by Ivy Fox
I lie to myself by thinking that this is for her well-being as much as it is for ours. Pembroke is a vicious place that eats up the weak when there’s blood in the water. But it won’t compare to my brother’s retaliation if some idiot tries to get with Snow. Not even the poor schmuck’s own mother will be able to identify his mangled body, and that’s me being optimistic.
The rest of our day is spent locked in Ash’s bedroom playing the new hack n’ slash zombie game and trying hard not to talk about the elephant in the room. We are interrupted by Rome’s knock on the door, advising he’ll be driving us. He also informs us that Elle and Snow have left already, so we get our asses in gear and prepare for whatever this night has in store.
“I thought you said you were bringing a date?” Rome asks when we get in the car, but instead of giving him Kim’s address, I tell him to head to Tribeca where the party is being held.
“He is. He’s meeting her there,” Ash responds, trying to find some cool tunes to get us in the partying mood.
Lately, he’s been into female singers with deep, vibrant voices and a whole lot of attitude. When he lands on Bishop Briggs’ track “Baby,” he slides back arrogantly into his seat like she’s singing about his smug face.
“Classy. Anyone I know?” Rome continues to prod.
“Kim Carothers,” I groan, hating the name on my lips.
Not in a million years would I ever date a girl like Kim. Sure, she’s hot, but she’s one of Addison’s frenemies. And any girl who spends time kissing Addison’s ass while trash-talking behind her back is not the kind I like to affiliate with. It just means she’s shallow, malicious, and has a green-eyed devil living inside of her—too many cons to get me interested.
“Good. She’s easy and doesn’t need a phone call afterward,” Rome informs, revealing he’s not as picky as I am. Knowing Rome, he probably just fucked her so it would get back to Addison.
“Ain’t that the truth,” Ash bellows out in agreement.
“You guys are the very definition of dicks. You know that, right?” I scold, pressing my fingers to my temple, already dreading this night.
Rome flips me the bird and throws his attention to the brother riding shotgun.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Yeah, you. Are you meeting up with anyone?”
“Look at me, Rome. Have I ever needed to dial beforehand for pussy?”
“Cocky bastard,” Rome laughs out proudly.
“That’s like the pot calling the kettle black,” I venture from behind him, and this time both fuckers flip me off.
When we finally get to Trevor’s penthouse, I’m so on edge that I feel like a live wire. My eyes immediately search the crowd for platinum hair, but I’m met with strawberry-blonde locks instead. Apparently, my date was keeping her eyes fixed on the elevator doors, eagerly awaiting my arrival.
Before I can make a move to reach her and say hello, Ash strolls past me and begins to point at some giggling girls with red solo cups in their hands.
“You and…. you,” Ash yells out at two of them. I roll my eyes in disgust by the way they rush over to him, each grabbing one of his arms.
“It ain’t cocky when it’s true,” he winks back to me over his shoulder and enters the party as if everyone was waiting for his arrival.
“This should be fun,” Rome chuckles next to me.
Tonight will be a lot of things.
Fun, though, I highly doubt it.
Chapter 20
Holland
“You’re nervous. Don’t be, okay? I’ve got you,” Elle hushes beside me, giving my hand a light squeeze.
Ever since I met her, she has been nothing but a friendly and supportive force by my side. It reminds me so much of Candy; how she is comfortable in her own skin and wants the people around her to feel the same. I thought only loneliness and pain awaited me in New York, but Elle has been the one good thing to come out of the move.
“I’m that transparent, huh?” I joke, hoping to shake off my jitters and not be a burden to her tonight.
“Just a little.” She smiles back. “Is this your first high school party?”
“No. My best friend took me to one before, when I was fifteen,” I admit solemnly, recalling how I had made one of the worst decisions in my life that night.
“By the frown on your face, I’m guessing it didn’t go as well as you expected.”
“No, not really,” I confess, hoping my expression dissuades her from probing for any details.
That night I had been lost and wanted to feel in control by pretending I was someone I’m not. I learned the hard way that, no matter how low a person feels, you’re still one bad decision away from feeling even worse.
