Quarantine and Cash

by Regina Wade

  Quarantine and Cash

  Love in the time of Quarantine Series

  Regina Wade

  Contents

  End of the World Playlist, Vol. 2

  Join my list, never miss a kiss!

  1. Jasmine

  2. Luca

  3. Jasmine

  4. Luca

  5. Jasmine

  6. Luca

  7. Epilogue:

  8. Extended Epilogue:

  Thanks for reading, but before you go…

  Coming Soon:

  Quarantine and Chill: Alpha Isolation

  Also by Regina Wade

  About the Author

  End of the World Playlist, Vol. 2

  Billionaire, Travie McCoy ft. Bruno Mars

  Marry for Money, Trace Adkins

  Rich Girl, Gwen Stefani ft. Eve

  Money Hony, Lady Gaga

  Money, Cardi B

  Super Rich Kids, Frank Ocean

  Join my list, never miss a kiss!

  Sign up for my mailing list and never miss another release.

  1

  Jasmine

  I’d love a boat by the beach on the West Coast… And I’d enjoy some fine champagne while my girls toast. It’s good to live expensive, you know it. — Lady Gaga ‘Money Honey’

  How is it possible to be this miserable in actual paradise?

  Easy.

  My shoes are killing me. The fake lashes that took way too long to apply are making my eyes red and itchy. Whoever splattered that all-day comfort bullshit on the outside of a Spanx package? They should be strung up by their love handles. Worst of all is the groomsman— Ted? Tad? He keeps insisting on leaning all the way into my ear to whisper his sloppy declarations of love with a terrible case of Jager breath.

  The forced smile on my face feels frozen in place at this point.

  A year ago, Christina’s wedding invitation seemed like a dream come true. The chance to see an old high school friend, possibly my only chance to ever visit a spectacular private island, and a much-needed escape from school all rolled into one.

  Twelve months later and my dreamy tropical getaway has turned into a living nightmare in Badgley Mischka heels.

  Spring Break Gods, give me strength.

  I’ve been hyped for law school since the second grade. Seven-year-old me stayed up way too late one night, watching ‘Law and Order’ reruns with my big brothers. I was hooked after my first DoinkDoink. None of that is making my last semester of classes any less stressful, though.

  Especially not now.

  “Let me grab my inhaler,” TedTad slurs again. I briefly contemplate taking the hand sanitizer out of my purse and dabbing it on my moist ear canal. “Because you got ass, ma.”

  Welp. That may just be enough celebratory bliss for me.

  It’s a shame, too.

  I really hoped this would be fun. Thrusting myself out of my comfort zone enough to go to anyone’s wedding alone is a big fat freakin’ deal for me. Let alone one where I actually have to get on a plane and then spend the weekend in an Airbnb. For an introvert like me, paying for the privilege of sleeping in a stranger’s guest bedroom while in a completely foreign place is the equivalent of climbing Mt. Everest.

  Greater women than I have tried and didn’t make it back to tell the tale.

  Yet, here I am anyway. Wearing my uncomfortable Spanx and ready to suck the marrow out of life. What does the universe offer me in return?

  Ted.

  Or Tad? Whatever. Point is, the universe is lame.

  “Hey, wher’ya going?” Tad calls out from his perch on the stool in front of the open bar.

  He’s been there since the reception started, but I hear him get up after me when I slide off my own seat.

  This is so not what I want right now.

  “For a walk,” I reply dryly. “Alone.”

  It’s bad enough that my plane landed right before what is starting to look more and more like an incoming worldwide quarantine. Which means my fantastic vacation is turning out to be nothing more than an expensive turnaround trip.

  So long, exciting solo adventure where Jasmine finds herself and discovers love— and sex! — for the first time. Hello, one long, lonely, night of watching other people find love before heading back home to my trusty vibrator.

  Ugh. I forgot to buy batteries. Visions of empty supermarket shelves fill my head. This kind of thing always makes people go nuts. I saw a video of two grannies brawling like gang members over the last pack of Charmin.

  Mr. DJ, can I put in a request for ‘All By Myself’, followed by ‘Owner of a Lonely Heart’ and then ‘Gonna Die a Virgin’? The last one is my self-titled debut.

  The actual wedding party is just heating up. There’s music pouring out onto a wooden dance floor, where couples are getting down while somehow managing to keep plenty of space between them. It’s both poignant and adorable.

  Christina looks radiant in her champagne off-the-shoulder wedding dress. The breeze blowing in off the pacific picks up the tips of her auburn hair as she dances, teasing it away from her collar. She’s beaming and happy— everything a bride should be. I wave cheerfully at her and her new husband as I make my way carefully around the floor.

  “I’m so happy you’re here!” she calls out breathlessly.

  “I’m glad I came. You guys look so happy.” It’s true. If nothing else, it was all worth it to see how happy she and Greg looked promising to love each other forever.

  I almost hear my wallet whimpering in protest from somewhere inside the tiny clutch purse I’ve got tucked under my arm.

