by Caisey Quinn
She’s Fallon and it’s Valentine’s Day so she’s wearing a flowing red dress that seems to have fabric everywhere except where it should be. Her lipstick matches her dress perfectly, that or she just sucked the blood out of some poor guy.
“Fallon.” My mom greets her warmly with a hug. “So glad you could make it. Is your mother here?”
“She couldn’t make it unfortunately,” Fallon says with a fake pout. “I’m here all alone.” Dangerous hazel eyes meet mine and I know what she’s looking for. An offer to take her home, or out clubbing after dinner.
Fallon was the resident wild child at the private high school I attended. She got caught drinking in study hall, smoking in the ladies room, and snorting coke during detention. She never wears panties and has a penchant for giving public blowjobs anywhere and everywhere she can get away with it. Something I used to love about her, but now only makes me nervous. Having her near Corin will be bad. I can feel it down to my DNA.
The Kensington name got her out of more trouble than I can even recall, and in high school, Fallon was the female version of me. Or I was the male version of her. It only made sense that we joined forces and made the school administration’s life a living hell.
But I learned the hard way that I would never be enough to satisfy Fallon. She slept with my best friend on graduation night. When I walked in on them in her bedroom, she couldn’t understand why I didn’t want to join in. I haven’t talked to Harrison Hayes since and I didn’t plan to ever lay eyes on her again either if I could help it.
I was never a territorial guy but I wasn’t one to share either. My understanding had been that we were exclusive and I’d been faithful to her our entire senior year of high school.
She had demons. Things that had happened to her as a child when her parents were off sailing around the world and would leave her with anyone that would take her had left their mark. She was dark and broody and I was carefree and fun. I thought we balanced each other out. But I was wrong.
Fallon was forever unbalanced.
She and my mother are discussing the international modeling contract Fallon recently signed when I see the only girl I care to.
Corin enters the room with my sister and my head isn’t the only one that turns.
“That must be Skylar’s friend,” my dad says under his breath. I don’t bother responding. I’m too busy making my way through the crowd to get to her. I need to touch her, to feel her in my arms, to tell her that one taste of her will never be enough.
Just as Corin’s beautiful eyes met mine, Katie makes an announcement that the party is moving to the outdoor patio for dinner and the auction and I’m basically bull rushed in the other direction.
Men of all ages are turning as Corin passes to the point that I can follow the trail of drool. She’s new here, fresh meat, but she’s fucking mine and I have already knocked one asshole out today. I have no problems adding to the list. The night is young.
Totally get you now, O’Brien. Sorry for judging.
I finally make my way to her as Brent Burgess the third pulls a chair out for her.
“Thanks, Burgess. I’ll take it from here,” I tell the four-eyed fuckhead making sure to give him a noticeable get the hell out of here look.
Corin smiles at me. “You clean up nice, Sky.”
Her voice is thick with desire but I can’t imagine she’s as turned on as I am right now. A waitress passes and I grab us each a glass of champagne.
I should say something casual and off the cuff, like “ditto” or “likewise” but I can’t. “You look fucking edible, Red.” Which she is, I now know from experience. “But we have a serious problem,” I murmur into her ear as I push her seat slowly to the banquet table.
“What’s that?” Her wide emerald eyes regard me warily. She’s out of her element here, but no one would know. She’s hands down the most breathtaking women in the room.
I take my own seat beside her and lean over to whisper in her ear. “Now that I know just how edible you are, I’m going to need to satisfy that craving every damn day.”
Corin’s cheeks pink and I slide a hand onto the thigh exposed by the slit in her dress.
“My sister loan you this?”
Corin nods.
“It’s yours. I’ll buy it from her.” I open my mouth to tell her my plan for paying for my own bid so we can have all night together when a hand grips my thigh under the table. It isn’t Corin’s.
“Skylar,” Fallon’s voice whines. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friend?”
“And us too,” my mom chimes in from behind me.
I’m pretty sure this is what hell will be like. Not that I don’t deserve to be there, but I’d hoped it would be a while.
Standing to remove myself from Fallon’s clutches, I help Corin up.
“Mom, Dad, this is Corin Connelly.”
My dad nods stiffly, still scanning the room for more important people to schmooze. My mom shakes Corin’s hand with a puzzled expression. “I don’t think I know of any Connelly’s in New York. Are you from the East or West side?”
Corin pulls a tight smile. “Brooklyn, ma’am.”
My mom looks like she’s been slapped. Heaven forbid Corin isn’t from the right kind of stock. The slight doesn’t go unregistered on Corin’s radar and hurt ripples briefly across her features. I squeeze her hand because these people simply don’t matter and I wish I could convey that her somehow.
“How quaint,” Fallon comments, completing ignoring the fact that no one invited her into this conversation.
“Not particularly,” Corin remarks, lifting her chin just a notch higher.
“Good, you’ve all met,” Katie joins us like a breath of fresh air. “Now find your seats so we can serve dinner and the auction can begin.”
“Bid on me,” I tell Corin during the appetizer. “Whatever it is, I’ll pay it.”
She frowns at me after she finishes her spinach salad. “Um, your sister said you go for like ten thousand dollars. You’re going to pay that?”
“I have it in savings. It’s fine. I usually donate anyways.”
She looks troubled through the entire main course.
