A Risky Prospect, Chapter 17

“Please,” Esther says. “You and I would’ve never been friends if we weren’t roommates.”

“We are, though,” I remind her.

She snorts. “Sort of. You don’t tell me anything about yourself.”

“I could say the same for you.”

catch up A Risky Prospect, Chapter 1 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 2 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 3 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 4 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 5 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 6 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 7 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 8 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 9 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 10 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 11 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 12 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 13 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 14 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 15 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 16 Chapter 17Olivia

“I’ll drive,” I tell Esther, grabbing her car keys from the counter.

“Okay, alpha book boyfriend.” She holds her hand out to me for the keys.

“So you can spend time with your little sisters.” I smile, letting my eyes go soft.

“In that case,” she says, grabbing her hobo bag, “thank you.” She tugs down her denim shorts. They’re short and scored full of holes. The more time she spends with Donny, the more her wardrobe changes—in a totally hot way. When he came along, he unlocked something inside her, letting her free to come out and play. Her tee is a mural of roses, Belle, and Chip the teacup, but its cropped length makes it nerd sexy.

“The new look is working for you.” I slide my feet into wedges, relieved to not have to wear boots for once in the heat of New England spring.

I will never get used to riding around in full gear while the sun beats down on me.

I consider grabbing my cut, but I’d look out of place with that Prospect rocker in the middle of a park full of kids. Besides, I want to show off the orange and yellow floral scoop neck tee I picked up the other day. It’s probably more appropriate for fall, but fuck it. It’s cute, and it makes my eyes look more orange. I threw on white denim shorts to make it more summer-y, but whatever.

I left all the fashion police in high school.

I plunk one more kiss on Dio’s forehead, then Esther and I leave our Sunday nest. Unlocking the car, I pause for a moment before sliding into the driver’s seat, fiddling with my bag while she gets in on her side. When I’m positive she isn’t looking, I glance at the address in my phone one more time.

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