We stared at each other, somewhat deflated at the sight of our front porch covered with bags of sand.
“Who was in charge of ordering for the party?” I asked.
“Johnny B, I think.” Mark seemed unsure of his response. “Dude’s a moron.”
I didn’t disagree. In retrospect, I should have finalized the details myself, but I’d decided to delegate some of my responsibilities to my younger brothers. After all, I would be graduating at the end of the year, and someone needed to fill my role as president.
“Doesn’t matter now. It can sit out here until the party,” I said, taking the clipboard from the deliveryman. “I hope the Alphas don’t fuck with our shit like last time.”
“They even think about it, I’ll be crackin’ skulls,” Hunter interjected, smashing his fists together. “I hate those assholes.”
Mark scowled at the house next door. “Preppy fucks.”
Mark was an ass, but I’d let it slide more than most. I had a soft side when it came to him, sort of a hard-knocks pass.
After high school, my family had moved from a row house in South Philly to just over the bridge in South Jersey. Mark and I had grown up together. We’d first met while playing Wallball behind the Italian bakery around the corner from our houses, the same location where we’d later plot all of our best schemes. As the years had passed, we’d created our own rackets, like selling mix tapes and cigarettes, anything to turn a quick profit.
Mark had a tough life with his father, who was in and out of jail for various misdemeanors. And his mom never stayed sober long enough to feed him or his younger siblings. My dad had spent the first five years of my life in the joint, leaving Ma to raise three rowdy boys. I didn’t remember his absence, never felt the impact of losing a parent.
At first, Hunter hadn’t fit into our equation. Not with his perfect white teeth and trust fund that could buy up all the houses on my old block. We had taken Hunter under our wings during our sophomore year, teaching him the ropes of fraternity life. He lived in some mansion in Greenwich, Connecticut, with the rest of the rich dicks. As the son of a professional football player, he never knew the struggle we’d had as kids. But his dad was an asshole, so we all had that in common.
As planned, we had enough sand to fill our house and front yard. I signed the delivery receipt and handed the clipboard to the deliveryman.
I loved our annual beach party, but dragging sand through the house had proven to be a real bitch. We’d end up cleaning it off the floors for days, but half-naked chicks in bikinis or less made it worthwhile. And the boys agreed.
I sat on a lounge chair and stared out at Greek Row. One after another, brick Victorian houses with long porches spanned the street. Even while I was under the cover of the awning, the sun beat down on me. We were experiencing an end-of-summer heat wave that felt ten times hotter in the city.
Hunter and Mark sat in the chairs across from me.
“I need you guys to track down Izzie and find out where she’s going later.”
Surprise registered most on Mark, who looked as though he were going to be sick. “You’re shittin’ me, right? She already told you.”
I glared at him. “Trust me, she won’t be at Mickey’s. Will you do it or not?”
Hunter sat next to me, his chair hitting the wall as he sank into it. “I can text the chick Bianca shares a room with. I saw Izzie talking to her before, and they live in the same dorm. What’s her name? Betty, Hailey, Brittney—shit, I can’t remember.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his address book.
I propped my elbow on the edge of the chair, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. “Just make sure you tell her not to open her mouth. No one is to know about this.”
One thing about these two, they were loyal. I trusted very few people with my family secrets, and Hunter and Mark were good at keeping their mouths shut. They understood the concept of complete and total silence.
“I want to know what room she’s in, where she eats—whatever you can find out.”
Mark hunched over, the chair creaking beneath his weight. He had the frame of a hockey player, except he played baseball on scholarship at Strick U. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this. She’s just a girl. I mean, she’s hot as fuck, but again, bro, she’s just a girl.”
I looked him square in the eyes, but I didn’t answer him.
He shifted nervously and turned his head toward Hunter. “All right, fine. I think Bianca shares a room with that girl Bonnie I hooked up with after winter break last year.”
Hunter looked up from his phone. “Bonnie! That’s it.” Then, he started scrolling through his Contacts again.
I looked at Mark, who leaned over to grab beer from the cooler next to him. He handed one to each of us.
I cracked open the can and sat back in my chair as I chugged down half the contents. “I’d ask if you had Bonnie’s number, but I’m sure that’s a no.”
I laughed because Mark never kept a number under any circumstances. At least I would take the number even if I had no intention to call. That seemed more decent than a flat-out refusal.
“I got it,” Hunter called out.
He rambled off the number to Mark, who made the call.
Awkward did not begin to describe the conversation between Mark and Bonnie. At one point, I cringed from the brutal sounds coming through the speaker. Whatever tongue-lashing she was giving him, I would make up for it later. I looked out for all my boys, especially when they risked so much to help me.
Mark glared at me. “Thanks for that, Luca. Now, we’re stuck inviting Bonnie and her roommate—who, by the way, looks like a fucking troll—to our party. Not a good look when we’re trying to steal pledges from the Alpha house.” He shoved the phone back in his pocket and sucked in a deep breath. “Silvia’s meeting Izzie at the SAC for dinner around six.”