“Let’s change that, shall we? Tonight you’re going to let your hair down, dance, and have some fun. I want to show off my new sister.” She kids, her golden eyes glowing.
My apprehension disappears as I become fixated on how the light hits her eyes, recalling the identical whiskey-colored jewels that held a different tint to them under twinkling lights. Although her older brother has the same bright, amber glow, it astounds me how different both shades can be. Elle’s is warm and soothing, bubbling with energy and confidence, while Rome’s is cold, calculating, and secretive.
But not always.
Last night, when his eyes lingered on my naked flesh, there was a tiny moment where he let the cool, guarded veil fall, revealing a burning fire ready to scorch everything it touched. I wouldn’t have noticed if those flames weren’t directed at me—ready to light-up every cell in my body with just one look. My current nervous restlessness is replaced with the same confusion I felt last night.
Roman Grayson is, without a doubt, one of the most arrogant, narcissistic, and repulsive men I have ever met. Yet for one brief second, I felt my body responding to his in a way I never expected it to. I want to chalk it up to a lapse in hormonal judgment—or a moment of insanity on my part—for reading something between us that couldn’t have been possible.
It’s obvious I must have transferred my craving of affection from the twins onto someone who bares their resemblance. That’s the only plausible reason I can come up with to explain such a reaction. But Rome is nothing like Ollie or Ash. They have a heart, while Rome is as empty as they come.
“How about we get ourselves a drink?” Elle suggests, interrupting my foolish reverie, and leads me into the kitchen. There, we find a bunch of kids gathered, drinking and snacking on all sorts of junk I’ll never be allowed to have.
The sugar and salt in any one of the beverages or snacks available would cause me to have an instant flare-up, creating a butterfly-shaped rash across my cheeks and on the bridge of my nose. But that would be minimal compared to the aggravation of the pain in my joints, not to mention the harm it would do to my already weak kidney. As much as I’d like to grab a few nachos and down it with something harder than orange juice, my body would pay the price for such an impulse.
“Hey! There’s my girl! What’s your poison tonight, Elle?” asks a dark-blond wearing a Pembroke jersey, clearly indicating his jock status. His grin is so wide I can probably count every pearly white.
His smile looks genuine, clearly enjoying himself, as he pumps beer into a red solo cup and hands it off to a guy wearing a similar shirt sitting on the counter next to him. While the blond looks happy to see Elle, his dark-haired, tattooed friend looks as if the mere sight of her has just ruined his night. Not impressed with his intimidating glower at my friend, I feel my shoulders square, ready to protect Elle in any way I can.
“You got anything stronger than that?” Elle responds, looking at the keg like it insulted her personally.
I don’t miss how her once-cheerful features have turned to stone, looking bored and uninterested. Something tells me it has nothing to do with the beer and more to do with the guy who is wearing a scowl on his face like a badge of honor. What concerns me most, though, i
s his feral gaze locked dead-center on Elle.
“Beer isn’t good enough for you, princess?” he rasps, the two empty pools he has for eyes ogling Elle’s petite frame, clearly displaying a desire to swallow her up and chew her to shreds.
“What can I say? I have refined tastes,” Elle responds, slanting her eyes at him. “Not that I expect someone like you to understand.”
I’ve never seen Elle act so snobbishly before, but this guy, whoever he is, seems to bring out the worst in her. He lets out a scoff, seemingly disgusted with her reply, while she, in turn, raises her brow at him in defiance. He licks his lower lip, returning her challenged glare while biting his pierced tongue at the corner of his mouth. This should increase his menacing air, but frankly, it’s making some girls on the other side of the kitchen swoon with lust.
“Now, now, kids. Play nice. We haven’t even started the school year yet, so don’t make me give you your first time out.” The blond jokes lightly.
