Chapter 21
brOOKLYN
I didn’t tell my dad about the Budapest trip. He might find out on his own, but like with the flatmate situation, I wasn’t doing anything wrong. The only reason I was hiding my trip from him was because I didn’t want him to take it out on Vincent.
Besides, we hadn’t talked since our hallway run in. I got my stubbornness from him, and I refused to break the ice first with a Hungary PSA.
However, my dad was the last thing on my mind when Carina and I landed in Hungary the following Friday.
We were the last to arrive because she had to finish work first, but Vincent had insisted on sending a car for us.
Our driver was already waiting when we exited the baggage claim, and we didn’t have to do anything except sit back and relax while he whisked us to the villa.
“I wonder who else will be there besides Scar and Asher,” Carina mused. “We should’ve asked before we said yes.”
“Would you have said no to any name on the guest list?”
“Absolutely not. An all-expenses-paid holiday to Budapest? They could invite Freddy freaking Krueger and I’d still show up. I’m curious about the guest list. That’s all.”
“It’s a bunch of footballers. Adil, maybe Samson. A few others.”
“Hmm.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What was that?”
“What was what?” she asked innocently.
“That hmm.”
“Nothing.” Carina examined her nails. “I just think it’s interesting that Vincent invited you on his boys’ trip.”
“It’s not a boys’ trip. Scarlett will be there, and he invited you too.”
“Only as your plus-one. Tell me the truth.” She nudged my knee with hers. “Did something happen while you were living together?”
Heat crawled over my face and chest. “No. I’d tell you if it did.”
Nothing had happened. If Vincent and I had actually kissed, I would’ve spilled the beans. That was too big a secret to keep. Until then, I was keeping my mouth shut.
Not that I expected to kiss Vincent anytime in the near future. It was a hypothetical.
Vincent’s villa rental was located in what our driver assured us was one of the best neighborhoods in the city.
It was a gorgeous, sprawling affair that encompassed four floors and multiple balconies, but it was so late that Carina and I didn’t bother exploring.
We said hi to Scarlett and Asher, who told us where our room was, and promptly passed out.
We didn’t even get a chance to see Vincent, who was apparently out with the other guys.
We woke up the next morning to laughter and chatter from downstairs. We got dressed and went into the living room, where everyone was eating breakfast and playing…Jenga?
“B! C! You’re here!” Adil said happily. “You’re just missing A!” He paused. “Wait. I can be your A! We’re like the alphabet trio.”
Carina eyed him. “Are you drunk?”
“Nah. He just feels left out because he doesn’t drink alcohol, so he acts drunk all the time to make up for it.” Samson was sprawled on the sofa with his arm around a beautiful brunette. “The other possibility is his parents dropped him on his head when he was young.”
Laughter scattered through the group. Adil threw a Jenga tile at the grinning winger, who looked unfazed when it bounced off his forehead.
I took a quick inventory of who was here.
Besides me, Carina, Adil, Samson, and Samson’s date, there was Scarlett, Asher, Seth, and Noah.
I was surprised by the presence of the latter two, but it made sense.
Vincent was the only player who could include the newest staff member on a group trip and somehow convince Noah to come along.
Vincent himself wasn’t here, but I held off on asking about his whereabouts. I was a little worried Scarlett would see right through me if I talked about him in front of her.
“Have you guys explored the villa yet?” she asked when we took a seat next to her. “It’s wild.”
“Not yet. I need breakfast first.” Carina yawned. “I’m starving.”
“I’ll get you something from the kitchen,” Seth said, bright and eager as a puppy. “You’ll have plenty of time to explore later. We don’t have scheduled plans until dinner.”
We stayed in the living room through breakfast, and I tried my best to engage in conversations with everyone. However, my mind kept wandering back to Vincent’s absence.
It was his birthday, and he never slept this late. Where was he?
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to ask. “Where’s the birthday boy?” I popped a strawberry in my mouth, feigning nonchalance.
