Chapter Three
VINNIE
I can feel the vibration of the bass before we make it to the top floor. My pulse races with every ascending number as the elevator climbs higher and higher.
This isn’t the first party I’ve been to this year, but it's the biggest.
Asher Thomas’s parents left for a long weekend trip to The Hamptons, and he decided to throw a pre-graduation rooftop rager the second they were gone, inviting not only the students of our schools, Agnes Parker’s All-Girls Day School and Quincy Elliott’s School for Boys, but the students of Kensington Academy as well.
All three are on the Upper East Side, but rarely intermix.
Needless to say, knowing I’m about to be in a sea of faces I’m unfamiliar with is giving me a rush of adrenaline of both excitement and nerves.
Sensing I need an anchor, Raina, my best friend, reaches down and laces her fingers through mine. “I heard Christian broke up with his girlfriend, finally.” She shakes my hand, a mischievous little smile coasting her lips. “Maybe he’ll be DTF.”
Snapping my head in her direction, I give her what I feel like is a completely baffled look. “Because I am? Just because I have a crush on the guy doesn’t mean I’m going to give it up to him on Asher’s roof, Raina.”
She laughs and turns toward me, weaving her fingers through my hair and tousling it slightly to give it more volume. “I’m just playing! I know you wouldn’t. But you didn’t deny that you want to give it up to him.”
“Whatever.” Rolling my eyes, I adjust the hem of my black mini-dress, trying to give it more length than is physically possible. Raina talked me into wearing it, when the last thing I wanted was to bring more attention to myself.
Right now, I feel completely out of control of my body—an ugly duckling, if you will.
Which isn’t entirely true, but it’s how I feel.
Self-conscious and hyper-critical of my body.
Teenage hormones haven’t been kind to my skin, and I am counting down the days until my hideous braces get removed.
Dolling me up in a skintight dress with pretty makeup and hair won’t fix either of those things.
No matter how much makeup she caked on my face.
“At least the Mason ship has sailed! You held onto that for far too long.”
“He’s cute.”
“Mason Townsend is the physical definition of the word settling.”
“Just because he isn’t a bad boy doesn’t mean he’s boring!”
Her bubbly laughter fills the elevator as the doors open, she grins and pulls me through them. “You’re the one who said he was boring, babe!”
Immediately we’re hit with the cool New York air and a cloud of smoke—exhaled from a kid to my right, the lit joint extended as though he’s passing it to me.
Electronic dance music pulses through the huge speakers placed at all four corners of the rooftop, and all around us bodies gyrate.
I watch as drinks get sloshed from cups spilling onto exposed skin, unnoticed by those completely lost in the music, or those too drunk to care.
“Looks like we’re behind,” Raina comments, pulling me to one of the two bars lined with liquor bottles.
Inwardly, I cringe.
I enjoy a party as much as the next person, but parties like this…they make my skin crawl.
And yes, I am aware of how incredibly stuck up that sounds.
I just hate when people can’t hold their liquor, and I hate drugs even more. Ironic, considering what my father does, though if he knew I knew, he’d sugarcoat it with a bald-face lie and deny the truth.
To the world, my father is the single most profitable coffee importer in North America, with teams all around the world scouting the finest coffee beans and undiscovered growers.
But behind that facade, my father is actually one of the most profitable drug smugglers this country has seen in decades.
It’s only been two years since I found out, eavesdropping, when my two older brothers, Luciano and Joseph, were whispering in the men’s parlor late one night.
Joseph was praising my father’s ventures, talking about how ingenious he was and how he couldn’t wait to take over for him one day.
Luciano, on the other hand, seemed quite irritated with the eagerness Joseph exuded.
Joseph was only seventeen at the time. He had his whole life ahead of him, and the brains and wealth to back him in whatever path he went down, but instead, he was excited to step into the shoes of a glorified drug dealer.
Since overhearing that conversation, I’ve kept a closer eye on Joseph, not that I needed to since he was always keeping an eye on me, constantly glaring at me with a look of malice hidden behind his toffee colored eyes.
The last few years, intuition has reminded me to watch my back around my older brother.
Joseph has a knack for making me feel like his prey, and while I want to think the best of my own flesh and blood, I’m not the only one who notices his strange behavior.
Raina hates being around him, too.
“Here,” she says as she pushes a clear plastic cup in my hand, filled to the brim with amber liquid.
