I shook my head. “If I was there with Kate or Betty, sure. Not with some foreign rich kid who you obviously have plans for.” I studied Mom, waiting for her telltale sign that she was up to no good.
Mom stared at me, and. just when I thought she wasn’t going to, her right eye twitched. Bingo. I was right.
I groaned again and folded my arms across my chest. “Why? Why are you sending me away? What could that possibly bring to the family?”
Plus, I was terrified of planes. Just thinking about how long I would be stuck in one with Stefano made me want to check myself into a mental institution. Was what she was gaining worth losing her only daughter?
Probably.
Mom pinched her lips together and then let her breath out slowly. “There are some sacrifices we have to make in this family, Brielle. You have to accept this.” She fiddled with her extremely tight braid at the nape of her neck. “We expect you to be ready by Monday to spend the summer with the Espositos and Stefano. We expect you to be sweet and respectful. A merger of our families would only strengthen the Livingstone name.” She narrowed her eyes as she studied me, like I was supposed to understand what that meant.
Which, unfortunately, I did. I was spoken for. It was our parents’ intention to get me and Stefano together. To get married. I wouldn’t screw over my own family, and that’s what my parents were banking on.
I was suddenly shoved about two hundred years into the past, where my parents were arranging my marriage and telling me who I could love.
Instead of answering her, I just turned away. I was too hurt and way too mad to respond. I didn’t want to hear how I needed take my role in this family seriously. I also didn’t need to hear Mom tell me that it would be all right and that I was just overreacting.
But most of all, I didn’t want Mom to see the tears brimming on the edge of my eyelids. I was pretty sure that in mere seconds, the waterworks were going to spill.
Mom let out a frustrated sigh, and I didn’t need to look to know that her stern expression had turned to one of annoyance. She was staring at her blubbering daughter, whose reaction was only going to inconvenience her. She couldn’t understand how I always let my emotions get the better of me.
But I couldn’t pretend everything was alright. I was a wreck inside.
“I’m going back in to finish lunch. Take the time you need, but I expect you back in your room in a few hours. You are taking Stefano out this afternoon and showing him the highlights of Atlantic City.”
I kept my head ducked down as I nodded. I didn’t have the energy to fight her anymore. She’d made up her mind, and experience had taught me that there was no changing it.
I heard her footsteps pause near me, and she reached out her hand to very awkwardly pat me on the back. I wanted to pull away, but I stayed there, hiding from the world as the sound of her footsteps grew quieter until they disappeared.
I stood there for a few minutes as I tried to gather my thoughts. I didn’t want to look like a blubbering idiot as I walked around the hotel. I wasn’t going to move away from the safety of the alley until I had my emotions under control.
But the more I thought about what had happened, the madder I got. Who did Dad and Mom think they were? Selling me off to the highest bidder and expecting that I would just go along with it.
What the heck? I was almost an adult. I didn’t have to stand by and take this. They were the ones who needed to seal this deal, not me. They were going to have to find a way that didn’t include me.
“Ridiculous,” I breathed out as I pushed away from the wall and made my way around the corner of the building. Dumpsters were lined up against the wall. I pinched the bridge of my nose as I studied the ground. I just needed to figure out how to get out of this.
“Is this what a nervous breakdown looks like?” a deep, mocking voice asked me.
I closed my eyes for a moment. I really wasn’t up for dealing with some half-drunk, gambling-crazed man right now. “Can you just leave me alone?” I asked. I spun toward the voice, only to practically swallow my tongue.
Jet Miller was leaning against the building with his legs stretched out in front of him and a half-cocked smile on his face. He reached up and pulled earbuds from his ears. He had a pocketknife in his hand, and he returned to whittling the stick he was holding in his other hand.
“What?” he asked as he slid the knife down the branch, shards flying everywhere.
Was this like a hobby for him? It didn’t seem to match his personality. And then I felt dumb. He was probably sharpening his knife for his next fight, not carving masterpieces out of wood.
His gaze held mine as his eyebrows rose. Almost like he was waiting for me to say something.
Right. Talking. I knew how to do that.
“Nervous breakdown? No. Panic attack? Yes.” Heat instantly rushed to my cheeks. Why was I talking like a robot? “I mean...”
No words came to my mind. Literally all the words I knew flew out, leaving an empty space between my ears.
Instead of standing there like a blubbering fish, I pinched my lips shut—Mom would be so proud—and returned to pacing.
Jet didn’t seem phased by my brain spasm and returned to running his blade across the wood, sending shavings everywhere.
“What does a girl like you have to panic about?”
There was a hint of distain to his voice that caused me to pause. It was almost like he didn’t like me. Which was stupid. We’d literally never met before.
“Excuse me?” I asked before I could stop myself. Was he joking? And then I suddenly realized that there was a very good chance that he’d heard everything that just went down with my mom and me. I mean, was he even listening to anything on those earbuds, or was he just wearing them so he could collect people’s secrets?
“Eavesdrop much?” I snapped back at him. As the words left my lips, regret filled my stomach. I didn’t mean to take my anger out on him. But I was embarrassed, and the fact that he’d stood in the shadows and overheard me and Mom, well, that frustrated me.
