Page 38 of Midnight Curfew

“Or you could fuck with her,” Vincent chimes in. “Show her who else wants you and rub it in her face.”

I blink slowly, my eyelids feeling heavy with the performance. “What do I care, either way?” I mumble.

Do they think Clay fucking Collins is such a catch and I can’t do better a hundred times over?

“Well, I’m sure you’d like to keep all that blond in the genes,” Milo adds.

I force a laugh and take his flask, uncapping it for a drink.

The truth is, though, I will marry Clay. My father likes what her parents bring to the table in terms of real estate, wealth, reputation, and family pedigree. Her grandmother, Gigi, is damn near the matriarch of St. Carmen.

But my father also hates that her parents don’t participate in the Wolfe Room. They want nothing to do with it, and marrying his son to their daughter would be a great way to make sure they have to endure him for the rest of their lives.

Clay’s not awful, though. I don’t dislike her.

She’s smart and beautiful, and I don’t dread talking to her. We have another year of high school, and she’ll go away to Wake Forest—me to UPenn—and my father wants to make sure I solidify a bond I can rekindle later when we’re ready.

I’m putting it off as long as possible, but this year is my last chance. I’ll have to make it happen. Make sure she understands that I’m going to be her ticket to a great life someday.

Milo shifts in his seat, looking out the window and yawning at the wild landscape. “We should’ve brought your sister.”

I toss the flask back into his lap, making sure it lands right on his dick. He lurches forward, groaning as he lifts it off his groin.

“Stepsister,” I mutter.

“They like our women.” He takes another sip. “She might’ve bought us some time.”

She’s only fifteen. Although that probably wouldn’t have fazed Dallas Jaeger. I saw him looking at her in her bikini today.

My father would never let her come to Sanoa Bay, though, not even for lunch. The pretty, pretty princess stays home when he’s home, and when he’s not, he sends her shopping, and she makes videos for Daddy, modeling all of her outfits. I told her it was fucking weird, and she told me I was jealous of their closeness.

Yeah, okay. I’m bitter.

It’s still fucking weird, though.

“She’s not a woman,” I remind Milo.

Thunder rolls across the sky, and I tilt my head out the window, the moon lighting up the clouds. In the distance, the sea stretches out like a vast plain, not a single light from a rig or a cruise ship.

Serene. Untouched. Prime real estate.

And it’s being wasted on people who can’t manage the bare minimum, like cleaning up their yards.

“Macon Jaeger is not going to put up with us coming over here,” Cameron tells us.

“And Army Jaeger does whatever he says,” Milo adds.

“And Iron Jaeger,” Vincent chimes in, “will try to kick our asses before we can even get a slice of pie.”

Olivia Jaeger might welcome us if she wants to keep the peace at school.

Trace Jaeger’s no threat. He doesn’t have an opinion without his brothers’ consent.

And then there’s…

“Dallas Jaeger…” I muse out loud. “He invited us.”

More like “dared,” but I’m not picky.