Chapter 3

I pause on the stairs when I hear Kate’s bedroom door open. Emilia walks out looking like she’s on a mission and Kate follows her with a worried expression. I grin when I see the bottle of Nair in her hands. She’s getting cleverer and more ruthless. The stakes in our game keep getting higher. Very well, I’ve gotta hand it to her. This is a good one. I bet she’s still mad as hell that I stopped Zach from flirting with her last week. She’s been trying to ignore me all week now — I wonder how long it’ll take her to get over it. She’s too young to be going to parties like Zach’s and it’s obvious what he wanted from her. No way was I gonna let that happen on my watch. I might mess with her, but when it comes down to it, I’ll always protect her the way I protect Kate.

I should’ve tried to appease her this week and I definitely should’ve been nicer to her when she got home today instead of eating her ice cream, but I couldn’t help myself. That flustered and angry look on her face just makes my day.

Kate is meant to stand watch in front of my room, but all she does is stare at her phone. I could walk right up to her and she wouldn’t even notice.

Eventually Emilia emerges from my room with a triumphant look on her face. She looks so damn pleased with herself. She’s smiling, and her stunning blue eyes are twinkling with mischief.

I grin to myself and take a few steps back before walking up the stairs, making as much noise as I can. Both of them gasp and hurry back into Kate’s room, the door closing just as I make it to the top.

I smile and walk into my room. The perfume I gave Emilia for her last birthday is all over my room, betraying her presence. She claimed she hated the smell, but she wears it every day. I chuckle to myself and shake my head. How she thinks she gets away with these things is beyond me. There are always traces of her.

I strip and walk into my bathroom, scanning the bottles in the shower. She’s done a meticulous job. Not a single thing is out of place. I stand underneath the stream for a few minutes and lean back against the wall. What expression will she have on her face if I walk out of here with clumps of my hair missing? I’m filled with excitement and anticipation. She’s vicious, that’s for sure.

I smile and grab the shampoo bottle, lathering my hair with the Nair-laced concoction. I leave it in for a couple of minutes for good measure. I’m not surprised when chunks of my hair fall out when I rinse the shampoo off. I bite back a smile and shake my head. She really did it, huh?

I turn the shower off and step out to get dressed. I take one look in the mirror and burst out laughing. I look fucking ridiculous. I throw on some shorts and a tee before storming down, my angry game face on. I’ve learned to school my amused expressions for our feud long ago. I hear the front door slam closed just as I reach the bottom of the stairs and bite back a grin. Dad just got home. Perfect.

I storm into the living room, and my parents look at me with wide eyes when I enter. My hair wasn’t very long to begin with, but now there are huge chunks just straight up missing. Everyone’s eyes move to Emilia. No one feels the need to point out the obvious. We all know she’s the culprit. I wonder if Mom will finally let her have it this time. If I did this to Emilia, I’d be grounded for the rest of my damn life.

Emilia looks at me, but instead of the satisfaction and victory I expected to see, her eyes are filled with horror and remorse. It’s not a look I like on her. Through all the shit we’ve pulled on each other, she’s never once looked remorseful, and I’ve never wanted her to.

My dad clears his throat. “That’s something, huh? How did that even happen?” he asks. Kate and I both inherited my dad’s eyes — the same eyes that are currently sparkling with amusement when he should be outraged on my behalf. Dad rubs his neck and tries to look stern, but I can see him trying to suppress a smile. Trust him to find this shit funny.

My mother looks at Dad through narrowed eyes. “William,” she says, her tone disapproving. Dad shrugs. It’s obvious he finds this funny as hell, and I don’t think Mom appreciates how hard he finds it to hide his glee.

Mom ignores Dad and instead looks at Emilia with disapproval, and though I’ve achieved what I wanted to, I find that I don’t feel pleased at all. “Emilia, sweetie… What did you do?” my mother asks, her voice stern. Emilia looks up at her and I see the panic building in her eyes. I can tell my mother’s disappointment hits her hard and I hate it. She trembles as her eyes fill with tears, and my heart starts to ache at the sight of her.

“You,” I say, interrupting the scolding my mother is about to give her. “Come here.”

Emilia jumps out of her seat and takes a step back, but I keep stalking towards her. “Shit. I’m sorry, Carter!” she yells.

I shake my head and point at my hair. “I’ll make you pay for this.”

She dashes into the hallway in an attempt to escape to her own house, but I won’t let her. I chase her and she looks at me with wide eyes as she tries to evade me. I chuckle as I lift her into my arms and right over my shoulder. She squeals and fights me, but I hold her down and turn back towards the stairs.

I carry her up the stairs with ease. I’m tempted to slap her ass for thrashing so wildly, but I know she’ll kill me if I so much as try. I walk into my bedroom and throw her onto my bed. She sits up, undoubtedly ready to argue with me, but I lift my arms and pull my shirt up and over my head. Emilia freezes and falls silent, her eyes glued to my abs, courtesy of hours and hours of football practice. She blinks as though she’s startled, and I grin when she fails to snap out of it. If I’d known that all it takes to get her to shut up was walking around half naked, I’d have started doing it ages ago.

“You’re gonna fix this,” I say, pointing to my hair. I walk into my bathroom and walk back out with an electric shaver. She takes it with trembling hands and I take hold of her chin, pinching it slightly.

“Mess around with me and it’s your hair that’s next. You’d better fix this, Minx,” I say, addressing her by the nickname I gave her years ago, back when I first learned the definition of the word in English class. She used to hate it, and in retaliation she started to call me Devil — the worst thing she could think of at the time. Little does she know that I hardly find it an insult.

Emilia glances at the mess that is my hair and the edges of her lips rise, as though she suddenly realizes how hilarious I look. My relief is instant. I fucking hate seeing her upset. If I’d known my mom would’ve been disappointed with her then I would’ve just thrown the whole damn shampoo bottle out. Mom never really interferes much, and I thought this would be the same. I guess I look pretty damn ridiculous though. In hindsight, it’d be more surprising if she did let this go.

“Yes, okay,” Emilia whispers. I turn around and kneel down in front of her while she rises to her knees on my bed. She shaves my hair carefully. Part of me was worried about putting a razor in her hands, but it seems my worry was groundless. She rests her hands on my shoulder and cups my neck as she works on me. I exhale in relief when she’s done and pull away from her. When she’s this close to me, it feels like I’m suffocating.

Emilia looks at me and I’m surprised when I see a brief flash of attraction in her eyes, followed by annoyance. I smile to myself. I don’t have to look in the mirror to know my new hairdo suits me just fine. Her face tells me everything I need to know.