Bringing it to my nose, I smell what she’s handed me, and take a sip when I smell the sugary scent of Coke. But under the sweetness, are the unmistakable notes of rum, so I sip slowly. The combination explodes on my tongue and I can’t fight the moan that escapes from the taste.
“Oh! Look,” she squeals, and I lower my cup to follow her line of sight. “There’s Brock Leclair. He’s so freaking cute.”
“Who’s Brock Leclair?”
“He’s the best attacker on Kensington’s lacrosse team,” Raina says with a deep sigh as she watches him from across the room. “I heard he plays hard both on and off the field.”
Taking another sip of my drink, I scan the group of guys standing with Brock. I don’t recognize any of them, but they’re cute enough. “Do you want to go introduce yourself?”
“Introduce myself?” She rolls her eyes playfully at me. “We’ve been sexting for a week now, baby girl. I’m going to do more than introduce myself. C’mon!” Circling her fingers around my wrist, she pulls me again, and I have to hold my drink in front of me to avoid spilling it.
As we weave through people, I stop paying such close attention to my rum and Coke and look up at the countless faces around me. When we stop in front of the group, I give a shy smile, but let Raina do the talking. She doesn’t hesitate.
“Hey, Brock. Recognize me?” she flirts, leaning into him a little.
He grins as she presses up on her tiptoes, her breasts pushing against his bicep as she whispers something in his ear.
Raina is a pathological flirt. She thrives on male attention and has no care in the world about what other people think of her, but the hilarious reality of it is, she’s still a virgin.
And it’s no secret, either. It’s why the boys work so hard to get in her good graces—they’re trying to be the one she finally gives it up to.
Little do they know, she’ll never give it to any of them. Deep down, Raina is a hopeless romantic. We’ve had countless conversations about how she’s saving herself until marriage simply because she knows if they’ve made it that far, he’s worth giving it to.
“Introduce us to your friends,” Raina urges as she trails her finger down Brock’s arm. His eyes are hooded as he looks down at her, his arm braced above her head against the brick wall.
His head lowers slightly, never leaving Raina’s orbit as he spouts off names. “Liam, Garrett, Ollie, Enzo, and Sly.”
My eyes bounce around the half circle the guys have formed, most giving a wave or a nod as Brock says their names, but when my attention lands on the last one, Sly, my breath catches in my throat.
He’s gorgeous, leaning against the wall in a black t-shirt and jeans with a look that could quite honestly kill.
His hazel eyes bore into me with a look of anger, and I’m instantly confused as to why.
I’m stuck on the sharp features of his face, the way his shirt hugs his muscles, and the way my body begs for me to move closer to him.
Conflicting emotions rage through me, alarm bells ringing in my head.
But the longer I stare at him—and at this point, I’m openly staring—the more a sense of familiarity builds in my chest. I’ve seen him before. I feel like I know who he is.
A faded memory flashes through my mind of me on a staircase, looking behind at a boy in the shadows…
“Have we met?” I blurt, taking a step closer although I’m not sure why.
My movement makes him straighten.
“I don’t know, have we?” he counters, his voice deeper than I imagined.
“I’m Vinnie.” I reach my hand out, but he doesn’t take it.
“Vinnie is a guy's name.”
His friends snicker. Heat rises in my cheeks, but I force the slight embarrassment it causes down and stand up a little taller.
“Afraid of a female with a guy's name? I understand. It can be a little disappointing when you realize females are the stronger sex and we get to use your names, too.”
“Ohhhhh,” his friends goad. All except Brock, who now has his tongue down Raina’s throat.
I guess I’m on my own with this.
Pushing off the wall, he takes two steps toward me and suddenly there’s only an inch of space between us. He’s a full head taller than I am, so I tilt mine up to look at him.
The world falls away.
My pulse skyrockets as the light scent of his cologne and the darkness behind his eyes envelops me. His voice drops low as he leans in, careful not to actually touch me as he brings his lips to my ear.
“Paladinos are unworthy of my fear,” he spits, then purposely bumps my shoulder as he pushes past me.
I’m rooted in place, my mouth hanging agape with shock. Speechless, I stand there, eyes bouncing to everyone in the circle, wondering if that seriously just happened. The looks on the guys’ faces range from indifference to confusion, and it’s clear they have no idea what just happened, either.
Except for one.