color painted in them, “A beautiful monster.”
“A beautiful monster,” I repeat the words, which touch me at heart, knowing that’s what my own life is going to become—fun, whimsical, enjoyable, but a monster that has to be fed with theft and who knows what else. Ugh, what was I thinking when I jumped ship—literally—to join the Lost Boys? Now that I think about it, I could be Justin’s beautiful monster. Am I just a distraction from Justin’s own desperate abyss? Nick is not a Lost Boy, but he’s the kind of lost boy that, right now, seems life a relief. “Am I the only one who knows about this place?”
“And my best friend,” he shrugs, walking away from the window. “Drink?”
“No, thank you,” I pass, “but I’ll take a tour.”
Extending his hand, he smirks, “It’d be my pleasure.”
After a breathtaking tour of his mansion, we end up back in the kitchen, posted up close to the mixers, joking about different foreign dining he’s experienced (how I would never eat things like shark fin) and laughing at the sight of the girl he was dodging pacing outside the glass wall like a puppy who just can’t get picked at the pound. Before I realize it, time has slipped away from me as well as Justin from my mind. Clearly, I’m not on his. After all, he hasn’t tried to steal me away since our first meet up. Maybe hanging with Nick isn’t a bad choice. So what if it is—I’ve made worse.
Leaning against the countertop, with my elbow resting on it, I nibble on a hot, fresh-baked pretzel while watching Nick as he plays with a coaster. He’s going on and on about how ice cream will never possess the same flavor it did as when he was a kid when abruptly he stops, leans in closer to me, and asks, “So, Peyton, if you had to eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?”
“Oh, that’s a tough one,” I put the last part of the pretzel in my mouth, licking the salt remains off my fingertips in a less-than-classy way.
“Let’s narrow it down, then. The fruit you would want to eat for the rest of your life?”
Without hesitation, I sigh and turn my body so we’re facing the same direction, “Strawberries.”
“Do you like them dipped in chocolate?”
Feeling my heart melt, I place both of my elbows back on the countertop and rock on my toes, filled with nervousness. “Love them that way.”
“Ever had it with champagne?” Seeing the shake of my head, he scoots over and leans in closer, “By candlelight, with soft music playing, staring into the eyes of someone you just want to press your lips against?”
My lips quiver for a response. Then someone clears his throat, breaking up the tension between us. We turn to see Justin, Aiden, and Belle coming into the house. Immediately, I scoot over and stand up straight.
“Interrupting?” Belle purrs curiously.
“More or less,” Nick smirks, licking his lips.
“Bathroom?” Justin asks, the color in his face draining.
“To your right,” Nick points to a small hallway past the wall of windows.
“Thanks,” he says, slowly backing in that direction.
Nick turns and places his back against the counter as Belle and Aiden join us. “So, which one of you brought Peyton?”
“That’d be me,” Belle raises a finger and attempts to smirk.
“Then, I have you to thank,” he takes her hand and plants a kiss on the back of it. “For I shall treat her like an angel
“A beautiful monster,” I repeat the words, which touch me at heart, knowing that’s what my own life is going to become—fun, whimsical, enjoyable, but a monster that has to be fed with theft and who knows what else. Ugh, what was I thinking when I jumped ship—literally—to join the Lost Boys? Now that I think about it, I could be Justin’s beautiful monster. Am I just a distraction from Justin’s own desperate abyss? Nick is not a Lost Boy, but he’s the kind of lost boy that, right now, seems life a relief. “Am I the only one who knows about this place?”
“And my best friend,” he shrugs, walking away from the window. “Drink?”
“No, thank you,” I pass, “but I’ll take a tour.”
Extending his hand, he smirks, “It’d be my pleasure.”
After a breathtaking tour of his mansion, we end up back in the kitchen, posted up close to the mixers, joking about different foreign dining he’s experienced (how I would never eat things like shark fin) and laughing at the sight of the girl he was dodging pacing outside the glass wall like a puppy who just can’t get picked at the pound. Before I realize it, time has slipped away from me as well as Justin from my mind. Clearly, I’m not on his. After all, he hasn’t tried to steal me away since our first meet up. Maybe hanging with Nick isn’t a bad choice. So what if it is—I’ve made worse.
Leaning against the countertop, with my elbow resting on it, I nibble on a hot, fresh-baked pretzel while watching Nick as he plays with a coaster. He’s going on and on about how ice cream will never possess the same flavor it did as when he was a kid when abruptly he stops, leans in closer to me, and asks, “So, Peyton, if you had to eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?”
“Oh, that’s a tough one,” I put the last part of the pretzel in my mouth, licking the salt remains off my fingertips in a less-than-classy way.
“Let’s narrow it down, then. The fruit you would want to eat for the rest of your life?”
Without hesitation, I sigh and turn my body so we’re facing the same direction, “Strawberries.”
“Do you like them dipped in chocolate?”
Feeling my heart melt, I place both of my elbows back on the countertop and rock on my toes, filled with nervousness. “Love them that way.”
“Ever had it with champagne?” Seeing the shake of my head, he scoots over and leans in closer, “By candlelight, with soft music playing, staring into the eyes of someone you just want to press your lips against?”
My lips quiver for a response. Then someone clears his throat, breaking up the tension between us. We turn to see Justin, Aiden, and Belle coming into the house. Immediately, I scoot over and stand up straight.
“Interrupting?” Belle purrs curiously.
“More or less,” Nick smirks, licking his lips.
“Bathroom?” Justin asks, the color in his face draining.
“To your right,” Nick points to a small hallway past the wall of windows.
“Thanks,” he says, slowly backing in that direction.
Nick turns and places his back against the counter as Belle and Aiden join us. “So, which one of you brought Peyton?”
“That’d be me,” Belle raises a finger and attempts to smirk.
“Then, I have you to thank,” he takes her hand and plants a kiss on the back of it. “For I shall treat her like an angel
Similar Books
