by K. V. Rose
I shove that thought down deep.
“You dating anyone, Ava?” Benji asks me. Even though he kind of already asked that.
I clear my throat. “Nope.” It’s not a lie, right? “You? Girlfriend?” You better not have one after you just made me straddle you like that, is what I want to say. But of course I don’t.
Benji grins, as if he knows what I’m thinking. “Not for a long time.”
Riley looks up at that, away from her nearly empty glass. She’s been downing the alcohol and I wonder if she usually drinks so much or if she’s just uncomfortable in social situations.
Benji doesn’t offer anything else about his love life. Or lack of. Instead, he looks to Riley. “When Tyler gets in, you wanna go out?”
Riley looks to me. “What do you think?” she asks me.
I shrug. “I’m down for whatever.” At this rate, I won’t make it to my morning class, so why the hell not?
Which is how all four of us—Riley, her friend Tyler, Benji and me—find ourselves at a shockingly crowded club in Raleigh, the closest city, an hour later.
Riley came to life when Tyler arrived, and he seemed really happy to see her. I see him now, dancing with Riley on the crowded club floor, and I nudge Benji, who’s sitting beside me on a couch, watching her. We both have drinks in hand, and I’m feeling everything I’ve drank tonight.
“Won’t her fiancé be pissed about that?” I ask him, speaking up over the thud of the music.
He tilts his head back and laughs before looking at me in the dim lights of the club. “Tyler is gay. Not interested in her. In that way.” His eyes flick down to my thighs and I tug down my dress a little more. He smirks at me, lazily looking his fill up my body, before his eyes meet mine again.
“Are you?” I press, feeling bold.
“Am I what?” he asks before he tips back his drink.
“Are you interested in her, in that way?”
His eyes flash as he leans down, putting his drink on the table at our knees. His hand grazes my leg as he sits back up, and he lets it rest there. “I’ve already had her in that way.”
My jaw drops. I look from Riley, her head tilted back and resting on Tyler’s shoulder as they dance, back to Benji, shocked. What the fuck? I feel like even in Toronto it can’t be the norm for someone to fuck their best friend’s fiancée. And then be okay with them hanging out at their condo.
Benji just watches me, looking amused, letting me puzzle this over. His fingers trace circles over the patterns of my dress. The soft touch sends warmth to my core but I fight it back.
I’m done puzzling over Benji. Dumont has blown up my phone all night, resorting to all caps texts asking me where the hell I am, and Dad had text to say Mom would like to see me tomorrow after school which made my stomach drop, because they’ve been keeping me away to keep her healthy. Afraid I might bring home some university germs and make her sicker.
I’m feeling this vodka, and I want to dance and forget about this shit. Including Benji’s weird relationship to Riley, and his hand on my leg right now.
I set my drink down and stand to my feet, feeling a little dizzy. And then, without another word to Benji, I stalk past him, onto the dance floor, ready to lose myself in the music. Someone will dance with me. I sure as hell don’t need it to be Benji.
Five
I watch Ava sleeping on my couch, her hands tucked under her cheek, the steady rise and fall of her chest under my shirt.
Her heels are beside her dress, which is folded up at the end of the black leather couch. She refused to sleep in my bed, even though I put her in it, last night, and told her I’d take the couch. She said her dad was going to be so mad, but nothing happened between us, so I think Pops will be fine. She was stubborn, though, so couch it was.
I gave her the white t-shirt after I carried her up from the taxi last night, after I watched Tyler and Riley go into her place, and heard the lock after they stumbled in. Before that, I’d watched Ava dance with a dozen dudes, her eyes occasionally finding mine, as if she wanted me to step in. To dance with her instead.
I never did.
I just watched.
I stopped drinking after one beer at the club, to keep myself in check. And I did. I watched random guys put their hands all over her, the thin fabric of her dress probably leaving little to their imagination as they felt her curves and pulled her into them. At one point, she and Riley danced together, Ava’s hands running up and down Riley’s body.
