driving.”
Callen’s eyes linger a little too long on my legs before he looks away.
Good. I like to remind him that I am, in fact, a woman, and not some little girl to be ignored anymore. Even if I’m pretty sure most days Callen doesn’t even realize I have tits and a great ass. One I’m definitely going to be shaking at the bar in a few minutes while he’s probably hitting on some skank.
Not that I’m jealous or anything.
Lucky skanks.
To him. I’ll always just beMaddox’s little sister.
“I’m driving because your brother and Killian are going right from West End to the airport. Does Vegas ring any bells?”
I nail him with a glare.
“Yes, dumbass. I know they’re flying to Vegas. But half my family lives in this building. How did I get lucky enough to be stuck with your sparkling personality?” I slide on my shoes, buckle both ankle straps, then stand and adjust my dress before grabbing my clutch.
His eyes stay hard as they follow me across the room until I’m in front of him, and the sexy jerk finally smiles. It’s areallygood smile.
Dark jeans and an even darker green t-shirt shouldn’t look that good on any man, but then Callen’s never been justany man.He stands more than a foot taller than my own five feet,four inches, with thick brown hair and eyes the color of the most vibrant football field he’s probably ever played on...Not that I’ve studied his eyes or anything.
If that wasn’t enough to have half the women in Kroydon Hills panting after him, his body is a work of art. And I’m not just talking about the intricate tattoos inked on his golden skin. No... that would be too easy. It’s the whole perfectly chiseled, endlessly tanned and beautifully muscled package under his artwork that could make a woman stupid. And I’m not a stupid woman.
It’s not fair.
But then again, nothing about Callen has ever been fair.
“After you, Cait.”
“Whatever.” I close my eyes and shake my head, clearing my thoughts. I might not kill Callen Sinclair today, but no one said I couldn’t objectify him... just a teeny, tiny bit. “Let’s just go.”