My messed-up family life was mine. It wasn’t something I wanted to share with total strangers. No matter how much my body warmed from his widening smile.
Jet flicked his gaze up to me before returning it to his stick. “Hey, I was here first. Not my fault you decided to air your dirty laundry in front of an audience.” Then he chuckled. He lifted his hand, still clutching the knife, and motioned toward his headphones. “But don’t worry, I didn’t hear a thing. Music.” He shrugged. “I doubt it would matter anyway. You rich people know how to keep your secrets.”
I scoffed. It escaped before I could stop it. But that was the best comeback I could come up with. I was exhausted.
Suddenly feeling like I might pass out, I moved to lean against the bit of wall beside him. I would have picked another spot, but there were dumpsters on either side of us.
I bent my knees and rested my hands on my legs. I took a few deep breaths and didn’t feel any better. It either had to do with the fact that Jet was inches away from me or that the fight with Mom was still reeling in my mind.
Hopefully it was the latter.
“We all have messed up families,” Jet said, like that was supposed to make me feel better.
I glanced over at him. He was studying the stick as he turned it from side to side. He settled on a new spot and started scraping it.
Annoyance nipped at me. “What are you doing here? Can’t you do that”—I waved at his hands—“somewhere else?”
Jet glanced over at me as he continued scraping. “Don’t you know that this particular spot gets the best sunlight in this whole town?” He pointed toward the sky, and, like an idiot, I followed his finger.
It only took a second for Jet to snort and for me to realize that I looked like a complete idiot. I glared at him as I pushed off the wall. I’d brave my nausea if it meant I didn’t have to stand next to him anymore.
“Har har,” I said as I folded my arms. But my curiosit
y was winning out. Why hadn’t he gone home after his dad had been thrown out?
“Trouble in paradise?” I asked and then felt stupid for phrasing it that way. “I mean...”
I forgot what I was saying when he glanced up.
His eyes had turned stormy and his eyebrows furrowed. I had a sinking feeling it had to do with his family and what I had implied. He straightened and chucked the stick into a nearby dumpster.
“I’m sorry,” I said as I stepped closer to him. “I didn’t mean...”
“Listen, Blondie, you don’t know me and I don’t know you. I don’t belong in your world and you don’t belong in mine.” He folded his knife and slipped it into his front pocket. “Let’s not pretend like we come from the same place or that you know anything about me.”
My lips parted as I watched him push the hair that had fallen across his forehead to the side and then shove both hands into his pockets.
I hadn’t meant to upset him. I was just frustrated that he was making snap judgements about me, and I couldn’t help but do the same back.
Before either of us could speak, a deep voice sounded behind us. “Who’s back here?” it growled.
I sighed. It was probably Horace or one of his goons out patrolling for me. I stepped forward to call out to them, but Jet jumped into my line of sight and pulled me over until my back was against the wall. I was caged between his arms.
Confused, I glanced up to see him staring down at me with a begging hint to his gaze.
“I said, who’s back here?” the man grumbled again. His voice was growing louder.
I glanced over Jet’s shoulder and then back up to him, only to find that he was leaning closer. He was so close that our lips were mere inches apart. His chest was so close to mine that I could feel the warmth emanating from his body. I knew I should have at least been concerned about him basically pinning me to the wall, but I wasn’t.
“Go with me on this,” he whispered as he brought his lips closer to mine.
My heart was racing, and my breathing had turned shallow. For some inane reason, I wanted him to close the gap. Call it rebellion. Call it wanting to be kissed by the cutest guy in Atlantic City. I just wanted him to do it.
I raised my gaze to his only to find him studying me. His brows were knit together as his gaze kept slipping down to my lips.
“What are we doing?” I asked, my voice low and breathy.
Jet parted his lips to speak but was interrupted when the man bellowed, “Hey, what are you two doing?”
Before I could glance behind Jet to see who was standing there, he closed the gap in one swift movement. His lips brushed mine, and all thought flew from my mind.
A warm sensation rushed across my skin and exploded through my body. I was too stunned to do anything. I wanted to move, but I couldn’t. Everything about Jet was intoxicating me, from the woody scent of his cologne to the softness of his lips that fit perfectly against mine.
“Get out of here,” the man yelled.
Jet pulled away but kept his face ducked down. “Sorry, sir,” he said.
“This isn’t a make-out spot. It’s a business. Get out of here before I call the police.”
Jet reached down and grabbed my hand. “Hide your face,” he said as he pulled me alongside him.
We kept our heads down as we skirted past the guard and made our way through the alley to the street. He led me around the corner, where he dropped my hand and turned, smiling over at me.
My brain had finally caught up with my surroundings. Still not one hundred percent sure what was going on, I studied him.
“Thanks,” he said as he made his way over to a black motorcycle and grabbed the helmet off the back.
I forced my legs to move as I hurried after him. “What was that?” I asked. My voice came out shaky and unsure. I swallowed hard, hoping to still my nerves.
“You were my getaway car,” he said as he slipped his helmet on and grinned down at me.
Anger coursed through my veins as I stared at him. “What?” I managed.
