Loving the Bad Boy's name

Chapter 4: Loving the bad boys name: Nine and a half

Bree's POV

"What are you doing, Bree?"

I hesitantly look up from the magazine clutched in my hands to see Ricky's small frame stood in the main lounge's doorway. I reply absentmindedly, as I carry on flicking through the pages. "Reading." I tell him.

"This, is not reading, Bree." Ricky says, walking over to me and snatching the magazine from my hands, inspecting it with a clear distaste.

I eye the latest Cosmopolitan issue in his hands before rightly snatching it back and frowning. "Really, because it has words."

Uncle Richard folds his arms, his foot tapping at an even tempo against the hardwood floor. I stare at the argumentative and permanently frowning man before speaking. "Look, I don't mean to sound curt, but what do you want from me?"

"Where's Ryder?" He asks adamantly and ignoring my non-rhetorical question, scanning both the room and the outside corridor before coming up blank.

I reluctantly close my magazine knowing that there was no chance that I was going to finish the stupid magazine in peace. "He's still sleeping."

Uncle Richard frowns. "Sleeping at this ungodly hour? It's three o'clock in the afternoon."

"He's still tired from jet lag, I suppose." I shrug, leaving my position on the couch and making my way through to the kitchen, uncle Richard hot on my heels. "And I know every fibre of your existence is dying to wake him up just to annoy him. But I would appreciate if you didn't."

Ricky stamps his expensive leather loafer against the tiled floor like a five year old, irritation that I had caught him out evident on his face. "If he is going to be living rent free in my house for the next two years, I should be allowed to mess with him."

"No." I deadpan, grabbing myself a green apple from the fruit bowl. I smile at Lauren who was setting out ingredients for some sort of cake. "Hey, Laur." I greet before taking a bite out of my shiny fruit.

"Hey darling." Lauren beams, bringing the weighing scales onto the kitchen island.

"Well I guess that she'll have to go by herself." Uncle Richard whispers to himself, his fingers tapping against his chin in thought.

"What're you talking about?" I ask perplexed.

Uncle Richard sighs, his gaze averting from the floor to me. "In short, the family across the street, have a daughter your age that I want you to meet."

"Ricky, are you setting me up on a play date?"

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Ten minutes later, I was stood across from uncle Richards house facing one in was a similar size to his. But then again, all houses in this neighbourhood were large and extravagant. I walk up the large driveway before knocking on the white coloured door.

"Hey cute thang, fancy a night out with me?"

I looked at the sandy blonde haired little boy stood in the doorway. He wasn't small for his age but he definitely didn't reach my height, plus he was like half my age. I laugh, giving him credit for being confident enough to say something like that. "What are you, nine?" I ask, my tone laced in amusement.

"Actually I'm nine and a 1/2." He smiles goofily, his missing teeth making him just that bit more adorable. He winks at me before speaking again. "But age is only a number, babygirl."

I laugh awkwardly, staring out at the houses further down the street. Maybe I got the wrong house. "Okay little guy, but I think that you should maybe find a girl  your own age, huh?"

"Byron! What did I tell you about playing outside without permission." A girl calls from out of sight but she was presumably really close from how clear her voice rung. "BYRON, are you listening—oh." The owner of the voice stops herself as she reaches the doorway, her eyes landing on me.

Byron's eyes widened in realisation when he sees her. "I'll see you later baby." He says, deepening his voice and then running away from the both of us but not before blowing me a kiss. I allowed my wild laugh to fill the air. I wish I was that confident at his age.

I take in the girl who had filled Byron's position in front of me. She had shoulder length, slightly wavy platinum hair and plump lips. "Do I know you?" She asks, her golden brown eyes meeting my own.

I shake my head. "No, probably not, but you know my uncle, Richard Tomas?"

Her eyes open in recognition. "Oh that's right, my mom told me Richard's niece was going to stop by." She tells me, opening the door a little wider. "I never knew Mr. Tomas had family though."

I wasn't surprised by her revelation. I was pretty sure everyone thought that, other than staff, Richard was nearly always alone. "Yeah, my boyfriend and I have just recently moved here. I'm Bree."

"Chanel." She introduces herself, flashing me a cool smile, her perfectly straight teeth on show. Chanel uses her thumb to signal behind her. "You wanna hang for a bit?" She then moves to the side so I had a clear view of inside the house.

"I'd love to."

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"So you have a twin brother called Luke?"

I nod, spinning around on Chanel's desk chair. After I was invited in, she showed me to her room and we had decided to stay in there; her room was cute. The spacious room was painted a baby pink, silk curtains draped across her windows, an array of stuffed animals displayed on her four poster bed.

I had learnt quite a few things about Chanel whilst being here; she normally looks after her little brother Byron as their parents are nearly always on business trips. I also found out that she's seventeen, she is obsessed with pink, her favorite fragrance is Daisy Dream by Marc Jacobs, and that she's also good friends with Sarah.

"So, you have a boyfriend?" Byron asks, bursting through Chanel's bedroom door for the third time since I've been here. If Byron Spencer was anything, he was persistent, I would give him that.

"Yeah I do." I smile, standing up to face him, my foot tapping against the floor.

He frowns, his arms folding angrily. "Well what does he have that I don't?"

"Height, chest hair, an age that's double digits..." I tell him, listing the many reasons on my fingers.

"Baby I'm ten in five months."

Chanel scoffs, hopping off her bed and walking to stand next to me. "Oh please. The only baby around here is you. You still sleep in dinosaur pyjamas."

"Older sister?" Byrons scoffs. "More like DEVIL!" The nine year old yells in irritation before turning back to me, his toothless smile back on show. "You Jamaican? Cos' you're jamaican me horny?"

Chanel replies back instantly and I couldn't help but laugh. "No Byron, but she's Finnish, finnish with this conversation." Chanel takes a hold of my hand, dragging me away from her brother. I try walking away but Byron pulls my arm, the action doing little to nothing but I decide to turn around anyway.

"Well, are you sure you're not African? Cos african love you."

I folded my arms, my eyes narrowing. "No I'm Russian, russian away from you."

"Little brother...be gone!" Chanel yells, shoving Bryon out her room and towards the staircase. She closes the door and sighs, her eyes darting to mine.

"I hate little brothers."