He lifts his head, his eyes boring into mine. “You haven’t,” he says finally. “You still wear your hair the same, ribbon and all…”
3
Addie
My life is a series of reckless decisions, and agreeing to come here for the summer might be my most reckless one of all. That, and the fact I failed to ask questions when my brother told me he worked retail and his boss had a job for me.
Maybe I interpreted it wrong, but what he could’ve said is that he works construction, currently building aretailspace, and that his boss is Tom Preston.
Preston, as in the owners of the property I’d broken into last night.
Great.
Now I’m here, sitting in the passenger’s seat of Roman’s truck in front of a small cabinonthe sprawling Preston property, waiting for—“Who exactly are we waiting for?” I ask, turning to him.
“Logan.”
“Logan… who?”
“Preston.”
Of course.If my memory serves me correctly, all the Preston kids haveLnames. It’s as ridiculous as it is confusing, but who am I to judge?
“He’s my boss,” Roman adds.
“I thought Tom Preston was your boss.”
“Tom is my boss’s boss,” he explains. “Lucas, the oldest son, does residential, and Logan runs the retail side. I work with him.”
I really only know Lincoln and Liam through school and baseball, but I think the oldest one—the only girl—was in the same grade as my brother, which means that whoever this Logan guy is, he’s likely younger than Roman. I wonder how he feels about it. I’ll be sure to add it to my list of Roman-related questions I’ll no doubt never ask.
Roman turns at the sound of a car coming up the long gravel driveway and says, “Here he is.”
I step out of the truck when he does, then wait awkwardly for Logan to do the same. He’s tall, around the same height as my brother, and maybe if I paid more attention to Roman, I’d realize that the navy work shirt he’s wearing has the Preston Construction logo on it, because Logan’s wearing the same one.
“Mini Roman!” Logan practically yells, his smile reaching his deep-blue eyes. He’s undeniably attractive, and I bet he knows it, too. “Your brother’s told me a lot about you.”
“He has?” I ask, looking up at Roman, now standing beside me.
“Yep.” Logan looks between us before making his way toward the cabin. Over his shoulder, he says, “I’m glad you decided to come for the summer. I hope you weren’t as nervous about it as your brother was.”
Nervous?
Roman clears his throat—a silent message Logan apparently receives, because he continues as if nothing was said. “Anyway.The job isn’t strenuous. Like, at all. But it’s repetitive and boring as hell.” He opens the door and waits for Roman and me to step through. The first thing I notice is the living room to the left, though it’s not much of a living room, so much as a… studio? There’s a single three-seater couch, with an LED sign on the wall behind it that readsPreston Twins,and in front of the couch is a bunch of cameras and microphone equipment. In the corner of the room is a computer set up with three monitors. Logan must sense my confusion because he asks, “You know the twins? Lincoln and Liam? Roman said you were the same age.”
I nod, my mind running circles.
“They’re big on social media now. YouTube and whatever. You’ve probably seen their videos.”
I haven’t, and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to.
“Anyway, they turned this into their studio when my sister moved out. You’ll be in the back room most of the time, so hopefully they won’t bother you too much.” My pulse kicks up at the mere thought of it. Because whatever the pay is for this job, it sure as hell won’t be worth seeing Liam Preston every day.
Liam
Loud voices stir me from my sleep, and it takes a moment to gain my bearings. I’d worked late last night and fallen asleep in the studio, which seems to be my norm now.
I like it here.