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Very Twisted Things (Briarcrest Academy #3)

Page 10

by Ilsa Madden-Mills


  A set of leather luggage and a pair of men’s loafers parked next to a pair of girly heels and a purse.

  I paced around her porch, fists clenched. “Who’s in there with you, V?”

  Just then an auburn-haired dude waltzed up behind her and settled his hands on her shoulders, all easy like. But his gaze was hard as nails as he raked over me and obviously found me lacking if the curl of his lip was anything to go by.

  “Violet?” He said her name gently, his voice sandpaper on my brain. His hands smoothed down her arms to lean into her, his nose right in her neck. “You said to hang back, but I’m not so sure, sweetheart.” His lips snarled as he considered me. “Your friend giving you trouble?”

  I wanted to give him trouble. I shoved a hand through my hair, pulling on it at the end, trying to ground myself.

  She shook her head, her eyes still on my face. “No, he’s fine.”

  He didn’t seem convinced as he eyed me with disdain. I sized him up, too. Wearing dress slacks and a cream-colored fisherman’s sweater, he looked like a Ralph Lauren ad. Everything I wasn’t. I flexed my biceps, itching to reach in, pluck him out of the house and put my fist in his face.

  And it was insane. Because she wasn’t my girlfriend, yet here I was, losing my shit.

  “Geoff?” I bit out.

  He nodded, brown eyes burning with a banked anger. “And you must be the infamous rock star next door. I’ve heard about you.” He smirked and glanced at V. She looked back at him, and it was a look I wasn’t part of. It said I know you.

  “Look at me, V,” I said and she raised her eyes to mine.

  “Are you—are you with him?” I asked, part of my brain not wanting to process what was obvious.

  She didn’t speak.

  “It’s not a hard question,” I muttered.

  Geoff crossed his arms. “Explain it to him, Violet,” he said, leaning against the jamb of the door.

  She licked her lips. “We’re friends,” she said.

  “Who used to be lovers,” Geoff said slyly. “In fact, at one point, she was almost my wife.”

  Coldness hit me at my core, and I had to suck in some air. She’d been engaged to this uptight asshole?

  “You went from him to me?” I shook my head and barked out a laugh. “Perfect, just perfect. It’s like my ex all over again.”

  V opened her mouth and then closed it, her eyes shifting from me to him. She settled on him. “Geoff, will you give me a minute?”

  “Sure. I’ll go find us a movie while you take care of this.” He sent me a smirk. “Call out if you need help.” He walked back into her house.

  She turned to me. “Sebastian—” she started, but stopped when I shook my head.

  “Just stop. Nothing you say will make this better. Maybe I deserve seeing you with him after ditching you for Blair. I know we aren’t anything to each other.” I exhaled heavily, struggling to let my anger go. “Maybe—maybe I’m just relieved.”

  “Relieved?”

  “You lied to me.”

  “Sebastian, wait—”

  “No, you wait. I hate liars,” I ground out. “It’s why I’m brutally honest. Liars rip your guts out when the truth is always the best damn answer. I gave you truth. I told you what I was about, yet, you—you chose to lie. All you had to say was that your ex was in your house, only you didn’t.”

  “I didn’t know he was coming. He just showed up when I got home.” She took a step toward me but stopped when I backed off the porch.

  “Liars always have good excuses, V.”

  “You’re being unfair.” She spread her hands apart. “It’s been a year and a half since I’ve seen him. I had no idea—”

  I held my hand up. The television had clicked on from inside the house, a stark reminder that he was waiting for her. I sent her a nod. “Goodbye, V. It sounds like your fiancé is waiting for you. I’ll not keep you.”

  With my chest aching for some unknown fucking reason, I staggered off in the grass between our houses.

  I WOKE UP to sunlight streaming in my window and a wet kiss.

  Monster licked my face, and I groaned. “You need to eat some breath biscuits, baby girl.” I flipped over and buried my head under the covers.

  “Good morning, Basty,” said a cloyingly sweet voice.

