Page 132 of The Perfect Wrong

I shut my laptop, ignoring the passive-aggressive email from Professor Thosser, poking me about being late on updates.

I need to get out of here and go for a run.

Maybe I’ll catch Marnie later for drinks or something.

Dad and Evie are mysteriously absent all day.

When I get home later, I see my wicked stepmother in the hall, berating Marguerite for something I’m sure she didn’t do.

“Lavender roses? The first thing you see when you walk in? Whatwereyou thinking, Maggie?”

I wince. Her tone and that mangled nickname feel like a dagger in my stomach.

Poor Marguerite.

“Mr. Burr has trusted my judgment for years. He prefers softer, inviting colors. If you’d like me to try something bolder, I can certainly—”

“Try? No, Maggie. How about you listen for once? Didn’t I tell you fromday onehow much I love reds? The brighter, the better.”

Marguerite looks down and nods sullenly.

Holy crap.

It’s a hellish test of sheer willpower not to march right over and smack some manners into this leering witch.

But it’s like she has a sixth sense for how I really feel.

Evie looks over the poor woman’s shoulder. She gives me the evil eye as soon as she notices me.

I put on my best resting bitch face and glare back before heading to my room.

Yeah, this is just the crap cherry on this shit sundae of a week.

When did my life become an actual thriller?

I don’t know how I’m supposed to process any of this.

My hero, my lover, my obsession is still mystepbrother.

And unless this joke of a marriage melts down a lot faster than I think, he will be for a long time to come.

Even if he wasn’t, he said he’s not the type who settles down.

He’s all work and rough play.

Damaged goods, supposedly, and every time I see Evie, it’s easy to see why.

...but I didn’t see a man who can’t love in Vegas.

I tasted one who blurted his feelings out right in the thick of passion.

We never even revisited that. I was too afraid to ask.

Too scared to hear him brush it off as a mistake, something he just blurted out, because of course he can’t really feel the big, scaryLword for me.

It was just sex,I tell myself.Incredible gold medal bedroom gymnastics so good you’re thinking it’s more.

Don’t be stupid.

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