“Probably in his room,” Asher said over Adil’s groan. They’d moved on to poker from Jenga, and Adil had just lost. “Don’t know what he’s doing in there. Don’t want to know.”
“Oh, really? Where’s his room?” I asked casually. I ignored Carina’s knowing smirk. “Ours is huge, so his must be, um, huger.”
Nice job, Brooklyn. Not suspicious at all.
I glanced at Scarlett, who was busy writing a birthday card.
“Fourth floor, last door on the left,” Seth piped up. He’d been running around all morning, fetching drinks and cleaning up spills like he was the maid instead of a guest. “I can show you, if you’d like.”
“No, that’s okay,” I said quickly. “But Carina and I should go take a look around. Shouldn’t we?”
“Sure.” She rose to her feet and stretched, the shit-eating grin still on her face. “Let’s take a look around.”
When we were out of the group’s earshot, she added, “Want to start on the fourth floor?”
“Oh, shut up.” I picked up my pace, my face burning.
“What?” She ran after me, laughing. “It makes sense. Start from the top, make your way to the bottom. Unless you like being on the bottom.”
“You are so immature.” But I couldn’t help laughing with her. It was impossible to be mad at her; she was too good-natured, if also too observant for my liking.
Although I’d used the tour as an excuse to break off from the group, I was genuinely awed by the villa.
It was grand enough for royalty. Besides two heated pools, one indoor and one outdoor, it boasted a twenty-person screening room, a bowling alley, and a wine cellar stocked with bottles that probably cost more than my monthly rent.
The bedrooms were spread across the third and fourth floors. Carina stopped when we reached the top landing. “I need to use the toilet,” she said. “You go ahead. I don’t need to see another bedroom anyway. Bye! Have fun!”
“Wait! Carina, get back—”
She disappeared down the stairs, her laughter trailing up from the bowels of the house.
I glanced down the hall and held back a groan. I couldn’t knock on Vincent’s door for no reason. I’d look like I was obsessed with him.
An idea clicked into place. I ran to my room on the third floor, grabbed what I needed, and went back upstairs.
Last door on the left.
I hesitated for a second before knocking. Maybe he wasn’t here. Maybe—
“Come in.”
My stomach flipped. I had no reason to be nervous. I talked to Vincent all the time. Seeing him in Budapest was the same as seeing him in London.
I took a deep breath and entered the room. “I…” My greeting died in my throat.
Oh, God.
I’d walked in at the worst time. Or the best time, depending on how you looked at it.
Vincent was facing away from the door, half naked and in the process of pulling a white T-shirt over his head. Gray sweatpants rode low on his hips, and I glimpsed the mouthwatering flex of his chiseled back muscles before his shirt covered it.
It wasn’t my first time seeing him shirtless, but there was something about this particular moment that hit me like a lightning strike in a quiet field.
Every nerve ending lit up. Heat surged through me, and my palms tingled with the need to run my hands over his back and feel the hard planes of muscle beneath my fingertips.
Vincent turned. His eyes locked on mine, and I knew—I knew—he felt it too.
The shift.
The charge in the air.
It felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of us in this room, and we were both caught in a pull so magnetic, I could feel every inch of his presence from across the room.
Then he spoke, and the tension shattered.
“You made it. How was your flight?” He sounded way too calm compared to my racing pulse. “I figured you were going to crash last night, so I didn’t say hi. I was going to find you later, but you beat me to it.”
“The flight was good.” I matched his unaffected tone, irrationally annoyed by his composure. If I was thrown off-balance, he should be too. “How was last night?”
“Good.” His cheek dimpled, and a devilish gleam entered his eyes. “Enjoy the show?”
My cheeks flamed when I realized what he meant. Arrogant jerk. “I’ve seen better.”
“There’s that bad taste again.”
“There’s that giant ego again. We all have our faults.”
“So you admit it. You have bad taste.”
“I guess so. If that’s the case, you probably don’t want your birthday gift…” I made a show of holding up the gift bag and leaving, but I only took two steps before Vincent caught up to me.
