Locks Of Love

EIGHT

Timber's Point of View

"It's the eye of the tiger, it's the flame of the fight. Rising up to the challenge of our rival. And the last known survivor stalks his pray in the night, and he's watching us all in the eye of the tiger," Lance sings out as he gets dressed for the day.

He starts to do the beat and made punches with his hand. I laugh quietly because I was pretending to sleep so he would go and get me breakfast.

"Timber, I know you're awake," Lance called out from the bathroom. "I'm assuming the usual for breakfast?"

"Yep!" I mutter, knowing he heard me even if he isn't in the same room.

Lance leaves the room and I try my hardest to go back to sleep, but that failed. I get out of bed and attempt to brush my hair in the bathroom.

"Honey, I'm home!" Lance yells out, the door shutting as he comes back into the room.

"Food!" I squeal, running towards him.

Lance hands me my food and I ignore him completely as I start to devour my pancakes. Lance likes to say I look like I'm inhaling my food with how fast I eat it. He starts laughing as he finishes off his orange juice; the straw in his cup making the slurping sound.

"I swear, you love pancakes more than you love me," Lance mutters, reaching out for a pancake.

I slap his hand away harshly and smile evilly. "I will always love pancakes more than anything in my life, even you."

"Ow, woman! That actually hurts!"

"Poor little baby. Don't you ever touch my pancakes again."

"I'm the one who got you them. Can I at least have one?"

"Go and get your own."

"You guys fight like a married couple," a voice calls from the hall.

Lance and I both snap our heads to the open door as a tall guy with blond hair and black eyes stands there. Lance slowly inches in front of me, his hand reaching around my waist backwards. The color of his green irises darken as his eyebrows draw together slightly.

"Who are you?" Lance practically growls at the boy.

"Name's Reece Locke. I'm assuming from the girl's red hair and raggy clothes that she's a Weasley?" Reece snickers, his hand going up to cover his mouth.

"Actually, anywhere but. I'm a Black, not a Weasley," I reply, walking over to him before Lance could catch my arm.

"You got a feisty one here," Reece says, looking up at Lance before back down at me. This causes Lance's pupils to shrink then enlarge with an emotion unknown to me.

"I'm Timber Black, and that's Lance Milton," I greet, pointing to myself then to Lance.

If this guy is making Harry Potter references, he will always and immediately be considered a friend to me.

"Are you guys a couple?" Reece asks, walking into our room and sitting at the desk.

Before I can get a word in, Lance answers him. "Yes. Been together for two years."

"No you haven't," Reece replies simply. "I'm assuming you're Jared's daughter?"

I nod and raise an eyebrow. This guy seems to know everything, yet I've never heard of him.

"Well, you and Lance need to be downstairs soon. My father and yours are having a business brunch and he wants both of you to attend," Reece announces before standing up and leaving.

Lance and I put on our outfits for the day and hurry downstairs to see my father and another man standing with Reece at their sides.

The man standing next to my father was wearing an all black suit, his blond hair slicked back. He had dark brown eyes with creases in the corners due to stress. He also had stress lines marked into his forehead and some around his nose. His eyes held no emotion, completely cold, and he kept the same facial expression the whole time I saw him.

"Miss Black, Mister Milton, glad you could join us," the man says in an almost mocking tone, like sarcasm but more rude.

"Hey, Timber," my dad says, "this is Mr. Locke and his son Reece."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Locke," I say, holding out my hand for him to shake. He ignores the offer and turns around. He walks out the door, my father in tow behind him.

Reece smiles, only one corner of his mouth lifting. Almost like a smirk. He stares at me as I drop my hand. He seems a lot like my father. They both seem to like to mock people.

Reece, Lance and I follow the men outside. Lance makes sure that I'm on his left side, his hand reaching down and enveloping mine in his. Reece glances over at this, his eyes squinting in a narrow glare. He is trying to figure something out, but he turns around and walks away faster.