  What the hell? Foreboding hit. I jerked my eyes open and came face-to-face with Blair Storm, who promptly leaned over and kissed my surprised lips.

  I scrambled up off the bed.

  Had I? Did we?

  I scrubbed my face, racking my brain to piece together what had happened last night. Left V’s house in a jealous rage—check. Drank most of a fifth of Jack—check. Stumbled off to bed—check.

  So where did she come from?

  She propped herself up on her elbows and the sheet fell down to her waist. Her huge tits spilled out, but my cock never even twitched.

  “How did you get in here?” I said, whipping around the room. I dressed in jeans and a band shirt.

  She threw a pillow at me. “Hey, jerk, you made the booty call, not me.”

  I did?

  My mouth felt like a cotton ball was stuffed in it. I scratched my head. “Hey, um, did we … have sex?”

  She sighed and laid back down in the bed on her side, posing herself. She draped her hair over one of her melons. “You passed out, I’m sad to say.” She sent me a petulant look. “We’ve had some fun times together. Is it really just pretend for you?”

  “Yes. We’ve had this conversation. This is business, Blair.”

  “Well, I want more. Seeing you with that horrid girl made me realize something. I have feelings for you. Like serious. My heart actually ached when you took her in your arms and walked away from me.”

  “Your pride was hurt. You don’t really care about me.” She was too vain and self-absorbed to care about anyone but herself.

  She clutched her throat like I’d hurt her and her eyes watered. “How—how can you say that? I love you, Sebastian.”

  My mouth gaped. She’d say anything—do anything for her career.

  Was I much better?

  “You have no idea what love is,” I said softly. Love is what Leo and Nora had. Love is what my parents had. Real and true love is what I wanted—someday.

  I headed to the bathroom and swallowed down some Tylenol. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I looked like shit, and my mind automatically went to the reason. What was V doing now? Was she waking up in Geoff’s arms this morning? Was he touching her in all the places I’d dreamed about?

  Blair padded through the doorway. Nude. “Get dressed, Blair.”

  She ignored me. “What’s for breakfast?”

  I splashed cold water on my face. “Uh, we don’t really have anything. I suggest you go home to eat.”

  “We can go to Java and Me?”

  I sighed. Fuck.

  “You know, maybe I don’t love you like I said,” she admitted as she peered at her reflection and checked the waddle under her neck.

  “You don’t say.”

  She shrugged. “But, we could take our relationship further—at least for the press.”

  I tensed. “How?”

  “Like an engagement. Wouldn’t it be fun to go ring shopping? Next thing you know everyone will be looking for my baby bump.”

  She was batshit crazy. “Blair, that’s not a good idea right now.”

  “Why? Because you got the hots for your neighbor?”

  “No.”

  “Can I at least borrow some clothes? Mine are wrinkled,” she snapped.

  I sighed and tossed her some athletic shorts with a drawstring and a shirt. “Look, I have a massive headache, and all I want to do right now is get some coffee. Why don’t you come downstairs when you’re done up here and we’ll talk.”

  She sighed. “You may have already ruined your chance for the movie last night. We need to get behind this and make an appearance so everyone sees we’re still together.”

  I groaned. I d
idn’t want to pose for any more fake pictures.

  “Don’t let your neighbor ruin what you’ve been working on for weeks,” she said as she eased up next to me and slipped her hands inside my jeans to cup me. “You need someone like me. Who wants the same things you do.”

  “Yeah?” It was hard to think, especially when she fell to her knees, pushed my jeans down and took me in her mouth.

  I got hard and closed my eyes, but it was V’s face that popped in my head. Fuck. I felt sick. I pulled away from Blair and tucked myself back in. I wasn’t going there with her. Not when V was the girl I wanted.

  She wiped her mouth and stood, a calculating look in her eyes. “I don’t get on my knees for everyone, Sebastian.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Not in the mood for your drama, so step back.”

  She relented, pouting. “Fine. You told me last night we’d spend the day together. Are you changing your mind on that too?”

  I began to have my doubts and made a note to check my phone to see if I’d even called her in the first place. She was a major manipulator, one of the main reasons I did my best to keep her at arm’s length—except for that one time.

