The laughter creeps in quickly, and soon I can’t control it, and it infects Rowe; she’s laughing on the other line just as hard. “I’m serious, Cass,” she says, practically through tears, she’s laughing so hard. “It’s hideous. I’ll go to the hardware store and start repainting so maybe when you get here, I’ll be almost done.”

“Don’t you dare,” I warn her. “We don’t give in, just like they don’t give in. I’ve got this.”

“Okay, but I’m not kidding when I say it’s ugly,” she says, and I smile, because I know the trump card, and it’s going to be awesome to throw it.

I needed Paige’s help, and I was nervous to ask at first. Our relationship was healing, but slowly. She seemed more excited at the prospect of beating Ty—so I used that in my favor, and she called a few friends to help pull things off.

We needed to time it just right, everything like clockwork from the moment our plane touched the ground. I called Rowe, and she made plans with the boys for dinner at Sally’s. We’d meet them there, so that way they could save us a table before it got too crowded. The only risk left was whether or not they left their room unlocked—their keys inside. Something they do…often.

Rowe is jumping up and down at the elevator when Paige and I get upstairs, and her smile means we’re in luck. I leave my things in the hallway, by our room, and we hand Paige all the keys she needs, and she promises that her assistants are on their way.

In exchange, I promise Paige a free bailout, no questions asked, the next time she’s a little in over her head at a party—something that hasn’t happened in a while, now that I think of it. Her lips curl at the edges, a faint smile at my promise—a baby step. And maybe just saying this to her was enough.

“I can handle this,” she says, reaching into her bag for a band to tie her hair. She pulls her jacket from her shoulders, and rests it on my suitcase, kicking her gigantic pumps off so she can work barefoot. The scene makes both Rowe and me laugh.

“What? I’m not lifting things in those,” she says, blowing her bangs up and out of her eyes. It’s funny mostly, because Paige isn’t likely lifting anything. Our suspicion is even more confirmed when we swap places with three extremely large guys on the elevator, and as the doors shut, I think I catch a glimpse of one of them lifting her in his arms.

“Do you know that guy?” Rowe asks. I’m glad she saw that too.

“No idea who he is,” I say, my eyes wishing they could see through the elevator doors as we start our decent. “Someone’s been keeping a secret.”

Whoever he is, he isn’t a jock or frat guy…or anyone I’ve seen around any of Paige’s parties. He’s way off the radar, and nothing like anyone I’d ever pair with my sister based on her tastes. I hope like hell I see him again.

Rowe and I somehow manage to keep our smiles in check throughout dinner—even pretending to be pissed about the brown room, about how they one-upped us…finally. And when my phone buzzes in my lap with a message from Paige that “the deed is done,” I tug my ear to signal Rowe, and her smile grows wicked.

“I almost want to sprint home,” she whispers in my ear as we wait at the front of Sally’s while Nate and Ty linger by the bar to check the score of a game.

“Play it cool,” I say, and she folds her arms and smirks at me.

“Look at you. When did you get all ballsy and good at this?” she asks. “The student has become the teacher.”

“Okay, you and Ty seriously need to stop with the Kung Fu thing,” I say, and Ty catches the end of it.

“You can never talk too much Kung Fu,” Ty says, and Rowe nods in agreement, jutting her fist forward for a pound.

“Damn straight,” she says.

“So what has my young grasshopper mastered?” His question makes me panic, but only for a second, because Rowe is way better at this than I am.

“Oh, you’ll find out,” she says, waggling her eyebrows, and instantly Ty assumes we’re talking sex. It’s easy to take his mind there, and Rowe is a genius for thinking of it. She didn’t really lie, because he will find out soon. He’s just going to be even more disappointed now.

We take our time getting back, as if there’s nothing to be excited about. I stop at our mailbox downstairs, and pull the sets of keys out, dropping them in my pocket before anyone can notice, and we continue to the elevator.

“Mail’s empty,” I say, winking at Rowe behind their backs.