  The music fades behind me. There’s a winding path towards the bluffs overlooking the ocean, and I decide to follow it. Everything about the palatial villa where Christina and Greg chose to get married is spectacular, especially the sweeping views. A sprawling estate on a private island just off Kauai, the house and surrounding gardens are not the sort of place I ever expected to find myself.

  I take a few minutes to just be.

  I may not be able to get in my week of island hopping, or soak up all kinds of sun and surf. But I can still stand here and just enjoy the way the sun sinks over the water with the sounds of laughter and the fading beat of the Macarena at my back.

  The sunset is a wash of purples and pinks against the brilliant blue of the ocean. It’s one of the most peaceful, moving things I’ve ever seen.

  “There you are, beautiful. They already set out dessert, but all I really want is a piece of that cake.”

  Well. It was, anyway.

  I’ve already spun around in my heels, ready to move away and simply ignore the Jager-bro when he reaches out. He’s slow and uncoordinated, so it takes me a second to realize what’s actually going on. His intentions become clear enough a moment later, when he grabs a handful of my ass.

  “Hey!”

  Indignation flares hot in my cheeks. I move on instinct, grabbing the drink out of his hand and splashing it in Whateverthehellhisnameis’s face in one smooth motion. He blinks twice, seeming to sober up and get pissed off simultaneously.

  “What the fuck—”

  “Is there a problem?” A voice cuts him off, rich as vodka and just as smooth.

  I recognize the deep baritone immediately, and my heart threatens to leap out of my chest. Just like that, five years of my life melt away, and I’m right back at a completely different party.

  There’s a moment of tension so strained you could slice it with an engraved cake cutter.

  “Chad. I asked if there was a problem. Because if there isn’t, I think you need to go back to the wedding. She’s not interested, and I don’t blame her.”

  Just like that, I’m alone with the only guy that’s ever made me feel a damn thing.
<
br />   Somehow, Luca Romero managed to get taller and more gorgeous in the half a decade since he stole my first kiss and walked out of my life forever. His perfectly straight teeth gleam in the light. The dusting of stubble on his chiseled jaw is as black as the velvet soft curls at his temple.

  Every night for the past five years, Luca’s impossibly blue eyes are the last thing I see before I fall asleep. Flashing bright and full of teasing promise.

  What an asshole.

  2

  Luca

  I like boarding jets. I like morning sex. But nothing in the world that I like more than checks. — Cardi B, ‘Money’

  “Are you ok, Miss?

  I look at the blonde vixen packed into a crimson dress in front of me. There are a million adjectives that come to mind, and not a single one is as simple as ‘ok’.

  She’s got miles of curves, all of them stacked on heels so high they look like they need a permit. Her hair is in artful disarray, falling sleekly around her shoulders as if to frame her elegantly displayed cleavage.

  I can’t blame her— it’s quite the masterpiece.

  I do my best to play gentleman after stepping in to toss the drunk groomsman, but I can’t help myself. Tits like those belong in the Louvre. My gaze wanders up and down her form, taking in the swell of her ass, the nip of her waist. The strappy heels are doing magnificent things for her legs and my cock twitches in my Tom Ford slacks at the sudden mental image of her wearing nothing but those shoes.

  Still, it’s her face that strikes me the most. A full, sensual mouth. High cheekbones. The most beautiful big brown eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re bourbon warm, flecked with sunlight. Familiar, somehow.

  Really familiar.

  “I’m fine. Luca.”

  Blondie says my name with the same invective as a curse. She gives me a dismissive toss of her platinum tresses and turns to walk away, even as the confusion hits me full force.

  “Hey, wait. Do we know each other?”

  She snorts with her back to me, a rude unladylike sound completely unfitting the polished front. The recognition is instant, a full mind-body connection that slams into me like a force of nature.

  “Jasmine!”

  She stops mid-stride but doesn’t turn back around. I can feel a million emotions swirling around her.

  “Aw, Jazz, don’t be like that. Come here.”

  This time she does turn around, but the look she’s giving me is not friendly. It’s not much better than the glare she was offering Chad a few minutes ago.

  “Don’t you aw Jazz me, Luca Romano.” Jasmine’s eyes are narrowed, her pale brows knit together in a way that makes my cock stiffen all over again. I didn’t know that pissing someone off could do it for me, but boy, does it.

  There’s a click click click sound as her heels snip their way across the stone back to me.

  As soon as she’s within reach, I swoop down, wrapping my arms around her in a bear hug, just like the old days.

  Jasmine squeals in surprise before melting against me in a fit of laughter.

  “I just didn’t recognize you.” I say against her ear. “You don’t exactly look like my best friend’s little sister anymore.”

  It’s the truth. So much so that I’m reluctant to let her go. Pressed against me like this, I can feel Jasmine’s full breasts against my chest. I do release her, though, before she catches on to just how much of an effect our reunion is having on me.

  “You weren’t exactly thinking about Miles the last time we saw each other.”

  If she weren’t standing so close to me, I might’ve missed the quick uptick in Jasmine’s pulse at her collar. Or the way she darts her eyes to my mouth.

  “At least, I hope not.” Her own pouty lips draw up into the slightest hint of a smile at the corner.

