3. Verity
CHAPTER THREE
Verity
T he blissful unawareness of sleep drifts away from me as my body wakes up.
At first I don’t know where I am. The room is unfamiliar, the bedding is dark grey, something smells like musk and pine. A rich, dark scent that makes my skin tingle.
My cheek is resting on a very solid, very muscular chest and the sun is right on my face, too bright.
Far too bright.
Blinking away the glaring pain behind my eyeballs, I push my memory around until it wakes up and registers where I am and what happened last night.
Oh no.
That’s not good at all.
I should not have done that.
Of all the stupid ideas I’ve ever come up with, this one has to be top of the list.
Rufino Vece . What the hell was I thinking?
If my father ever finds out…
I don’t even want to think about it. This is too much - I need to go. Should go right now. Before he even wakes up.
Whatever, who am I kidding? I don’t even care. I love causing shit. I love doing stupid things. This particular stupid thing is way up on my list of achievements, but I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks.
Glancing at my phone, I see a ton of messages from my friends.
Scrolling through them, I get the gist of their panic, amusement, and desperate need for an update. I chuckle to myself and immediately regret it.
My head is pounding like a steady drum beat. Thump. Thump. Thump.
I groan loudly, reaching my hand up to massage the headache out of my skull, but it’s locked inside there.
Fuck.
I drank way too much last night. Again.
But at least I remember everything. I’m not one of those people that forget or have to find out from their friends what happened afterwards. I always remember everything.
Even though I might have preferred to pretend like I don’t remember this specific thing.
I can’t believe I slept with Rufino Vece. The Viking of a man I am now sprawled across.
Mm. It was fun, though. Like the fun where you are pushing boundaries, but that’s what makes it ten times better. And damn - he played my body like a musical instrument. The things he did to me.
No, wait, I can’t get carried about remembering all of that. I need to get up.
Lifting my head, I glance over his rugged face. The square jaw patterned with a dark beard, short and neat - fire red.
No wonder people call him Red.
I think he looks like a Viking.
And I have a thing for Viking looking men.
This one fits every single one of my boxes when it comes to looks.
Damn - he is gorgeous.
But also dangerous, my family’s enemy and someone I should not be waking up in bed next to.
I roll off him with a huff, tugging at the sheet that is over both of us and wrapping it around my body, not caring that I climb off the bed and walk away, leaving him with nothing covering him. Besides, it gives me a chance to steal another look at him.
If I wasn’t staring at the fucking hot, sculpted body of Rufino Vece, I would climb right back into bed with him. But I can’t be stupid enough to make that same mistake twice. And this time I won’t even be able to blame it on the alcohol.
Turning away from him, ignoring the heightened buzz I get when I look at him too long, I make my way to the kitchen.
Now that I am not distracted by his hulking sex appeal, coffee is all I care about.
I bang around his kitchen, finding the cabinet with the coffee mugs and whatever else I need.
I make the most perfect cup of coffee and then lean against the kitchen counter to take my first sip. The first sip is always the best.
Hot, creamy liquid flows down my throat, soaking up the pain of my hangover and for a second I feel like I’m going to survive the day.
I sigh with satisfaction and close my eyes to enjoy it.
“Wonderful coffee?” His voice forces me to open my eyes and glare at him.
“It was really great coffee when I could enjoy it in silence .” I chirp.
He laughs, pulling a mug out for himself.
“How are you feeling?”
I sigh. I must make sure he understands that last night was just a mistake. A dumbass, drunk decision I need to forget about.
I scrunch my nose, wondering if I can forget his solid body presses up against mine.
I have to.
“Listen, last night was fun and all, but I’m going to head out now.”
“In my sheet?” his eyes trace over my body. I pull my mouth to the side and narrow my eyes towards him.
I thought he would be reluctant to see me go - not worried about his sheet.
“Mmph.” I huff, rolling my eyes.
What is it about this man that I like so much?
He’s got this calm, I don ’ t give a fuck attitude. I think I see a lot of myself in him. That similar disregard and the same defiant, yet adventurous streak.
I need to leave. Now.
Like right fucking now.
I can’t be standing here eyeing him up and down, wondering about the things I am wondering about.
Rufino Vece is off limits.
I walk out of the kitchen back into the bedroom and slip my dress on over my head, leaving the sheet crumpled on the bed.
Then I pick up my coffee mug and my phone, calling an Uber.
Three minutes wait. Not bad at all.
My feet ache a little when I slip them back into the heels. I guess I danced more than usual last night.
Carrying the coffee, I head back to the kitchen.
My eyes trace over his body again.
No shirt.
Grey sweatpants.