“Wait, wait.” His hand closed around my wrist. He sounded like he was trying not to laugh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult your impeccable taste.”
My skin tingled beneath his touch, but I brushed it aside and gave him an impudent smile. “That’s what I thought. So easily swayed.”
“Don’t act so cocky yet. Let’s see what you got me first.” He released me to take the gift box. “What is this? A Whoopee cushion? A T-shirt that says ‘Vincent DuBois Sucks’?”
I shrugged. “Open it and find out.”
Despite my feigned indifference, my stomach fluttered with nerves as he tore away the gift wrap and opened the box.
His lips parted. He stared at its contents for a long, agonizing moment before he broke into peals of rich laughter.
Relief cooled my lungs. I grinned. “Like ’em?”
“Are you kidding? I fucking love them. Where did you get these?”
“I mixed and matched. Some are from department stores. Others are from slightly sketchy websites. This one was custom-made.” I pointed to a pair of boxer briefs with his face on it.
I’d spent a week agonizing over his gift. What did you give someone who already had everything? I couldn’t compete when it came to money spent, so I’d opted for something humorous but heartfelt.
Vincent said he owned one type of underwear during our arcade night (black Delamonte boxer briefs—I’d checked), so I bought him a dozen more of my choosing for variety’s sake.
His underwear collection now included a navy pair printed with blueberry pancakes, a white pair with an alternating pattern of footballs and boots, and a green pair with little T.
rex heads in an ode to Blackcastle’s book club.
My favorite, however, were the custom-made black briefs plastered with Photoshopped pictures of him from the waist up, wearing dark shades and a Happy Birthday sash.
I was afraid gifting him underwear would be weird since that was something a girlfriend would do, but I figured he’d enjoy the cheeky humor (no pun intended).
“I’m wearing these tonight.” Vincent held up the Photoshopped ones. “If I miss this opportunity, I’ll never forgive myself. Actually, fuck it. I’m changing into them right now.”
“This means you can’t say I have bad taste ever again!” I yelled after him.
He closed the en suite bathroom door, his laughter echoing through the wood.
I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. Coming to Budapest had definitely been a good idea. My worries already seemed less all-consuming. I was healthy, I had a great friend group, and I had a decent nest egg. I’ll be fine. Even if I didn’t thrive, I’d survive.
While Vincent changed, I wandered through his bedroom. Correction: his suite. It was too big to be called a bedroom. It even had a balcony, though it was too cold outside to enjoy it.
His phone sat on his nightstand. It kept lighting up every two seconds, and my eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to it. A flurry of texts filled the lock screen. Most of them were happy birthday messages, but the one at the very top was a calendar notification.
Birthday - Do Not Contact.
My brow wrinkled. Why would he set a Do Not Contact reminder on his birthday?
“What are you doing?”
I startled and whirled around. Vincent stood in the bathroom doorway. His voice was neutral, but his gaze slid between me and his phone with a hint of suspicion.
“Nothing.” I hadn’t done anything wrong, but my heart pounded like I had.
“I mean, I was checking out your room and this caught my eye.” I gestured to the lamp next to his phone.
A crystal swan with sapphire eyes formed the base.
It freaked me out a little, and I really had been interested in it before his phone distracted me.
“Yeah, I think the owner is a big crystal guy. You should see the ballroom. Crystal chandeliers everywhere.” Vincent walked over and slid his phone in his pocket.
“I’m going to hit the gym for a bit, but I’ll see you at dinner?
Thanks again for the birthday gift.” His face softened. “I love it. Really.”
It was a clear dismissal. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you later.”
I left, my brain buzzing with questions. Who was that reminder about, and why did he set it for today specifically? He didn’t hang out with anyone outside of Blackcastle and his sister’s friend group.
Was it an old teammate? A business partner? An ex-girlfriend?
My chest pinched at the thought.
I’d always considered Vincent a pretty open book, but I’d never seen him shut down that quickly.
Uncertainty shadowed me as I rejoined my friends downstairs.
Just when I thought I had him figured out, he surprised me all over again.