Page 66 of The Devils They Are
Standing up, I tower over my twin, glancing down at the freshly dyed hair. She did mine on the weekend too, putting a new silver toner through it. Though I think that was just to draw my attention away from the fact that she stained my favorite towel. Yes—favorite towel. Everyone has one. And don't think I didn't notice, Sophia Louise Beckett.
"Soph," I warn with a hardened expression. "Don't drop the M word at me. Besides, what are you doing hanging around with Cedar trash?"
"Trash?" she laughs dryly. "You three are miserable ball sacks. Seriously, do you know how embarrassing it is watching how the Willowbrook students act at school? Since when do you care about shit like that at school? The Cedar students haven't even done anything."
I raise an eyebrow. "You don't know the full story, sis. Bexley isn't as innocent as she seems. Don't be fooled by her attitude and charm."
There's nowhere to go when she steps into me, hair tickling my nose as she flicks me in the forehead with her fingers.
"Ow!"
"Idiot."
Soph spins around and heads toward the door, shoving her middle finger into the air. "I like Bexley, Tai. And now she probably thinks I'm just like you."
"You have plenty of friends at Willowbrook. You don't need her approval," I call out, making me pause in the doorway.
She turns, glaring at me. "Do you know how nice it is hanging with someone who doesn't give a shit about their nails or reality TV? Someone who doesn't judge me for running like a D-list actor in a horror movie. If you involve me again, I'll tell Mary."
"Oh, come on," I groan. "Leave Mary out of it."
Soph knows she has hit a sore spot. I couldn't care less what our father thinks about me, but Mary? She thinks I radiate sunlight and lollipops. But she's also not afraid to scold me if she finds out I've been up to no good.
"Leave me out of your scheming or next time I'm turning your hair bright orange like the clown you are, asshole."
"Since when do you want a running buddy?" I groan, barely able to keep up with Ry as we run along the pathway.
When Ry asked me to meet up for an afternoon jog, I assumed that was code for beers or something—not actual running. What the fuck?
I can't give Soph shit for running like a drunk baby deer, because my workouts are strictly contained to weights. But right now, it's near embarrassing how little stamina I have compared to Ry, especially when he chose the scenic route.
Thankfully, we're just running the public track near the edge of the mountains, not up the path that weaves through the caves to the canyon. They would be carrying my carcass back down in a body bag if that was the case.
"Needed to talk," he replies, not out of breath at all. Psycho.
"We won't get much talking done if we're running," I wheeze back, relieved when he stops.
Rylan turns, shoving his hands into his gym shorts. "Fine. Happy?"
"Much better," I grumble, hunching over. "What is this about? Besides torturing me for your gratification."
"I fast-tracked the warehouse renovations," he says, smirking at my hunched frame.
Rolling my eyes, I straighten up. "This could have been an email or text message. Besides, why tell me and not Hunter too? He should be here for the torture-fest."
"Hunter won't like what I have to say."
I cock an eyebrow, amused. "To be fair, we kind of anticipated that she'd get the better of you with negotiations."
Rylan scowls at me. "That's not what I meant. And she didn't. We came to a mutual understanding."
"Meaning, your dick got the better of you," I laugh, freezing when his eyes widen slightly. "Wait—please tell me you didn't."
Silence falls between us, and I narrow my eyes, expecting the, "Ha! Got you." But it doesn't come.
… But Rylan did.
"Please tell me you didn't sleep with Spencer," I grimace. "I knew you were getting friendly, but come on, man—that's crossing the line."