  But if I wanted that movie …

  “No engagement rings,” I snarled.

  She shrugged and gave me a peck on the cheek. “As long as we’re together.”

  Great. This day was going to pass as slow as a kidney stone.

  “Like a phoenix, I wanted to be reborn. Forged in fire. Strong.”

  —from the journal of Violet St. Lyons

  THE NEXT DAY, Geoff and I headed to a beauty salon situated near Hollywood and Vine. It was called The Black Swan, and it screamed modern hip. I dug the vibe right away as we walked in, taking in the graffiti-style art and eclectic clientele.

  “Don’t you think you’d have better luck at a place in Beverly Hills?” Geoff said as we got an eyeful of the statuesque cross-dressing beauty at the sign-in desk.

  “This place comes highly recommended by Mila.” I nodded my head at one of the clients getting her hair cut. “Cyndi Lauper. See, classy.”

  He arched a brow. “About as much class as a box of pink Zinfandel.” He teased, but I sensed the underlying tension. Things were strained between us, which wasn’t surprising considering he’d shown up at my door last night in a taxi and asked to stay the night. Part of me had been glad to see him—surprisingly thrilled—but another side of me wondered why he was here.

  Then Sebastian had knocked on my door. He’d acted as if me lying about Geoff had hurt him somehow, yet this morning on my run I’d seen Blair leaving his house. I flinched, remembering how she’d strolled out of his house in what must have been Sebastian’s clothes. I’d darted behind a bush and hunkered down, watching as he opened her Porsche’s car door for her and then stood there as she drove away. He was the liar.

  “You okay?” Geoff asked, looking at me as we walked to the sign-in desk. “Your face is green.”

  “I’m fine,” I said. But I wasn’t. Part of me was nursing a broken heart, and I didn’t even understand it. “Anyway, Mila says this is the place to go when you want something unique.”

  He grunted. “A venereal disease?”

  “Be nice. Sebastian and Spider get their hair done here, too.”

  He gaped at me. “Are you kidding me? I’ve read up on these guys. They’re your typical bad boy rockers, especially Spider.”

  I groaned. “Don’t believe everything you read, Geoff. I’ve met them both, and while Spider does have some rough edges, I sense a good guy. Sebastian is incredibly talented. He’s made a living out of his music—all without a record label. You have to respect that.”

  His smile slipped and his eyes narrowed. “You sound like his cheerleader. It’s annoying.”

  “Stop being a jealous jerk. It doesn’t suit you.” I nodded my head at a Hispanic guy with a Mohawk. “That’s Steve, the guy Mila got me an emergency appointment with.”

  He brushed imaginary lint from his shirt and sent Steve a lofty look. “I’d much rather see you at a luxury spa, preferably in Manhattan.” He took my hand. “Come on, there’s still time to get out of here. We can get on a plane and be in New York by dinner. I’ll even take you to Vesper’s—that Thai place you loved? It’s still there, just waiting.”

  A block from my parents’ Upper East Side apartment, Vesper’s had been my favorite place. We’d met Geoff and his parents there several times over the years.

  “First off, I don’t fly, and secondly, I have a hair appointment, so shut your fancy face and come with me.”

  He laughed. “Okay.”

  The receptionist led me over to Steve, who looked ominous with his six-inch Mohawk and ear gauges. Tattoos of skulls were splattered up his muscled arms.

  I sat down in the chair, met Steve, and we talked about my hair. He snapped his fingers and two young girls scurried to stand on either side of him. “Ladies, this is V, a friend of the Vital Rejects. She wants a complete reboot. What do you think?”

  Their eyes brightened.

  “Ah, sexy Spiderman with the blue hair …”

  “… black widow, come bite me …”

  “… pierced his nipple once …”

  I cocked an eyebrow at their excitement. “I take it they’re good customers?”

  They’d continued.

  “And Sebastian … dirty talking boy …”

  “… god of thunder … be my hammer …”

  “… best hair in town …”

  I laughed as Steve hushed the girls, who erupted into giggles and left—something about getting foils and color.