His broad shoulders patterned with the curve and flex of well-defined muscles.
He’s looking fucking divine. And he looks hungry when he gazes at my body.
“Have a cool day.” I shrug. “My Uber is here.”
“Leaving already? Don’t you want breakfast or something? My driver can take you home later.” He lifts his coffee to his lips and takes a slow sip.
“Nope, I’m done here.”
He narrows his eyes, trying to figure me out. But no one can ever figure me out, so good luck with that. I prefer to keep people on their toes, guessing about what’s coming next. Most of the time, I don’t even know what I’m going to do next. I find it’s best to decide in the moment and go with the flow.
Life is more fun that way - instead of bending to other people’s rules and expectations.
I grin, feeling cheeky.
“Bye.” I say and turn to walk out of the front door, sipping my coffee as I go.
“That’s my mug,” He says, sounding confused.
“Is it? I don’t see your name on it.” I smirk, pushing the door open and walking out of his house, towards where the Uber is waiting for me on the street.
“Lexington Building on Seventh Street.” The Uber smells of dash polish as though he’s just had it cleaned.
“Yes, miss.” He confirms the address, and heading towards my father’s building.
My father likes to keep his eyes on the city. Instead of buying a mansion out somewhere away from the city center, he bought a building and converted the top two floors into our home.
I’m fine with it.
I like to keep my eyes on the city too.
Living somewhere in the suburbs would bore me out of my mind.
I keep drinking my coffee while the driver keeps throwing me a random glance in the rearview mirror.
“Can I help you with something?” I say in a sarcastic tone.
He turns his eyes back to the road and doesn’t look again.
Scrolling through the ton of messages I’ve received, I tell my friends that they can get all the updates when I see them. I’m not sure what to tell them.
I can’t believe it happened.
I went through with the dare and for some stupid reason took it even further than that and go home with the guy.
The worst part, the part I am trying to ignore or deny or just not believe - is that I want to see him again. Yeah, stupid. I know.
But why wouldn’t I want the one thing I’m not supposed to have and the sex - I can’t describe how good it was.
It was so intense with him, my heart was racing, and my body was on fire against his.
I’ve never felt that with anyone before.
And there’s something else.
Something that makes me want to roll my eyes at myself because it sounds so cliche.
I feel like I know him. Like my soul knows him.
When I let the thought take form in my head, I roll my eyes at myself.
Yip.
Ridiculous
The Uber driver stops outside the building and I head inside. The private elevator only goes to the top floor. There is another one on the other side of the building for anyone wanting to access anything other than the top two.
It’s a long ride up.
I hope my father isn’t home. I’m not in the mood for another one of his lectures.
Unfortunately, luck is not on my side.
“Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer my messages?” he demands as soon as I walk through the door.
“I stayed at Sammy’s place.” I smile. “Morning, daddy.”
“Like hell you did. Where the fuck were you? His fury clear as the veins on his forehead protrude. Which means they pretty much always stand out.
“Daddy, stop being such a worrier. I was at Sammy’s.”
“Stop doing this, Verity. You can’t be out all night and sneaking home in the same dress you went clubbing in. When are you going to grow up? I can still smell the alcohol on you. People see you. People I know and work with. What do you think they say about your behavior?”
I sigh, grin and roll my eyes.
“Stop being so dramatic. And I’m not sneaking home.” I laugh, ignoring his obvious annoyance.
“Verity, I need you to take this seriously? Don’t make me send you away. Start learning to behave like a lady.”
He’s always threatening to send me to a convent in Europe, but I don’t believe him. Even if I thought the threat was real, it wouldn’t change who I am - I don’t want to be a lady. I want to have fun .
“I’m going to shower.” I call as I walk up the stairs towards my bedroom.
“Verity - I’m talking to you?—”
His voice fades when I close my bedroom door.
I’m twenty-three. I’m not a kid anymore but he still tries to control everything. It drives me crazy.
After a shower and a fresh new outfit I’m almost human again. But if I really want to get rid of this hangover, I need to get some food in my body.
Picking up my phone to see if anyone is free for breakfast I scroll through my messages and my heart stops.
Unknown: You left in far too much of a hurry. I want more.
Of course, I know exactly who it is. But how did he get this number? No one gets this number unless I give it to them.
Me: Who says that what you want matters?
I giggle when I hit send.
Why do I feel like a girl with her first crush?
I can’t let this guy get to me in this way.
I’d better be careful.
Rufino: What I want matters because I always get what I want.
Me: Prove it.
If he wants to see me again, he’s going to work for it. I won’t make it easy, just because it’s more fun that way.
Besides, I can’t let him know I want to see him just as much.