Jet buckled the strap under his chin. “There was no way that guard would have let me go if it weren’t for you. So, thanks.” He winked as he slung his leg over his bike and pulled it off the kickstand.
I was still trying to figure out what had happened as he pulled his key from his pocket and slipped it in the ignition. I grabbed the handles.
“Where are you going?” I asked. Or more like demanded. There was no way he was slipping out of here after pulling something like that.
Jet stared at me. “I’ve gotta go. If you can’t tell, I’m not welcome around here. Now, will you kindly move?”
I gripped harder on the bars. Call me crazy, but I was tired of people using me for their own gain. It was time someone helped me for a change. “No.”
His eyebrows rose. “No?”
I steadied my feet as I stared him down. “You don’t just get to kiss me and then leave. I’m not that kind of girl.”
He leaned forward, his forearms resting on my hands. “You’re not?”
I scowled at him. “No. And because I helped you out, I expect something in exchange.”
He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “You do?”
Feeling more confident than I had in a very long time, I smiled. “Yes.”
“And what do you want?”
I swallowed. The words I wanted to say stuck in the back of my throat. Not only because he was a complete stranger, but also because it was going to tick my parents off. More than anything else I’d ever done.
But I needed freedom. I needed to get out of the stifling world my parents created for me. I forced all the courage I could muster together and said, “Take me with you.”
Chapter Four
The laugh that escaped Jet’s lips only fueled my frustration. He twisted the front of his motorcycle to try to break my grip. I only held on tighter.
“You’re crazy,” he said as he glanced over at me. “I can’t take you with me. Your parents would call the police. And then what?” He studied me and shook his head.
I stepped closer. I needed this. For all I knew, my parents were shipping me off to Italy in two days. There was no way I could spend the weekend playing hostess to the family that would take me away. I needed to live.
“Please?” I asked, hoping my puppy dog eyes were enough to convince him.
Jet studied me but shook his head. “I don’t even know your name, and you don’t know mine. What if I’m a serial killer?”
Right. He didn’t know that I knew who he was. I was grateful that I hadn’t let it slip before now. The last thing I needed was him reading into the fact that I’d been asking Horace about him.
“I’m Brielle, and you’re...?” I nodded toward him.
He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not telling you. Then we’d be acquaintances.” He turned the key and the motorcycle roared to life. “I’m leaving,” he shouted over the rumble of the engine.
I leaned closer to him so he could hear me. “I’ll pay you,” I said. He had to need money. Money always got people to do things. Just ask my parents.
That seemed to get through to him because he idled the engine as he stared at me.
“How much?”
My heart began to pound inside of my chest. Maybe a part of me had been convinced there was no way I could get him to agree. Now that I was close, adrenaline was rushing through me. “A thousand for the weekend.”
His lips parted as he stared at me. Then he scoffed as he killed the engine. “There’s no way you have that kind of money.”
I pinched my lips together. It would be difficult, but I had an account set up for me by my grandparents. Technically it was for college, but what did that matter anymore? I was apparently a child bride. I doubted Mr. Italian wanted his betrothed to go to school.
“My parents own the Livingstone hotels.” I leaned closer. “I can get the money.”
He let go of the handles as he leaned back. He folded o
ne arm across his chest and rested his other elbow on his hand. “What do you mean weekend? How long do you want to tag along with me?”
I chewed my lip. My mind was racing a mile a minute. The thought that I might have some freedom from my controlling parents was doing strange things to my insides.
“As long as I can. Take me somewhere. Show me parts of Atlantic City that I’ve never been to.” I shrugged like it was no big deal. I’d spent most of my summers here, and yet, I hadn’t done much. I was always at the hotel, doing daughter duties. If I was about to head across the ocean, I wanted to experience everything.
Jet snorted. “Okay. I’m not sure what I can show you. My world is different than yours.”
I shook my head. “Stop saying that. We’re not that different.”
“Right.”
The air fell silent around us as I stared at him. I wanted him to say yes. I was willing it.
He met my gaze and then sighed. “Fine.” He nodded toward the back of his bike. “Get on.”
My knees almost buckled as I stared at his bike. For some reason, I hadn’t thought about actually riding on it. Man, I was an idiot sometimes. “We’re going on that?”
Jet glanced over at me. “Yeah. It’s my only ride.” Then he moved to unbuckle his helmet. “Here,” he said as he shoved it into my hands.
I took it, still not sure if I was totally on board with this. “Is it safe?” I glanced up at him. “How do I know you’re not going to knock me off after you get my money?”
Jet scoffed. Then he shrugged. “Not going to lie. That crossed my mind.” He gave me a teasing smile. I glared at him.
He sighed. “You’re just going to have to trust me. Or don’t come. I don’t really care.”
“You promise me that you’re not going to ditch me the first chance you get?”
He raised his hand like he was swearing in court.
“And you promise that you won’t kill me on that thing?”
He groaned. “It’s the only way I’m going to be able to get you from point a to point b.” He started up the engine again. “But, yes, I promise not to kill you.”
Rule #5: You Can't Trust the Bad Boy (The Rules of Love) Page 3