I just kept watching, wondering what Caden would think of it, but knowing better than to mention it to him. He knows we went out, but he didn’t need to know the girl I’m trying to sleep with had her hands all over Riley’s ass.
When I carried Ava from the taxi, she’d thrown her arms around my neck and buried her head in my chest. She’d mumbled something about wanting to kiss me, but even if she had tried, I wouldn’t have let her.
She was way too drunk for that. Maybe not for kissing, exactly, but for what I’d want after…yeah, no thanks.
Instead, I made sure she changed, and tucked her in on the couch.
And now, I’m watching her from the kitchen.
Ava Culwen, daughter of the mayor of Briar. Her mom has cancer, and I think that’s probably why she failed all of her classes last semester.
Probably also why she’s going to be pissed when she wakes up. At herself, for going too far again. I found pictures of her in local newspapers—tabloids, more like—from earlier in the year, sloppy drunk and spilling out of cabs, arms slung around different men that she didn’t seem to have an attachment to, judging by the fact she was never photographed with the same one twice.
This town is clearly full of bigots if all they’ve got to worry about is a 22-year-old woman’s drinking habits. Or maybe no one reads the local paper anyway.
I down the water from the glass in my hand, toss back a Xanax. Riley won’t make it to class today, and I know she won’t want to go anyhow, since Tyler is here. Tyler was shockingly friendly with me last night, but I’m pretty sure that’s because Caden flew him first class and he made use of the free drinks on the plane.
It’s ten in the morning, and I’ve already gone down to the gym for a workout, swam a few laps in the pool, and checked in with my men back in Toronto for any news on Rolland Virani.
Of which there’s none.
No news on Shade or any of my clients, so all is good.
For now.
But it rarely ever stays that way for long.
That’s what the Xanax is for. For that, and Bianca.
I hear Ava shift on the couch and cross my arms, leaning against the island of my kitchen which is identical to Riley’s.
Ava’s eyes flutter open and she frowns, looking confused. She feels the leather couch beneath her, picks at the t-shirt she’s wearing, and then sits up, whipping her head in my direction.
Her bleary eyes widen.
“What the fuck?” she asks, her voice groggy and full of sleep.
“Morning, Princess.”
She searches under the covers, peering over the arm of the chair at the side table. I know what she’s looking for. It’s what we’re all looking for when we wake up from a night of drinking way too damn much.
I slip her phone out of my pocket and hold it up, teasing her.
“Hey!” she shouts. She starts to fling back the blanket that’s over her legs, and then realizes she’s only wearing underwear. She glares at me, leaving the blanket on. “Give me that,” she snaps, crossing her arms over her chest.
I shake my head. “Nah,” I reply easily. “I think I’ll keep it.” I put it back in my pocket.
“Did you do this?” she asks, darting her gaze down to my t-shirt.
“And if I did?” I ask her innocently.
I see her cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink. “Did you?” she presses, sounding less angry and more uncertain.
I get it. I hate that feeling. Not remembering clearly what you did the night before.
Waking up in a strange place. I felt that way every fucking day I woke up in prison.
“No,” I admit, dropping the teasing. “You did. You had a hell of a time last night.”
She tilts her head. “You didn’t dance with me,” she says, as if she’s remembering.
I smile. “I didn’t.” I walk around the island in the kitchen and into the living room, pulling her phone out and offering it to her. She snatches it from my hand and checks her notifications, of which there are a lot.
A lot, in particular, from a number that isn’t saved in her phone, but I feel certain she knows who it is.
She glances up at me as I watch her. “Thanks,” she mumbles.
“You going to class today?” I ask her.
She sighs and rubs her eyes, throwing her phone down on the couch, where it narrowly misses falling into the cushions. I didn’t see her reply to any of her texts. She’s probably driving some dude nuts.
Oh well. As long as it isn’t me.
“I should,” she mutters, leaning her head back on the couch and staring at the ceiling. I sit down beside her but leave ample space between us.
