The Secret Girl by C. M. Stunich

Author:C. M. Stunich [Stunich, C. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sarian Royal
Published: 2019-05-24T04:00:00+00:00

The ocean puts me to sleep, and the sunrise wakes me up at an ungodly hour. I climb out of the huge bed (it's actually way bigger than a king, definitely a non-standard size), and I take out the new dress the twins bought me, slipping it on and brushing out my hair. Before I head downstairs, I take my contacts out—sleeping in contacts is not good, not good at all—and slip on my glasses.

I'm so freaking thirsty, I'm not even nervous about being in the McCarthy mansion. I will wander around until I find something to drink, damn it.

There are people sleeping off their drunk everywhere, on the floor and the couches. It takes me a bit of meandering, but eventually I make it to the kitchen and find Micah shirtless and eating cereal from a giant silver mixing bowl.

“Oh come on, Toby,” the girl on the counter whines, reaching out to fiddle with his hair. He ignores her, leaning his hip against the kitchen island and watching me as I walk into the room. Why the fuck is she calling him Toby? First off, that's not Tobias, that's Micah. There's not even a split-second of doubt in me when I meet his eyes.

He flashes me a naughty smile, and then licks the milk from his lips. Yep, definitely Micah.

The girl turns to look at me, pushing back green-streaked dark hair as she narrows her eyes like I'm the enemy. I will never understand that mentality, girls pitting themselves against each other. Pretty sure she thinks I've come to steal him away.

Funny that, considering I’m damn near positive he’s just going to do whatever the hell he wants anyway. Neither she nor I have any control over that.

“Good morning, Chuck,” he says, snapping the ck sound off with a sharp smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“Actually, I slept great.” I slide onto the stool next to him, and he pushes over the milk and box of cereal. There’s a stack of clean bowls, and a pile of spoons next to them. Most of them don’t look made for cereal. In fact, one of them looks like a pie pan, but that’s okay. I’ll take it. “Somehow the sound of the ocean makes everything seem … better.”

“Mm.” Micah doesn’t respond, shoveling more cereal into his big, stupid mouth while the girl watches us.

“Toby,” she pleads again, trying to snag his attention. Something about her tone just bothers me, and I turn around to glare at her.

“This is Micah, not Tobias.” I can see Micah’s eyes widen at that statement, and I spin back around to pour my cereal.

“Are you stupid?” she snaps, and Micah’s gaze narrows in irritation. “Don’t you think I know who I’m talking to?”

“Clearly not,” I reply with a shrug, filling the bowl with milk and taking a bite of the chocolate coated flakes. It’s more dessert than breakfast really—my favorite. “This is Micah.”

“Tell her,” the girl spits, but I don’t bother to turn around and look at her again.

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