  “They’re a bunch of sluts.” He grinned good-naturedly. “You with either of those dudes? I promise it’s all in good fun.”

  Geoff had stiffened at his question as he flipped through a magazine in a seat a few feet away. It was obvious from how territorial he’d acted last night and from the flowers he’d sent me—he wanted another try with me.

  The receptionist came back and poured us two glasses of champagne and set them on a small table next to my chair.

  “Let’s make a toast,” I said to Geoff as Steve went to the back to check on the color girls.

  He set down his magazine and strolled over. I took him in, my eyes lingering on his designer jeans and golf shirt. He’d bulked up in the past two years, and it didn’t go unnoticed. His brown eyes glittered at my attention. I blushed. Caught.

  “What are we toasting to?” he asked as he handed me a glass. I inhaled his aftershave, a spicy blend I’d bought for him on special occasions. I felt flattered he still wore it.

  I nibbled on my lip. “I don’t know. Hope? Love? A good haircut?”

  He took my glass from me and set it down. “Forget the toast. Let’s talk.”

  I nodded. Steve was still in the back.

  He sighed. “First off, I would have come out here sooner, but you weren’t ready. I gave you time, and as soon as I finished undergrad this past semester, the only thing I could think of was seeing you.”

  I recalled the socialites. “I’ve noticed you haven’t been lonely.”

  He shrugged. “I’m no monk. And judging by the sexual tension between you and rocker boy, you’re no nun.”

  “I haven’t slept with him—but I wanted to.”

  Pain flashed across his face, but he seemed to readjust as he leaned down and touched my cheek. “You left me eighteen months ago because you needed more time to grieve. I rushed you—I see that now. You packed your bags and walked out of my life, but I’ve never forgotten you.” He took in a quick breath. “I—I want you back.”

  “You want the old me back.” I couldn’t be the person he wanted.

  “Let me get to know the new you,” he said softly, and kissed me on the lips. With gentleness, his lips parted mine, his tongue tasting me. The kiss took me by surprise, yet I fell into it and kissed him back, part of me yearning for my past and someone who had loved me—still loved me?

  “At least that part of us ha
sn’t changed,” he whispered against my lips.

  “I’m a college drop-out with a tapping problem,” I murmured.

  “You can still go back.”

  “You think the Manhattan School of Music would have me?”

  A fire lit in his eyes. “I’ll hand in the application myself. Better yet, I’ll call up the chancellor and request a meeting. You were a prodigy, Violet. They’d be nuts to not let you in.”

  I tried to picture me sitting in a classroom now. It seemed far-fetched, plus I’d burned bridges when I left. Friends I hadn’t called back. Professors I’d ignored.

  “Come back to New York,” he implored.

  I sighed. “I have the orphanage to think of. I haven’t been as active as I should have, but that’s going to change. I have a gala to plan.”

  He grabbed my hand. “Open another one in New York.”

  Perhaps.

  But something—or someone—was holding me back.

  And then there were all the memories.

  My stomach knotted, and I closed my eyes briefly and then met his intense ones. “Geoff, my last night in New York, I stood on the ledge of my apartment building for two hours in the freezing cold debating if I was going to jump or not.”

  His eyes flared. “God, I’m sorry. Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  I stared at my hands. “You didn’t want to know how far I’d cracked. You say you want to get to know me, but the thing is, you may not like the darkness.”

  Emotion worked his face. “You’re my heart, Violet, since the moment I saw you. I can’t give up on you.”

  And me? I still loved him—in the way you’d love an old movie or a favorite quilt.

  Needing a topic change, I picked up our glasses and handed him his. “My parents named me after a comet, so let’s toast to that—to stepping out of the shadows and shining bright.”

  “I say we throw a toast to us in there as well. To new beginnings.”

  I inhaled sharply at his words, at the heaviness of them. Sebastian had liked new beginnings too.

  Not knowing what to say, I held my glass up and we clinked them together.

  “My heart is a reckless thing, willing to say or do anything to get the reaction it wants.”

 

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