Kiss the Sky (Calloway Sisters #1)(14)

“So then we’ll move back to Princeton.” Win for me. Fuck you, Scott.

She shakes her head slowly. “No, no…I’ll just have to deal with this. It’ll be okay.”

Fine. “Lo, Ryke, and I can set rat traps tomorrow.” But I add this just to rile her, “The perks of having three men living under one roof.”

Contempt crosses her face. “Lily, Daisy and I are more than capable of doing it.” But she breathes a little easier at the idea of three guys living here. It’s appealing to not be in control all the time. Well, for her, not me.

“By all means,” I say, “set them yourself. I fully appreciate female power.” I step nearer, closing the space between us. “But you’re going to have to put them in dusty, dirty…” I wrap my arm around her hip. “…places.” I slide my hand to her neck and my thumb brushes her lower lip.

She inhales again, remembering where I put my thumb three days ago.

Ben silently films us, but I sense his unwanted presence. My thumb lingers on her soft, wet lip. Fuck the camera.

I’m about to push my thumb into her mouth once more, but the front door bursts open.

She pushes off me almost instantly, retreating in her head, realizing who and what surrounds us. I wear my complacent expression, even if I’m highly fucking irritated at whoever ultimately barged through the door.

I see his blond hair first, and my irritation escalates to new volatile levels. I’m already an egotistical ass. I’m afraid I’m about to become the villain of this reality show.

Right now, I don’t particularly give a shit.

“Look, another rodent,” I say to Rose.

She smacks my chest, but she’s smiling.

Scott saunters inside like he owns the townhouse. I’m sure the lease is in his production company’s name. Next thing, he’ll try to stamp Van Wright all over my girlfriend.

“Where is everyone?” he asks, extending his arms. “The psychic will be here in five minutes.” I fixate on the duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

I don’t like assuming things, but if there are clothes, a toothbrush and a change of underwear in his bag—we’re going to have a major fucking problem.

Rose squeezes my arm.

I’m wearing my anger.

That happens—never.

“They’re all settling into their new bedrooms,” Rose tells him. She eyes the duffel. “Traveling somewhere, Scott? Hopefully to California where you’re actually needed.”

When he faces my girlfriend, he’s not pissed at her insult. No. He smiles. His gaze even lingers on her lips—the ones that I just touched. “I’m needed here,” he tells her. “It just takes people time to realize what’s good for them.” He gives Rose a long once-over, and my blood begins to boil. “Nice dress, but you could lower the neckline. Showing your tits would increase the ratings.”

“So would shoving my foot up your ass,” she retorts.

My lips rise.

So do Scott’s.

“Just trying to help,” he says smoothly. “I do have a question though. If your sisters are wearing your collection on screen, does this mean they’re going to be entering a nunnery too?”

She growls and tries to charge him.

I seize her around the waist, holding her back. I hate that he incenses her like this. That’s my fucking role.

My lips find her ear. “You’re giving him what he wants.”

“He’s insulting my line.”

It’s like calling her child stupid. I understand the blow. “Your clothes are perfect, Rose. They’re not as modest as he believes. Women will buy them.”

My words instantly calm her, and she relaxes against me. I hold her while Scott waves Ben towards us. And then I meet his gaze. “So,” I say, “you’re moving in.”

It’s a guess.

But it becomes fact as soon as he tosses the duffel bag onto the floor. “I am.”

Rose balks.

“What did production want this time?” I ask. “A misogynist? A natural blond?”

“A love triangle,” he deadpans.

Rose’s cheeks concave as if she’s attempting to suck in all the air from the room. She points her finger at Scott, the red nail polish threatening and incredibly sexy. “If you try to break up Lily and Loren, I will gut you from the inside out.”

No, Rose. He wants you.

His arousal practically swims in his eyes as he watches her tell him off. “I’m not here to break up anyone. I’ll be introduced in the show as your ex-boyfriend. We dated for a few years in college but decided to amicably break up when your fashion line absorbed all your time. I like my women to be…attentive. We’re still friends, despite your love to harass the shit out of me.”

I let go of Rose and take a step forward. “We haven’t formally met,” I say, holding out my hand. “I’m Connor Cobalt. The guy whose girlfriend you want to fuck. And just so you understand, the odds don’t look good for you.”

He shakes my hand, and I grip him so tight that he struggles to hide a wince. “You’re threatened by me,” he states, not breaking eye contact. “I’m twenty-eight, and you’re—”

I hate ages. “Twenty-four years smarter than you.” I tilt my head. “And in ten years I’ll be thirty-four years smarter than you. See how this works?”