Filthy Foreign Exchange(17)

I’m surprised my parents can’t hear him screaming all the way inside the house and haven’t run out here by now.

“He made some lewd comments, basically being himself. But Kingston shut him up within about ten words.” I can’t help smiling with pride for my new housemate—and maybe a pinch of flattery for myself.

“Good. He’s gonna sleep in my bed, he’s gonna make bloody sure not a single person messes with you. Maybe I’ll call him too.”

I bite back my giggle. “Nope, you can’t even pull off their lingo when you’re mad. Sorry, bro.”

“Just you wait. I’ll have the accent nailed perfectly by the time I get home. Then I’ll be using it on all those American girls.”

“First off, you’re an American, so let’s try and remember that, okay? And the only girl you should be thinking about using anything on is Savannah.”

“Yeah, yeah. So you put Kingston in his place, like you always try to do with me?”

It doesn’t get past me how quickly he again changes the subject from Savannah, but I decide not to pry. That’s their business. I just want a conversation with my brother.

“What do you think?” My private grin is smug.

“I think if you haven’t already, he better prepare himself. Guess that’s something else I better let him know if I talk to him.”

I don’t bother wasting my breath arguing. If I tell Sebastian not to call him, it’ll just make him want to do it that much more.

“Do whatever you want. Just be safe, and call me to check in once in a while even if it’s only to say hi and let me know you’re alive. Can’t cost that much for a few minutes. Mom said she changed your plan.”

“I will.” His voice grows distant, as if he’s distracted, and a moment later I hear him speaking away from the phone to tell someone to hang for a second.

“Seb, it’s fine, I can let you go. I just missed you. I wanted to hear your voice, and make sure you didn’t forget us.” I close my eyes, wishing so badly that I could hug him right now. “I love you, Sebastian.

“Love you more, Echo. You swear to me you’re okay? How you been sleeping?”

“Good—through the night, as far as I know.”

“So the tea is helping? I bought more than enough, so drink it every night.”

“Seb, I got it. You won’t live with me the rest of our lives. I have to be okay handling it on my own, and I am.”

“Promise?” His skepticism weighs over the line. “Nothing you’re not saying? If you need me there, I’m as good as home. You know that.”

“I don’t ever lie to you, Sebastian. I’m fine. Promise me that you won’t worry.”

“I won’t if you’re telling me I don’t need to. If that changes, I better get a call. I mean it.”

I know he does, but I’d never do anything to screw up his time there. I’m a big girl, and plan to prove it.

“You will. Be good—don’t get into any bloody trouble.” I force out a small laugh.

“No promises on that one.” He chuckles. “Love you.”

“Love you more. Bye.”

I stare off into the distance after we hang up, replaying the call in my head. There was so much more I wanted to ask him: about Kingston’s father, what Kingston’s room is like, and why he seems unconcerned about Savannah. But then again, I’m glad I didn’t. I really just wanted to connect with my big brother, and that’s exactly what I did.

“Were you really proud of how I handled that Camden wanker?”

“Jesus!” I screech, dropping my phone before turning to face him. “You have to quit sneaking up on me. And eavesdropping? Not very gentlemanly. You’ll have to kiss at least fifty more hands now to re-convince me.”

Thankfully, my sass hides any disappointment I might have, and absolutely cannot entertain, in seeing he’s put his shirt back on.

“That really seems to bother you. Might you be jealous?” He raises a brow, waiting for my comeback.

I don’t know why he tries so hard to charm all those girls, since all he needs to do is flash them the smile he’s wearing now.

I pick up my phone—luckily for him, it’s not broken—and stand.

“Ha. Right. No, I’m just concerned for your health. Trust me, you don’t want to know where some of those tarts’ hands have been.”

“Mm-hmm,” he hums low in his chest as he sits down on the steps, in my previous spot. “How’s your brother getting on?”

I shrug. “Fine. Said he likes it over there.”

He nods. “I’m sure. Father can be quite hospitable when it serves him.”

I sit back down beside him. “And your mom?” I ask, very quietly, ashamed of my nosiness but unable to contain it.

“My mum died when I was young, Echo. You can lift your head—I don’t mind you asking. And frankly, I already miss that beautiful face of yours.”

“Do you miss her?” My words are measured, broken up by my nerves.

He shakes his head. “I don’t remember her to miss her. But people tell me she was a wonderful woman, so I often imagine what having her around might have been like. Does that make sense?”