Chapter 2
Chapter Two
THREE YEARS AGO
When you turn eighteen something is supposed to change. At least that’s what I thought. I still feel the exact same, though. Maybe besides the fact I’ve finished high school and am now waiting for college to start. I think when I move to campus, things will feel different.
I won’t be as crowded by overprotective males. Like my brother, who is currently watching me like a damn hawk.
“You want a picture, Alfie? It’d last you longer.” I stick my tongue out at him. I’m eighteen. I never said I was mature.
“I’d love a picture of you, Frankie. You’re my favorite sibling.” The jerk smiles back at me.
“I’m right here.” Our other brother snorts.
“We know,” I tell Hudson. “Do me a favor and distract Grumps over there so I can sneak some champagne. It is my birthday.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening. You can wait until you’re twenty-one,” Alfie tells me.
“You know, in a lot of other countries, the drinking age is eighteen,” I counter.
“That’s great. But you don’t live in those countries. You live here. Twenty-one, sissy. No ifs or butts.”
“Argh, you’re such a buzzkill, you know that?” I stomp my foot and storm away from my brothers.
“Hey, princess, what’s wrong?” My dad stops me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. His lips press against my temple, and I lean into him.
“Your sons are assholes.” I groan.
My dad chuckles. “Why? What’d they do now?”
“They’re hovering and it’s making it impossible for me to sneak a glass of champagne,” I tell him, batting my eyes and hoping he takes pity on me.
“Good. That’s what they’re supposed to be doing, princess. You don’t need alcohol,” Dad says.
I eye the crystal glass of amber liquid in his hand. “Really, then why do you have it so much?”
“Because I’m not eighteen, baby girl.” He smiles and kisses my head again. “Are you having fun? Your mother went to a lot of effort planning this party for you.”
“It’s amazing.” I smile, because I’m not an ungrateful brat. I know how hard my mother worked on this party.
All of my friends from school are here, and all of our extended family. It really is a great party. It’s being held in the ballroom of one of my dad’s casinos. No expense spared.
“There she is, my little princesa.” Tío E’s voice booms over the music as he makes his way towards me with his arms wide open.
“Fucking hell, I was hoping his invite got lost in the mail,” my dad grumbles under his breath.
I laugh. “No you weren’t,” I tell him right before I throw myself at my uncle. “Tío E, I’m so glad you could make it.”
“As if anything could keep me from celebrating you becoming an adult,” he says.
“Thank you.”
“Happy birthday, sweetheart. You look so grown up.” My Aunt Evie wipes at the corner of her eye.
“Thank you.” I stand a little taller at my aunt’s praise. “Now, if you could let my brothers know that I’m grown and they don’t need to hover over me like hawks, that would be great.”
“Yeah, they’re never going to stop doing that. Sorry.” My aunt pulls me into her arms.
“This is for you. Happy birthday.” Tío E hands me an envelope.
“I really fucking hope that’s an appropriate gift for an eighteen-year-old, E,” my dad grunts.
“When have I ever given her anything that’s not appropriate?” Tío E raises a brow.
My uncle is known for his over-the-top gifts. For my tenth birthday, he gifted me an entire ranch in Texas, because I was obsessed with horses. I still own that ranch, but my dad made arrangements for the place to be managed. We’ve been there on vacation.
“You didn’t need to get me anything. Thank you.” I look at my uncle and aunt as I tear into the envelope and pull out the papers.
“It’s the deed to an apartment just off campus. I heard you were planning to live in the dorms. Now you don’t have to,” Tío E says. “The building is secure.”
I blink at him, forcing myself to smile. I really wanted to live on campus. “Thank you. This is… a lot.”
“You’re welcome, princesa,” Tío E says before he drags my dad away to the bar. “Louie, I need a drink.”
“I’m going to hunt down your mom. You okay?” Aunt Evie asks me.
“Mhmm, I’m good,” I tell her.
Once I’m alone, I find a spot in the corner of the ballroom and look around. This is a really good party. My mom doesn’t do anything by halves. When no one is watching, I swipe a glass of champagne from the passing waiter and down it as fast as I can.
Well, that was easy. I do this another four times before I start feeling dizzy. I probably should have eaten something.
Sticking close to the wall, I continue around the room, making sure no one notices me. Not an easy feat when the whole world is spinning. Pushing into the ladies’ restroom, I’m on my knees with my head in the toilet in seconds. Everything I just drank comes right back up.
“Gross,” I moan.
The door opens and closes. “Here, drink this.” Emilio drops down beside me, holding out a bottle of water.
I groan. Of course it’s fucking Emilio.
“Why are you in here?” I snatch the water from his grip, swish some around my mouth, and spit it out into the toilet before flushing.
“I saw you stumble in,” he says.
“I don’t need your help, Emilio. You can go now,” I tell him.
“Really? Because it looks to me like you drank too many glasses of champagne too quickly, and now you’re drunk and throwing up at your own party,” he says.
“It’s my party. I can do whatever I want.”
“Sure,” he draws out. “Drink some water. It’ll help.”
I really hate that it’s him in here seeing me like this. I hate that I’m always such a bitch to him, but it’s just easier to push him away than to do what I really want to do. Which is to pull him in, press my lips against his, and to hell with the consequences.
“I must look like a hot mess.” I frown while peering down at my black sequined dress.
“Nah, you’re the prettiest girl at the party, Frankie.” Emilio winks at me.
“I bet you say that to all the girls.” I laugh.
“The only other girl I’ve ever said that to is my little sister,” he replies with such seriousness.
Great, so he’s relating me to his little sister. Family. That’s what we are. That’s why he’s always helping me. Obligation. I think all the males in our family are born with something in their DNA that makes them innately attentive and protective of the females around them.
“Thanks.” I lean my head against the back of the door.
“Why are you drinking anyway?”
“Didn’t you hear? It’s my birthday. I’m eighteen now.” I smile.
“I heard.” Emilio’s eyes roam down the length of my body before they meet mine again. He turned eighteen two months ago.
“I thought I would feel different. I don’t.”
“It’s just a number, Frankie. Your age doesn’t change you.”
“I wanted it to,” I tell him.
“Why would you want to change?” he asks.
“Because I’m a mess.” I shrug. “I don’t know.”
Emilio doesn’t say anything.
I look up at him. “This is the part where you say: Oh no, Frankie, you’re not a mess. You have all your shit together.”
“I’m not a liar.” He smirks. “But I happen to think you’re pretty great just the way you are. You don’t need to change.” He reaches up and pushes a few loose strands of my hair out of my face.
Oh god, this is it. He’s going to kiss me. I know that look in his eyes. I’ve seen it on other boys. Emilio leans in. I lean in closer and then my lips are against his. I swear something sparks to life inside me. I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels like I’m alight from the inside out.
My hands flatten against his chest and I push him back. My eyes widen. “We shouldn’t have done that.” I stand on shaky legs. “Thanks for the water,” I call out before running out the door.
Holy shit, what the hell was that? Maybe it’s just the alcohol.
One thing I know for sure, though. I can never kiss Emilio Lopez again. Because if I do, I might not stop. No, I need to stay the hell away from him. The problem is, he’s always there, saving me like the white knight in the fairy tales my dad used to read to me as a kid.