Page 5 of Sinful Storms

My dad laughed, and my mum tutted, immediately changing the subject.

“Aria, dear, I took the liberty of ordering you the eggs Florentine.”

Aria grimaced, although she quickly covered it up. How did my mother not know by now that Aria hated eggs Florentine? Eggs anything with hollandaise sauce on. Me, I could drink that shit…okay, that might be an exaggeration. The point was, I liked it, but Aria never had.

I distinctly remember the first time she’d tried it. Our chef, Lawrence, had spent the morning whipping up an elaborate brunch to welcome her to our home that first summer when hergrandmother had been in hospital with pneumonia. She’d piled her plate high with pretty much everything on the table, and I’d been sitting there, staring at her with wide eyes and thinking there was no way my tiny little godsister was going to be able to put away all that food. She caught me staring at her plate and smirked at me, and I grinned back, watching as she brought a giant forkful of eggs drenched in hollandaise to her mouth…and promptly spat them out. All over her plate and the table.

It had been fucking funny, and my parents had been nice about it, but I’d heard them discussing Aria’s unrefined palate when she’d left the room to get cleaned up. At the time, I wasn’t really aware of what they were saying, but as I grew older and more aware and I remembered that conversation, it grated on me. So fucking what if she didn’t have a private chef and lived in a house rather than a mansion? She was rich enough to attend a private prep school, and my mother and father had obviously been close enough with her parents for them to become her godparents.

“I don’t know about anyone else, but I can’t wait for the food to get here. I need extra energy for lacrosse and the celebrations when we win. Got to carb load for the game and then all the hours of dancing with my admirers.” Ignoring Aria’s rude muttering, I sighed. “Heavy is the head that wears a crown.”

“You’re so fucking arrogant,” Aria hissed under her breath.

“That’s right, son. Taking after your father and your grandfather before him.” My dad smiled.

“Is it arrogance if it’s the truth?” I murmured to Aria, just to make her glare at me, before raising my voice. “I have an actual crown now, remember. Aria does, too.”

Aria’s glare intensified, and I quickly hid my smirk behind my napkin. My parents exchanged glances, and then my mother reached across the table and patted Aria’s hand, pity written all over her face. “We’re very proud of you for throwing your hatinto the ring, so to speak, alongside the founding families. To be crowned as a goddess at the Hatherley Hall annual ball…to have all your peers vote for you…well, it’s one of the highest honours, and you achieved it, despite your family situation.”

“Thank you.” Aria’s voice was small, her body stiff and closed off. Remorse instantly filled me. Fuck. Why had I opened my mouth?

Thank fuck the food arrived, and as Aria stared down at her plate, her mouth set in a flat line, I carried out the plan I’d made before she’d arrived, right around the time my dad had been flirting with the waitress who was taking our brunch orders.

I reached for my orange juice and jerked my hand, sending the glass flying, bright orange liquid spilling all over Aria’s eggs Florentine—and a little bit on Aria herself, not that it could be helped.

My parents were too well-bred to outwardly react, although I caught my mother’s sudden gasp and my father’s harsh exhale. Aria, though…she stared down at her plate with wide eyes before her gaze dropped to her dress, the pale pink now marred with darker patches.

“Okay,” she said, her voice flat. Lifting her napkin, she dabbed at the damp areas on the fabric but quickly gave it up as a lost cause. Just as quickly, her eyes narrowed, and even though she didn’t look directly at me, I caught the savage vibes she was broadcasting.

“My apologies, Aria. It was an accident,” I said because my parents would expect an apology. “I guess it’s a good thing I was feeling hungry. You can have my avocado toast.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” she ground out.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t really need all this food so early in the day.” I patted my abs. “Don’t wanna ruin this body.”

Aria remained silent as my mother clicked her fingers for a staff member to clear her ruined breakfast, not even reactingas I slid my extra plate in front of her. Fucking stubborn little scorpion. Whatever. She could eat it, or not. It was no big deal to me. I had my own full plate of food, piled with all my favourite breakfast items.

As I was digging in, my parents brought up the ball again, and I stifled a groan. Didn’t we have anything better to talk about than something that had already happened? Okay, yes, supposedly, it was the pinnacle of the school year. And as the elite of the elite—the head boy, the most popular person in our boarding school—it should have been the pinnacle of my year, too.

Don’t get me wrong, I fucking loved the recognition. To be crowned as one of the three gods on the night was an honour. We had crowns fashioned in the shape of laurel wreaths, made from real gold, and there was a whole over-the-top crowning ceremony for the winners. Yet this year, my concerns had been elsewhere, with all the shit that had been happening behind the scenes with one of my two best friends and his girlfriend.

It was a night we all wanted to forget. Especially one certain moment that unfortunately lived rent-free in my head. The first dance for the crowned gods and goddesses. I’d had to dance with Aria, and despite the daggers she kept shooting at me from her eyes, having her hot little body in my arms had been an exercise in restraint. An exercise I hoped my dick would never have to deal with again. It came to my mind far too frequently, and every time I forced myself to think about something else, it would appear again. Usually when I was giving myself some self-love in the shower.

My jaw tightened. Fuck her for getting in my head.

Okay, new plan. It was time to remind myself for the hundredth time of what Aria Harper really meant to me. She was just an exceptionally hot and extremely fucking irritating fellow student who happened to be loosely connected to me viamy parents. Once our exams were over, we’d move on with our lives and I wouldn’t have to suffer through these inconvenient thoughts anymore.

Glancing over at her, finally eating the avocado toast I’d ordered for her, I cleared my throat and addressed my parents. “Aria and I have been working together on a global governance project. She’s very studious, you know.” Hopefully, the change of subject would derail all talk of the ball, and my mood would improve, remembering how much fun it had been to piss her off by sitting next to her in our politics class.

“How wonderful!” My mother placed her hand over her heart. “It’s lovely to see you working together.” She cleared her throat, and I was instantly on alert. “In an appropriate way.”

“What do you mean by that?” I bit out, only realising my aggression when both my parents recoiled. “I mean, appropriate, how?” I asked more calmly, watching as they relaxed.

Eventually, my mother elaborated. “Well, dear, it’s just that Aria is your godsister. It was a little inappropriate for the two of you to dance together at the ball, wasn’t it?”

Not the fucking dance again. Was I ever going to be allowed to forget that?

“Okay. One. Neither of us asked for that. Two. No one thought I’d be crowned as one of the goddesses,” Aria said. When I glanced at her, I could see her gritting her teeth. I kept quiet because, honestly, anything else I said would only make things worse. The fact that my parents were her godparents was irrelevant in my eyes. We weren’t related or even step-siblings. They needed to calm the fuck down.

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