Four Of A Kind - Chapter 194: [4.12] The MK Protocol

Chapter 194: [4.12] The MK Protocol

“That’s because you’re invading my personal space.”

She giggled. “You like it though.”

“You’re very confident about that.”

“I’m right, aren’t I?” She pulled back, her smile warm enough to melt steel.

I was saved from answering by Iris bursting out of the closet in a sailor uniform with a ridiculously short skirt and a blonde wig.

“Ta-da! Sailor Moon, reporting for duty!”

I crossed my arms, pretending to judge critically. “Hmm. Turn around.”

Iris spun in a circle, the skirt flaring out. Thank goodness she had shorts under.

“Not bad,” I nodded. “Though I don’t know why all these magical girls fight evil in miniskirts. Seems impractical.”

“It’s fashion, Zay. You wouldn’t understand.” Iris struck a pose with her hand on her hip. “Rate me on a scale of one to ten.”

“Strong eight.”

“Only an eight?!” She looked outraged.

“Nine if you actually learn the transformation speech.”

“Deal.” She grinned. “Your turn, Harlow!”

Harlow grabbed a bundle of clothes from her bed. “Be right back! This one’s special.”

She winked at me before disappearing into her closet. Something about that wink made me nervous.

“What’s she dressing as?” I asked Iris.

“No idea. But she was giggling a lot when she picked it out, so…” Iris shrugged. “Probably something cute. Harlow loves cute things.”

Five minutes later, I was seriously rethinking my decision to judge this fashion show.

Harlow emerged from her closet in what could only be described as the skimpiest school uniform I’d ever seen. The white top was cropped to show her midriff, with the first three buttons undone to reveal dangerous amounts of cleavage. The plaid skirt barely covered anything, and thigh-high stockings with little bows emphasized her long legs. She’d let her hair down from the space buns, and it fell in soft waves around her shoulders.

“What do you think?” she asked, twirling in a slow circle. “I’m Marin from My Dress-Up Darling!”

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

“Is that even a real costume?” I finally managed.

“Of course it is!” She pouted.

“It’s definitely… accurate,” Iris nodded. “The manga was pretty ecchi.”

“The what was pretty what now?”

“Ecchi. You know, sexy but not hentai,” Iris explained, like this was normal conversation. “It’s a whole genre.”

“And you know this how?”

“I read manga, Zay. I’m fourteen, not four.”

Harlow giggled, apparently enjoying my discomfort. “Do I get a rating? Or did I break Assistant-kun?”

I cleared my throat. “You look… nice.”

“Nice?” Her pout deepened. “That’s all I get?”

“Fine. Ten out of ten. Very authentic. Can you please put some clothes on now?”

She laughed, a bright sound that filled the room. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“I’m not flustered. I’m concerned about appropriate attire for someone your age.”

“I’m seventeen, not seven,” she mimicked Iris’s earlier tone. “Besides, it’s just cosplay. It’s not like I’d wear this to school.”

She stepped closer, and I instinctively backed up until my shoulders hit the doorframe.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” she asked, her voice softer. “I can change if it really bothers you.”

The fact that she asked—that she cared about my comfort despite her teasing—made something in my chest twist.

“It’s fine,” I said, not entirely truthfully. “Just caught me off guard.”

She brightened immediately. “So I look good?”

“You know you do.”

“I want to hear you say it,” she insisted.

I sighed. “You look great, Harlow. Truly.”

“Yay!” She threw her arms around me again, pressing her barely-covered body against mine. “Hug for positive reinforcement!”

I kept my hands firmly on her upper back, acutely aware of how little fabric separated us. Her hair smelled like strawberries and something floral, sweet and intoxicating.

“Um, I’m still here, you know,” Iris said dryly. “In case you forgot.”

Harlow giggled and released me, but not before whispering, “Your heart’s beating even faster now.”

I checked my watch, grateful for the excuse. “I should get back to Cassidy. Break’s over.”

“Boo, you’re no fun,” Harlow pouted. “We didn’t even get to the best part!”

“Which is?”

“You were supposed to cosplay too!”

I laughed. “Not happening.”

“Please?” She batted her eyelashes at me. “I have the perfect Gojo cosplay for you! You already have the hair!”

“Hard pass.”

“What if I do the puppy eyes?” She demonstrated, her purple eyes widening pathetically.

“Still no.”

“What if—”

“Nope. I’m leaving now.” I turned to Iris. “Don’t let her talk you into anything inappropriate.”

“Too late,” Iris grinned. “I’ve already agreed to be her Komi-san for the group cosplay.”

“I don’t know what that means and I don’t want to.”

I escaped into the hallway, Harlow’s laughter and promises of “next time” following me out.

My phone buzzed with a text from Cassidy: Break’s over, tutor boy. Where are you?

I texted back: On my way. Got ambushed by cosplayers.

Her response came immediately: Harlow got you in cat ears, didn’t she?

Tried and failed.

She’ll wear you down eventually. She always does.

I smiled despite myself. Not happening.

Three dots appeared as she typed, then: Speaking of things that ARE happening… our bet. I’ve been making plans.

My stomach did a weird flip. Plans for what?

For when I lose and become your pet for 24 hours. I’m thinking spike collar, maybe a leash…

Jesus Christ.

I have to tutor you now. Stop texting inappropriate things.

Make me, tutor man. Or should I say… Master? 😉

I shoved my phone in my pocket and took a deep breath. These Valentine sisters were going to be the death of me. Harlow with her barely-there cosplay and warm hugs. Cassidy with her collar talk and promises of submission.

And I still had two more sisters to get through today.

I headed back to the library, trying to focus on quadratic equations instead of plaid skirts and leather collars. It wasn’t working.

When I reached the library doors, I paused with my hand on the handle. Cassidy was waiting on the other side, ready to torment me with more talk of our bet. Part of me wanted to run back to Philadelphia right now, to escape the complication and temptation of this house.

But a larger part—the part I didn’t want to examine too closely—was curious to see what would happen if I stayed.

I pushed open the door.

Cassidy sat on the table itself, legs swinging, phone in hand. She looked up when I entered, a slow smile spreading across her face.

“Well hello, Master. Ready to teach me some math?”