The One Who Loves You (Tickled Pink #1)(85)

I cross my arms too. The hot and cold sensations battling through my body are giving way to something else.

Intoxication.

I could fall in love with this woman. I really could. “Dunno, Lightly. You might be getting the better end of the deal there.”

“I’m still furious with you.”

“But you respect the lengths I’ll go to for the sake of victory.”

She licks her lips. “I can do both.”

“Phoebe? Are you down there? What is all of this undignified shrieking?” Estelle turns the stairwell corner, and her eyes narrow. “Mr. Miller. Scaring my family with your half-naked physique? How unoriginal.”

Do not twitch, Miller. Do not twitch. “Yes, ma’am. I know. You did it first.”

Phoebe makes a strangled noise, then points at me again. “Out. I’ll deal with you tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

And there goes her eyebrow.

It shouldn’t make me smile, but it does.





Chapter 29


Phoebe


I have an algebra test this morning, Gigi’s called an emergency family meeting, and Elmo, my kitten, keeps trying to sneak into Carter’s bedroom, but are any of those things at the top of my worry list?

No.

No, they’re not.

Why?

Because Teague Miller is currently occupying the top forty-seven spots on my list.

I’m furious with him for the Tickled Pink Floyd ghost prank last night.

I’m also hella jealous that I didn’t think of it myself.

That was devious.

Devious on a level that rivals some of the things my family’s done. It’s beyond what I would’ve expected of anyone in Tickled Pink, and it’s making me realize just how little I know about Teague.

Yet I would still very much like for him to crawl through my window and service my cooch again tonight.

“What’s this about, and how long will it take?” Tavi asks as she sits down next to me at the cafeteria table. She’s carrying Pebbles and wearing sunglasses, and her entire posture is hunched like she’s battling some kind of bug.

“Look who finally decided to come home,” Carter says as he sits on my other side. “Up late servicing the plumber again?”

“Oh my God, could you be a little more crude? I’m not servicing the plumber.”

“He’s beneath you?” Carter asks.

I shove him. “She just said she’s not servicing the plumber. Of course he’s not beneath her.”

We stare at each other for half a second, and then I crack up.

Me.

Phoebe Sabrina Lightly.

Making a joke about my sister having sex and cracking up.

Oh my sweet Oprah, I think—

“I need to go home.”

That’s exactly what I was thinking, but those words did not come out of my mouth.

“No one’s leaving, Margot,” Gigi replies as she strolls in from the kitchen, her butler-boyfriend following with a tray laden with this morning’s monstrosity.

I can’t believe I’m actually grateful for real cafeteria food, but I am 100 percent stopping at the community college’s lunch counter for a yogurt parfait before class starts. Niles is growing on me, despite Gigi still not claiming him as anything more than her butler, but he has the cooking skills of a Lightly.

Which is to say, none at all.

“Yes, Estelle, I’m leaving,” my mother snaps.

I turn in my seat, and holy shit.

She’s packed.

All eleven suitcases.

And Tickled Pink Floyd is right behind her.

“Our ‘ghost’ is giving me a ride to the airport, and I’m going home.”

“Margot—”

“Shut up, Estelle. Phoebe, I’m sorry you have to find out like this, but your real father is a pool boy who used to service our grounds at our estate in the Adirondacks. I cheated on Michael. I cheated. And I’ve regretted it every minute of my life since, but I will not be held captive by this—this—this blackmail coming from this black-hearted and black-souled black widow of a venomous creature who likes to call herself your grandmother. But do you know what I realized after our ghost turned into a real man again last night, Phoebe? I realized I’m not related to her, and neither are you. You don’t have to take this abuse either. You’re not a Lightly by blood. She can’t hold you here. So come, darling. You can come home with me, and we can build ourselves a better life than the one this old hag is holding us to.”

I blink at her.

I hear her words.

I comprehend their meaning.

Except—“No.”

What is this?

How is this?

She’s not serious.

I’m a Lightly. I’m a Lightly. It’s who I am. It’s who I’ve always been.

But—

“Margot,” Gigi hisses.

“No, Estelle. I am done letting you run my life and my children’s lives. They deserve better. Phoebe. Octavia. Carter. Let’s go.”

I look at my father.

He’s head down over a newspaper like this isn’t new information.

Like he doesn’t care.

“Mom?” I whisper.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she whispers back. “I should’ve taken you and run as soon as I realized that witch knew my secret. I’m so sorry.”