I glanced down at my watch, the gold band gleaming in the sunlight. Everyone ate at the Student Activities Center aka the SAC, but I didn’t expect a Rinaldi to sit with the common folk. That gave me three hours to shower, nap, and win this girl over. “Thanks.” I pulled myself up from the chair and slapped Mark on the shoulder. “You guys feel like eating at the SAC tonight?”
“Yeah, sure,” Hunter said, his typical response to everything. “I can always eat.”
He’d gained about thirty pounds since last year. His six-pack had waved good-bye, replaced by a beer gut. Even girls on campus were talking about him, but that didn’t seem to slow him down. Linemen were big by nature, so a little cushion wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
“I’m down,” Mark said, following me into the house. “You sure you want to bother with this chick?”
I stopped when I reached the landing to the second floor and held on to the banister. “What do you think? She’s the Holy Grail, bro.”
Most of the guys on campus, my brothers included, would give their right nut for one night with Izzie. I’d been waiting for a shot with her for years, and I wasn’t about to waste this opportunity.
Mark threw his hands out at his sides, as if saying, I don’t know. “You were a mess last time, Luca. When your families stopped talking to each other, I thought you were going to lose your shit. You were heartbroken over Izzie when we were kids.”
“That’s why I’m not letting her go this time.”
He ran a hand through his spiky auburn hair. “That girl is nothing but trouble. I’m just trying to look out for you. Do what you want, but we both know how this is going to end.”
I reached for my door at the end of the hallway and turned until I was facing Mark. “I’m taking a shower. Meet me downstairs later, if you wanna come.”
I thought I heard Mark sigh, and then his door closed.
Now that I’d made up my mind about Izzie, I couldn’t turn back. We’d met years ago, long before college, at a fundraiser our families attended, and even as a little girl, Izzie was gorgeous. She obviously forgot about it. Either that, or
she preferred to believe we weren’t cut from the same designer fabric.
I had to see if she would give me a chance. What was I thinking? She’d yelled at me one time, and I was already stalking her. I did not stalk women, especially not to get laid.
But Izzie was so much more than that. She deserved better than my usual treatment.
I opened the door, raced upstairs to the renovated attic I called home, and threw myself on my bed. The silky duvet Ma had sent over felt like sleeping on a cloud. I imagined Izzie next to me, her sweat-glistened naked body curled between my sheets. Damn, I had it bad for a girl who couldn’t stand the sight of me.
To continue Izzie and Luca’s story, purchase Corrupt Me here, and it’s free on Kindle Unlimited.
I always have such a hard time writing the acknowledgments for my books because I have so many people I want to thank for making my dream a reality and for standing beside me through all of it.
First, I’d like to thank my family for their patience and support. I know I miss a lot of dinners and family gatherings to meet deadlines and take part in author functions. I promise, this is all for my books and not because I would rather sit in the house, attached to my laptop, even if I am one of the most introverted people you will ever meet.
I refuse to publish a book without my beta readers’ stamp of approval. I have three beta readers who are my friends who help me make my books better when I’m too engrossed to see the flaws. Donna, Payton, and Amanda—you guys are amazing. I’m so happy we met through book blogging and became friends in the process. I couldn’t do this without you guys. Love you, Beta Babes!
Beta readers are a vital part of an author’s team, but a good editor is even more important. I’m putting my trust in that person when I hand over my manuscript, and I value my editor’s opinion most of all. I could never publish a book without my editor and interior designer, Jovana Shirley at Unforeseen Editing. Never, ever. Jovana, I rely so much on you to help me spot all the mistakes I’ve made—because we know I make a lot of them—and I couldn’t see doing this without you. Good editors are hard to find, and you are the absolute best! Thank you so much for everything!
Sara, my friend and assistant, thank you for rocking the shit out of being a PA and for taking the book community by storm. I’m so glad we met by chance and that your love of my books is what brought us together. Thanks, girl!
A huge thank you goes out to my publicist Emily Smith-Kidman at Social Butterfly PR for having my back and making my book launches a success. And thank you to Nina Grinstead at Social Butterfly for all your help with my ads. I also want to thank my amazing cover designer, Michele Catalano at Michele Catalano Creative for taking me on as a client on short notice and for making the perfect cover for this book.
Most importantly, thank you to the bloggers and readers for your support. I am so grateful to have such a wonderful team and amazing fans. Thank you!
Jillian Quinn loves Mafia men, sports, bad boys, dirty-talkers, strong female characters, and books with plenty of heat—all of which you will find in her books. When she’s not reading or writing, she is obsessively fangirling over hockey players and can be found wherever she can catch the next hockey game.
Jillian is the author of the Philly Corruption Series, Face-Off Series, and the City of Sinners Series with other new adult romance titles to follow. For more information about Jillian’s books, visit her website at jillianquinnbooks.com.
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