Literature
The Beginning
The water in my shower always took forever to heat up. I wasn't the patient type. Tap-tap-tapping my bare foot on the marble, I glared at the oversized showerhead as if that would make the steam magically appear. My mornings were a race against the clock, even when I didn't have a reason to rush. Being on time just wasn't my style. My villa was the best part of living at home—huge bathroom, walk-in closet, balcony overlooking the pool... It's not bad for a guy who's living the life of a retiree while still in college. Well, technically, in college. With a groan, I yanked on a pair of jeans that were, as usual, way too clean. Wrinkles made me look poor. Or, even worse, like I cared. Tossing on a perfectly unwrinkled Henley that probably cost more than a month of someone's rent, I gave myself a last check in the mirror. Good enough. My boys were sprawled out on the Italian leather sofas like they owned the place. Which, come to think of it, they kind of did. My dad's company bankrolled