“Whatever. Give the princess her booze and let’s go find some company that isn’t so uptight,” Mr. Dark and Sexy replies, jumping off the counter and revealing an impressive six-foot-something, brawny physique. He reminds me of a more sinister version of Asher with the number of exposed tattoos—two arm sleeves covered in ink plus the back of his neck, bearing some sort of elaborated cross. But the blatant similarity to Asher has to be the loud, bad-boy attitude this guy is so insistent in showing off.
“Easy there, Saint. Elle hasn’t even introduced us to her new friend. I’m Chad, by the way, this little firecracker’s best friend. And the asshole beside me is Santiago, but everyone calls him Saint.”
“Devil would be more appropriate,” Elle mumbles under her breath, but not low enough to prevent Saint from hearing.
He draws closer to the kitchen island, which is separating him from his target, and leans against its edge, his long, colorful arms crossed over his taut chest.
“Trust me, princess. You couldn’t handle my flames,” he mocks harshly, his tone filled with loathing.
Having had enough with this guy’s intimidating ways, I place myself in front of Elle and reach my hand out to the big bully who’s trying to stare her down.
“Hi, my name is Holland. Santiago, is it?” I ask evenly, my spine ramrod straight, showing him I’m not one bit amused that he’s pestering my friend.
He looks me up and down with the same abhorrent glare in his eye. But compared to the way he stares at Elle, it doesn’t hold an inch of the same animosity.
“Whatever. I’m out,” Saint slurs, picking up a bottle of Jack and walking in the direction of the living room where the majority of the party is taking place.
“Don’t mind him. I know his momma taught him some manners, but I guess it didn’t take. Now for more pressing matters; are you the reason why my girl has been ghosting me for the last two days? Seriously, Elle, didn’t Judge Grayson teach you how to share your toys?” Chad teases, walking over to Elle. He grabs her by the waist and lifts her small frame into his arms.
I watch Elle giggle, suddenly back to her former self, while Chad’s green eyes light up with pure devotion for the girl in his embrace. I wonder if she even realizes that her so-called best friend is harboring a major crush on her.
“If you let me down for two seconds, I’ll introduce you to her,” she laughs out as he places her feet back on solid ground.
“Holland, this is Chad. He’s been my best friend since we were both in diapers. Chad, this is my new big sister. Hot, isn’t she?”
“Elle!” I croak out, embarrassed by her introduction, but Chad seems to be immune to it, apparently used to his friend’s bluntness.
“Pleasure, Holland,” he says, pulling my hand and placing a tender kiss on it. “Elle has been excited about you joining the family. I couldn’t get her to shut up about it. So glad I can finally put a face to the name.”
“Hey.” She slaps his chest. “What do you expect? It’s not like I have a lot of girlfriends.”
“And whose fault is that?” he counters with an all-knowing simper.
“It’s not mine! It’s one-hundred percent my brothers’ fault. Every girl I took home either ended up in their bed or was just using me to try and get there. Don’t blame me for pulling the plug and crossing the entire female persuasion off my friend list. At least with guy friends, I know they are actually there for me, and not to slide under my brothers at the first chance they get,” she defends, not knowing her words are making my chest tighten just by thinking about how many girls used her to get closer to the twins.
Did they hook up with anyone when we were together? Oh, God. Just the thought is making me nauseous.
“You know, some of those guys could be into them, too. I know a few who wouldn’t mind having a look at Rome without his shirt on,” Chad instigates with a loud belly laugh.
“So, let them. I’m all for fulfilling their eye-candy quota. At least I know their friendship is more sincere than the girls who’ve played me.”
“Well, it looks like your prayers have been answered. You gained a sister and a girlfriend. It’s probably the only kryptonite that will ensure your big brothers keep it in their pants,” Chad chuckles out, pretending to punch Elle’s chin.
“Ew, gross!” Elle laughs, but I’m not finding their back-and-forth banter amusing.
Actually, as they go on and on, I’m feeling more uncomfortable by the minute. I have to tell Elle about the twins and me as soon as possible. Otherwise, I might risk losing her, too.
“Oh, what do you know. Talk about the devil and his mistress appears,” Chad whispers conspiringly in Elle’s ear, nudging her to look behind her.
