Page 63 of Striking
Lennon
Oh whatever, you knobhead.
Rhys
My reign. My rules. I’ll kiss my wife whenever I want. Let them take pictures. They need to get used to it. It might have been the first time, but it won’t be the last.
Lennon
I still can’t believe you hid her from me!
Rhys You had enough on your plate, Lennon. I wasn’t about to ask you to lie for me too.
Lennon
Oh, whatever. I’ll let it slide this time because you kissed her!
Atticus
It’s a Christmas miracle.
Rhys
Are you both done making fun of me now?
Lennon
Nope.
Atticus
Never.
BELLAMY
And if when it’s all over and I’m asked what I’ve done with my life,
I want to say I lived.
—Bellamy’s Secret Thoughts
“Ilove you, Mom. Kiss everyone for me.”
“I will, sweet girl. I love you too.”
I press my hand against my computer screen as if I can feel her touch before we disconnect the call.
“You okay, queen bee?” I look up to find Atticus standing on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall. He looks like he just got in from meetings, but there’s no sign of Rhys. “You look like someone just stole your coffee.”
“No. Just missing home,” I murmur and close my laptop. “I’ve never missed a Christmas with my mom before. Either I’d go up to Maine, or she’d come down to Kroydon Hills. It’s just made me a little homesick, I guess.”
Atticus doesn’t look convinced as he crosses the room and grabs my hand, then pulls me to my feet.
“What are you doing?” I try to tug my hand free, but he doesn’t let go. “I’m in my pajamas, Atticus...”
My new honorary big brother drags me behind him through the palace, not giving a single care that I’m in red and white flannel boxer shorts that are short enough I thought Rhys might like them but had no intention of anyone else seeing them. Or that my red tank is tight and barely covers my boobs.
I manage to grab a white cable-knit throw from the back of the couch and wrap it around my shoulders before he pulls me into the halls of the palace. “Where are we going?”