“But?” I prod, wondering if that’s her final answer.
She shrugs. “I probably won’t,” she admits.
After a moment, she picks her head up and stares at me. “Why didn’t you dance with me?”
I laugh, hooking an arm around the back of the couch. “That really bothers you, doesn’t it?”
She looks away from me. “I’m just surprised.”
“You had plenty of partners.”
She nods, pursing her lips. “I did, didn’t I?” she muses. She clearly knows she’s cute.
“Dancing isn’t my thing,” I admit. I love clubs. I own one. But I don’t dance often. I’d rather watch the action than be in on it. Most of the time.
“Why?” she asks, challenging me. “Afraid you’ll embarrass yourself?”
For a second, my adoptive parents’ faces flash into my mind. After I did what I did. When I was sentenced. When they found out the truth about Bianca.
I blink, and the image is gone. “No,” I say quietly. “I don’t get embarrassed.” Not anymore.
“Well,” she says, glancing down at the blanket over her legs. “I guess I’ll get out of your hair.”
I know that’s my cue to leave the room, to give her some privacy to change back into her dress which is beside me on the arm of the chair, but I don’t move.
“Did you have fun?” I ask her quietly.
She looks surprised by the question, and then chews her lip, as if she’s thinking about it. Finally, she answers me. “I did,” she says. “Yeah.” And then, “I can pay you back for my half of the cab.”
I stare at her a second, waiting for her to burst into laughter. When she doesn’t, I frown. “Do you think I need you to pay for your half of the ride?”
She shrugs. “Seems like in Canada they do things differently. Sleep with their best friend’s girl, stalk people before they get to know them.” She shrugs. “Split cab rides?”
Okay. She thinks she’s funny.
“Alright,” I say, standing to my feet. “You win. We do indeed do things differently. Which is why you’re going to come with me to a movie. Today.” I mean, last night I didn’t get to fuck her, but tonight? Could be different. And damn do I need to get laid.
My phone rings loudly in my back pocket just as she opens her mouth to respond. I pull my phone out, glance at the screen.
Caden.
I imagine Riley hasn’t woken up yet and he’s being the needy asshole that he is.
I ignore the call, knowing that will piss him off and feeling kind of good about it. I look back at Ava.
“So?”
She frowns. “Tonight I have plans.”
“I didn’t ask about tonight,” I clarify. “Today. As soon as you’re ready.”
She grabs her phone again and holds it up, thumbing through her messages. Her brows are pulled together, as if whatever she sees on her screen is going to give her the answer. I pull the phone from her hands, and take a step back from the couch.
“Hey!” she yells at me, halfway up from the couch but for some reason not wanting to stand in front of me in her underwear. I already saw it, last night, because she had to walk from the bathroom to the couch. She was wearing pink lace, and the fabric hugged her ass perfectly, dipping low over her pelvis. But I don’t think right now is a good time to tell her that.
I hold her phone by my side, not bothering to look at her messages even though it’s still unlocked. If I wanted to, I could read them all without even holding the damn thing in my hand.
“Is that a ‘yes’?” I tease her.
She glares at me, those ocean blue eyes narrowed, lashes nearly fanning her brow. “I don’t even know your last name. I know nothing about you—”
“And yet you spent the night in my condo last night,” I point out, arching a brow.
I see her cheeks flush pink again, and my eyes narrow in on that freckle above the dent in her full lips. It’s fucking sexy.
“Whoever is on this phone,” I say, holding it up, “isn’t making the decision. You are. Movie or nah?”
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever, but it’ll have to be an early showtime.” She huffs. “Can I have my phone back now?”
“Sure.” I squat down and set it on the floor, far enough away from the couch that she’ll have to stand up and get it. “Here it is.”
I see her fists clench and I laugh, nodding toward them. “I wouldn’t fight me if I were you—” And then Caden is calling again.
