Peyton Church is a city girl by anyone's standards. Born and raised in New York City, she grew up wanting for nothing. She attended the most prestigious preparatory schools, shopped on Fifth Avenue, dined with the rich and famous and was adored by...
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IF SOMEONE TOLD me when all of this first started that a month later I would be here— walking into my house, hand in hand with Hunter Maddox, a big smile on my face as I laugh at something he says— I wouldn't have believed them. I would've laughed in their face, called them delusional, and continued on with my brooding.
Yet here we are.
Hunter is telling me about one of the various fights he's gotten into with Cameron. The tall, dark demon had managed to sashay his way out of getting a good smack in the head last night by literally dancing around the living room while Hunter chased after him. It was comical to say the least, especially when Eliza had shot her foot out and sent him flailing face first into the solid wood coffee table.
"Peyton?" My mother's voice calls from the kitchen.
I roll my eyes. "No, Mom, it's your other daughter."
Her disembodied voice grows louder, until her head pops through the doorway. "I would know that sarcasm anywhere, sweetheart. But good try. Hello, Hunter."
Hunter waves his hand in my mother's direction and puts on his most charming smile. "Evening, Ms. Mantalos."
"Please, Hunter, call me Helen," my mom grins.
The two of them continue like that, perfectly polite and very small-town-like. I may have admitted my feelings for Hunter, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with him sweet talking his way into my mother's good graces by acting like the perfect gentleman he isn't. It's just too weird, and by the time this meal is finished, she'll likely be on the phone with my grandmother, planning our wedding.
"Anyways, Mother," I interrupt, grabbing Hunter's arm and putting some distance between the two, "We'll be upstairs while you burn the kitchen down. See you when the smoke detectors go off!"
Without waiting for her response, I pull Hunter along behind me up the stairs. He chuckles, not putting up much of a fight. I drag him down the hall to my bedroom, kicking Jayden's closed door as we pass.
We're in my room before my nuisance of a brother starts shouting profanities after me.
"We haven't been here five minutes, and you've already got me in your bedroom," Hunter comments, smirking at me. "Maybe you should make out with my best friend more often."
I shoot him a look.
"That was a joke," he clarifies.
"Oh, I know," I shrug. "He wasn't that good of a kisser anyways."
The blue-eyed glare I receive is priceless, and I can't stop myself from falling onto my bedspread laughing. My laughter soon turns to shrieks as a heavy teenage boy falls down on top of my, pinning me underneath him. I shove at his chest playfully, not putting much effort into throwing him off of me.