  She’s right of course. The last time Jasmine and I were alone together is burned into my memory. Five years ago, at her eighteenth birthday party. She’d been wearing a dress that night, too. I can’t say I remember her filling it out anywhere near this well.

  What do you want for your birthday, Jazz?

  The fire in her chestnut eyes tells me she remembers her answer just as well as I do. I can read it all over her pretty face now. Color flushes her cheeks, and she turns towards the ocean.

  I can’t say I blame her. I make it a point to come out here and watch the sunset every chance I get. Not tonight, though. For the first time in a while, I have something more spectacular to look at.

  “What are you doing here, Luca?” Jasmine asks easily. “Do you know Greg or Christina?”

  It hits me then, just how little we know about each other's lives now. The last time I actually saw Jazz was at Miles’ Police Academy graduation. She’d gotten her scholarship to UCLA not long after that.

  “This is my place.” I tell her.

  Jasmine turns around at that, one pale eyebrow arched dramatically.

  “This house? It’s yours? Like the whole fucking house and all the gardens and that giant ass pool that I totally didn’t go snooping around despite the no trespassing signs?”

  I have to laugh. Jasmine may have grown up to be fucking hot as hell, but she was still very much the same girl I knew. There’s something comforting about that.

  “Not just the house, Jazz. The island, too.”

  She looks at me like she’s trying to sniff out bullshit. Literally. It makes me laugh again. I ease a hand onto the small of her back, thrilled at the way it fits.

  “Seriously. Would I lie to you?”

  “In a heartbeat.” She deadpans without hesitation.

  But she lets me lead her back towards the house and away from the wedding anyway.

  “Miles told me you designed a dating app and it did well,” Jasmine says as we come up on the quiet path that leads to the main living quarters. The look she gives the infinity pool is anything but sly.

  “I guess he wasn’t kidding,” She muses.

  I’m aware of her heels clicking along the pavement and match my longer stride to hers instinctively. I’m easily a foot taller than Jazz, even in her mouthwatering shoes.

  “I do alright for myself.” I give her my most self-deprecating grin. “It’s an app that matches people based on their pet’s personality. You know, dog people, cat people.”

  “GrowlR?!” Jasmine stops mid stride, looking up at me. “That was your app? Why didn’t Miles tell me? What the actual fuck!”

  The pouty look of indignation on her face is both adorable and brutally sexy. Moonlight spills across her pale blonde locks, giving her an ethereal, almost iridescent glow.

  “Easy,” I hold up my hands, giving her a placating look. “When things started to take off, I asked him not to say anything. I wanted to keep a low profile, be able to go home and eat your mom’s terrible spaghetti and have her yell at me to do the dishes, you know?”

  She considers this for a long while. Finally, Jasmine starts walking again. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t seem particularly pissed anymore, either.

  “I’m sorry, Jazz.” I offer.

  “It’s ok, Luca.” Her voice is soft. “I understand. I shouldn’t have been snotty about it.”

  She would understand. For most of our lives, Miles had been my family. I spent far more time at their house than at whatever foster family I happened to be staying with that year of high school.

  There’s a buzzing from the pocket of my jeans just as Jasmine frowns and reaches for the miniature purse she’s got tucked under her arm. From a distance, the wedding music comes to a trickling halt.

  “Ugh. quarantine starts now.” Jazz looks up from her phone screen, confirming the same news I just read. “Great. Now I won’t be able to catch a plane home. This stupid vacation is going to cost me a fortune.”

  She throws her head back, letting out a strangled sound of frustration. Despite our circumstances, I can’t help but picture the sounds she would make if I were to sink my teeth into that tender column of flesh, instead.

>   “Stay here, Jazz.” The words are out of my mouth before I’ve formed them in my mind.

  “What?” she snaps her head up, meeting my blue gaze with all the heat in her big brown eyes. “Luca, are you crazy? We don’t even know how long this thing will last.”

  “So?” I smile at her, taking a step closer. “It’s not like there isn’t enough room for two of us on my island, Jasmine. Stay with me until this is over. I insist.”

  There’s a flash of electricity between us, a snap so intense I’m surprised it isn’t visible to the naked eye.

  Jazz licks her lip, the tip of her tongue wetting that soft pillow in the most enticing way. Inside my slacks, my cock swells. She considers for a moment before narrowing her eyes at me sharply.

  “What’s the catch?”

  3

  Jasmine

  I’d buy everything. Clean out Vivienne Westwood in my Galliano gown — Gwen Stefani, ‘Rich Girl’

  Luca’s laugh is as full and rich as I remember it.

  Oh, how I’ve remembered it.

  He’s always been so full of life. He holds nothing back when he laughs, throwing his head back and filling the night sky around us with the sound. It’s beautiful, as beautiful as the rest of him.

  I’ve remembered that about Luca, too.

  Not that you ever really forget your first kiss. Your first crush. Your first obsession. Luca is all those things and more.

  He’s smiling at me. It’s a predatory, hungry look, and I know I’m done for.

  Is it any wonder I’ve been in love with Luca Romano since the first time my big brother walked his science lab partner through the front door and announced he was staying for dinner?