I pull my phone back out and run a hand through my hair. “It’s your lucky day.” I answer the phone and wink at her before I head down the hall, away from the living room, toward my own room.
“What?” I ask Caden when I answer the phone.
“Please tell me why,” this asshole says as I walk into my bedroom and close the door behind me, “my fiancée isn’t answering her phone and it’s nearly eleven in the morning. Riley doesn’t sleep in.”
I sink down onto my king-sized bed, run my hand over the dark grey comforter and pinch the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger.
“Dude, you flew Tyler here. She’s sleeping. I told you we went out last night—”
“You mean you haven’t seen her this morning?” he snaps. But even though Caden is always kind of a dick, there’s something else in his tone. I stand to my feet, walk over to my dresser and pull open the top drawer.
“She’s across the hall,” I say calmly. “With Tyler.”
“You haven’t seen her?” Caden presses. “Has she text you?”
I pull out the gun from the dresser, close it back. “If she hasn’t text you, she sure as hell wouldn’t text me first. She knows how you are—”
“Rolland took a flight.”
I close my fingers around the grip of the gun and glance at my reflection in front of the armoire. There are dark circles under my eyes. What a surprise.
“Where.” And why didn’t I know that? My men are supposed to be tracking him.
Unless he’s as smart as I am. Which is doubtful. But he has means.
“Where do you think?” Caden spits, and I know he’s panicking.
“That’s impossible. I would have known.” I walk to the door and pull it open, charging down the hall with the gun in hand, phone held between my shoulder and my ear. I don’t even spare Ava a glance as I unbolt my door and fling it open, walking across the hall to Riley’s door. I pound on it, four quick strikes in a row, then a fifth one a second later.
“Mom told me. Left a voicemail. He probably has a fake passport or something, I don’t know, are those even real?”
I almost laugh.
But no one is coming to the damn door, so I don’t.
I pound on it again, and I hear Ava behind me. She comes into view at my side, adjusting the strap on her dress from the day before. “What the hell?” she whispers, and I know she
saw the gun.
“Who the fuck is that?” Caden asks, having heard her.
“I’ll call you back.” I hang up on him, slide the phone in my back pocket, and turn around, heading back to my door. I push past Ava, who looks pale, and find my way into the kitchen, grabbing the key to Riley’s unit from the knife drawer. I grab a knife while I’m at it, a chef’s knife, and hand it to Ava as I pass her.
“What the fuck is going on?” she demands to know, reluctantly taking the knife, but I don’t have time to explain shit to her.
I unlock Riley’s door and slam it back on its hinges, barging into her apartment.
“Riley!” I yell, looking around the living room. It’s neat and tidy as it usually is, but I don’t see any sign of her or Tyler. I walk down the hall, calling her name again. No response.
How the fuck did Rolland Virani get on a plane without my knowing about it, especially to cross into the States? I should’ve known. My people should have known.
“Riley!” I call again, and I hear Ava’s footsteps behind me. I glance over at her. “Get back to my place.” I don’t wait to see if she’s listened.
I open Riley’s door, my heart slamming in my chest. If I fucked this up, if she’s hurt…
I don’t see anything at first. But then there’s a stir of movement on her bed, a small lump in the covers, and I see a strand of her long, light brown hair. I let loose a breath, leaning against the wall across from her bed, my shoulders sagging as I close my eyes and run a hand through my hair.
Thank fuck.
Riley stirs again and then she sits up, her eyes bleary as she realizes I’m in her room. She pulls up the covers to her chin as if I haven’t seen her naked before.
“Benji?” she whispers, her voice hoarse. “What’s wrong?”
I take another breath, in and out, and I see her eyes cut to the gun in my hand. “Everything is okay,” I tell her.
She frowns, not buying it.
“Although you’re going to want to call Caden. Now.” I turn to go. “And I’ll be in your living room until you get up.”
And then I leave her, closing the door behind me.
Ava is in the hallway, knife no where to be seen. My eyes narrow on her. “I thought I told you to—”
