Four Of A Kind - Chapter 193: [4.11] The Sunshine and the Storm

Chapter 193: [4.11] The Sunshine and the Storm

“I still don’t get it,” Cassidy groaned, dropping her head onto the open textbook. “These formulas might as well be ancient hieroglyphs.”

“You’re overthinking it.” I tapped the graph paper where she’d been working. “Just plug the numbers into the formula.”

She lifted her head and fixed me with a death glare. “Easy for you to say. Your brain doesn’t scramble the numbers.”

“Fair enough.”

We’d been at it for almost an hour. Her face had the pinched look it always got when math pushed her to her limit. Time for a break before she snapped that pencil in half—or stabbed me with it.

“Let’s pause here. Ten minute breather.”

Cassidy’s eyebrows shot up. “Giving up on me already?”

“Not giving up. Regrouping.” I stood and stretched. “Besides, I should check on Iris.”

“Sure, run away to my baby sister.” She leaned back in her chair, twirling her pencil between her fingers. “Just remember our bet. When I lose this test—which I absolutely will—you get me for twenty-four hours.”

“That’s not how—”

“And I’ll do anything you want.” She dragged the word “anything” out like melted caramel, sweet and sticky. “Wear whatever you want. Say whatever you want.”

The mental image hit me like a freight train. Cassidy Valentine, the wildest of the four sisters, doing whatever I asked for a full day.

“That’s not why we made the bet.”

“No? Then why did you suggest I get a collar?”

Heat crawled up my neck. “I didn’t—”

“You said, and I quote, ’You should probably think about what color collar goes with your hair. Just in case.’” She mimicked my voice with eerie accuracy. “Remember that?”

I did remember. Too well.

“I was joking.”

“Were you though?” She stood, moving around the table toward me. “Because I’ve been thinking about it. Black leather would look good against my skin, don’t you think?”

Jesus Christ. Was she trying to kill me?

“I’m going to check on Iris,” I repeated, backing toward the door. “Ten minutes.”

Her laughter followed me into the hallway. “Run all you want, tutor man. You can’t hide forever!”

I escaped down the corridor, my heart hammering against my ribs. That girl was dangerous. Not just because of what she said, but because some dark part of me wanted exactly what she was offering.

I needed air. And space. And maybe an ice bath.

The sounds of giggling led me to Harlow’s room. The door stood half-open, and I could see Iris sitting cross-legged on the plush carpet while Harlow fussed with something pink and frilly on the bed.

I knocked on the doorframe. “Everything okay in here?”

Iris’s head whipped around, her face lighting up. “Zay! Perfect timing! We need your opinion.”

“On what?”

“On whether I should be Sailor Moon or Cardcaptor Sakura for the convention!”

I blinked. “The what now?”

“The anime convention! It’s next month in the city and Harlow says she’ll take me and help me make a costume and everything!”

Harlow bounced up from the bed, her wine-red hair bobbing in space buns with pink ribbons threaded through them. “I already asked Vivienne if it was okay! She said as long as we have security it’s fine.”

I looked between their eager faces. “And you’re asking my permission?”

“Duh,” Iris rolled her eyes. “You’re my guardian, remember? Even if you act like my annoying older brother most of the time.”

“You need my permission to attend a nerd convention with the Valentine heiress and her security team?”

Iris nodded solemnly.

“Let me think about—yes. Obviously yes.”

She squealed and launched herself at me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

I ruffled her hair. “No problem, kiddo.”

Harlow clapped her hands together. “This is going to be so fun! And now that you’re here, we need your help with something else.”

Warning bells clanged in my head. “What kind of help?”

“We need someone to judge our costumes!” Harlow said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve been teaching Iris how to pose, but we need an audience.”

“Can’t you just take pictures?”

“Not the same,” Harlow insisted. “We need live feedback.”

I glanced at my watch. I had eight minutes before I needed to get back to Cassidy. “Fine. Quick fashion show. Go.”

Iris grinned and grabbed a bundle of fabric from the bed. “I’ll go first! Be right back.”

She disappeared into Harlow’s massive walk-in closet, leaving me alone with the second-youngest Valentine sister.

Harlow fidgeted with the hem of her oversized sweater. “Thanks for letting her come to the convention. She’s really excited.”

“I can tell.” I leaned against the doorframe. “She doesn’t get to do normal kid stuff very often.”

“Because of your mom?”

The question caught me off guard. Harlow wasn’t usually so direct.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “Among other things.”

“I’m sorry.”

She said it simply, without the usual pity that made me want to punch walls. Just a straight acknowledgment of a shitty situation.

“Thanks.”

An awkward silence fell between us. I searched for something to say, but Harlow beat me to it.

“Are you okay? After last night and this morning?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not, but that’s okay.” She stepped closer, her purple eyes searching my face. “Can I hug you?”

“What?”

“You look like you need a hug. And I give the best hugs. Everyone says so.”

Before I could respond, she wrapped her arms around my waist and pressed herself against me, her head tucked under my chin. Her body was soft and warm, fitting against mine like she belonged there.

I stood frozen for a second, then cautiously returned the embrace. She made a happy little sound and squeezed tighter.

“See? Best hugs.”

She wasn’t wrong. It felt… nice. Comfortable in a way human contact rarely did for me.

“Why do you like hugs so much?”

She pulled back slightly, looking up at me. “I like hearing people’s hearts. It’s comforting. Like proof that we’re all alive and connected.”

She pressed her ear against my chest, right over my heart. “Yours beats really fast when I’m close.”