Involuntarily I do the same, hoping to catch on to what they’re cryptically talking about.
“God, I hate that woman,” Elle seethes, grabbing the solo cup full of beer from Chad’s hands and taking a big gulp. It seems like all that talk about not liking beer was only for the benefit of Chad’s friend.
My eyes scan the crowd, but since I don’t know anybody, I’m unable to pinpoint who exactly Elle dislikes so much. Picking up on my disorientation on where I should be looking, Chad places one arm over my shoulders and the other over Elle’s.
“Okay, Holland, I’m about to give you a crash course on Pembroke’s biggest gossip. You see the girl who just came in? Black hair, tiny, black dress, and red lips that can be seen from space? That girl right there is none other than Addison Hurst—queen bee to all us mere mortals at Pembroke High. Every girl wants to be in her good graces, and every guy wants to jump her bones. But don’t be fooled. That girl is one of the meanest bitches you’ll ever encounter. She can act nice and sweet to your face and then trash your reputation with a snap of her fingers. If you can, stay clear of her. However, I doubt you’ll be able to, since you’re living with my girl Elle, here.”
“Why is that?” I ask when I finally pinpoint who Chad is referring to.
“She used to be Rome’s girlfriend, but he ditched her ass when he found out she was cheating on him with some older guy. My money is on a teacher from school, but some think it was a college dude she met online. Not real clear on the facts since Rome isn’t the conversing type and the twins won’t budge on giving me the intel. All I know is they were hot and heavy for a few years and were Pembroke’s golden couple until she broke his heart. I never trusted her to begin with, so I say good riddance,” Elle spits out, still resentful of the girl who caused her brother pain.
Without being too apparent, I take a closer look at the girl in question. She’s just as tall as me, but while I’m a bit on the athletic side, Addison’s body is all curves—and by the way she sways amongst the crowd, she knows it, too. She’s absolutely stunning, and it’s easy to see how Rome could have been enamored with her.
“She’s still in high school?” I ask, wondering if I misheard Chad somehow. No way can she still attend Pembroke High. She’s all woman and looks far too mature to be in high school.
Elle chuckles in her hand, turning her sparkling eyes over to me.
“Oh, yeah, she’s still in high school. She might have the bod, but she lacks the brains. She can have a calculating mind for everything cruelly malicious, but she fails to use the same intelligence on academics. She’s flunked twice already and, by my count, she’ll turn twenty before she’s able to graduate.”
My jaw is still firmly placed on the ground with all this new drama that Pembroke High holds, when Chad jumps in front of us, gaining our full attention.
“Okay, enough bashing the heartless Pembroke queen. Let’s get our party on! You ladies want to join me on the dance floor? I should warn you though, I have some freaking stellar moves,” Chad boasts with a wink.
“No, you don’t. You suck! But I’m all for watching you make a jackass out of yourself. It never gets old,” Elle chimes in, taking me by the hand and leading me into the crowded living room.
As we walk into the room, my paranoia starts playing tricks on me, thinking the hushed whispers and stolen glances as we pass are somehow connected to me. I’m sure maybe some are, but it must be because I’m a new face amongst a familiar crowd. If this is a welcome-back-to-school party, then everyone here has probably known each other for years, so crashing this party without an invite is bound to raise some brows. Once we reach the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the Manning’s lavish living room, kids are too absorbed in their dancing to pay us any mind.
Elle wasn’t kidding though. Chad is an awful dancer, but too fun to watch. Actually, Elle and Chad’s dynamics are pure entertainment, with their banter and familiar teasing.
For the first time since arriving at this party, I feel like the boulder on my shoulders has been lifted and I truly start to enjoy myself. I begin to wonder if coming to New York City wasn’t the worst decision after all, but an hour into the party, I’m reminded of how wrong I was.
Right behind a hysterically laughing Elle, is Kim, one of the girls I met yesterday back at the school. She is dancing with her arms strapped around, none other than, my Ollie. The way they are both dancing and grinding against each other feels like thorns pricking my eyes—threatening either blood or angry tears to make their way down my face.