I have to peel Fallon off of me twice by the time dessert is served. Corin’s presence is making her more aggressive than usual. I’m ready to start the auction my damn self by the time my sister takes the outdoor stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen, now for the even you all came here for. Our most eligible Orange County bachelor’s are ready to be auctioned off for the evening.”
There’s a murmur through the crowd as we stand. I give Corin a light kiss before heading to the stage. It’s almost over. We’re almost in the clear, away from the past, from disapproving parents, and predatory glares.
There’s dancing after this, then an entire evening with your bachelor. I can hardly wait to hold Corin in my arms…and in my bed.
Every word out of this Fallon chick’s mouth makes me want to drink. I’m on my third—or maybe fourth—glass of champagne by the time she finishes rehashing her past with Skylar and starts in about the modeling contract she just signed with some French company I can’t even pronounce.
The traveling, the jet lag, and the time change are taking their toll on me. I’m exhausted and possibly a little drunk.
There are girls at school that check Skylar out. Soccer groupies, or field bunnies as I call them. But Fallon Kensington is an entirely different animal. She’s exotically beautiful and slightly frightening. There’s an edge to her, a darkness in her eyes I’ve only seen in one other person. Landen O’Brien. Maybe the light in Skylar attracts these types.
The difference is Landen has a good heart beneath his tough exterior. I have faith in him or I never would’ve let me roommate leave the country with him. The only thing I can tell for sure about Fallon so far is that she’s calculating and is trying very hard to intimidate the hell out of me.
It’s working.
She’s a supermodel.
A real life, honest to goodness, motherfucking supermodel. How am I supposed to compete with that?
I felt beautiful, or pretty at least, when I first emerged in this dress. But now it feels as if I’m hiding behind gaudy makeup and too much fabric, shrinking and shriveling beneath her predatory and disapproving stare.
Doesn’t help that Skylar’s parents are clearly not impressed with me. His mother smiles at me a few times during the auction as if I’m a stray animal Skylar brought home to try and tame into pet material. His dad hasn’t made eye contact once and seems to be perpetually searching for more interesting conversation companions. Only Katie has truly made me feel welcome here and she’s so busy she can barely see straight.
She’s currently standing next to the man in the sharp Armani suit running the auction. The bids have hit as high as twelve thousand dollars so far and I’m twitching in my seat.
Skylar is up and I realize I could’ve gone my entire life and never seen him in a tux. I probably would’ve been better off. He’s the stuff fantasies are made of and I have no business fantasizing.
Katie reads off a few facts I already know about him, eye color, weight, height, and that he’s a collegiate soccer player before the auctioneer opens up the bidding. Several women begin bidding and the amount hits five thousand in a matter of seconds. Jesus. And here I’ve been spending night after night with him for free.
“Fifty-five hundred,” Fallon calls out, bidding for the first time.
My stomach plummets as my heart takes off like an angry hummingbird trying to escape my chest.
Of course she’s going to bid on him. She practically tried to sit in his lap all through dinner. I don’t even want to imagine how deep her pockets are.
I have sixty-eight dollars in the bank.
Skylar said he’d pay, but how much can I ask him to pay for a night with me?
“Six thousand,” I call out, alarmed at how strong and clear my voice sounds.
“Seven,” Fallon counters quickly, shooting me a confident smirk that says back off, bitch loud and clear.
“Eight,” another girl across the room calls out.
“We have eight. Do we have nine?” The auctioneer calls out.
Skylar’s head swivels at the back and forth before he gives a pointed glare. I see him flash all ten fingers discreetly at waist level.
“Ten thousand dollars,” I call out, hoping this will be the end of it. I’m sweating as it is. The room has quieted and everyone is watching us closely.
“Fifteen,” Fallon says evenly.
No she didn’t. My disbelief is all over my face. I give Skylar a helpless look and he nods me on.
“Um, sixteen?”
“We have ‘um, sixteen,’” the auctioneer teases. “Can I get seventeen? This is a worthwhile charity, folks. Do it for the kids.”
“Twenty-thousand dollars,” Fallon calls out clear as a bell.
Jesus.
I shake my head at Skylar. No way in hell can I ask him to pay twenty thousand freaking dollars just to hang out with me tonight. He widens his eyes at me, silently conveying that I should keep going, but I can’t.
No night with me would be worth that.
I’m in danger of having PTSD-style flashbacks.
Men paying for me, feeling obligated to do things I don’t want to because money changed hands.
I can’t. I won’t.
Never again. The circumstances are different but the scenario is basically the same.
I shouldn’t be here.
Skylar and Fallon look like a couple. They look like wealth and privilege and manicured lawns and mansions. I can practically see their future playing out behind my eyes. Wedding on some huge estate looking like a two-page spread in Vogue, perfect prep school children, and an overpriced dog. At a dinner party Fallon will flash her huge diamond ring and say something like “remember that trashy slut from New York you brought to the auction that one time? What was that about?” And Skylar will roll his eyes and say, “I slummed it a little college, sweetheart. Forgive me.”
My dinner is threatening to come back up so I wash it down with another glass of champagne. During my wide-awake nightmare, the bidding on Skylar has ended and the next bachelor is on the block.
Fallon won.
Fallon can have him.
I stand and excuse myself to the ladies room.
I dodge waiters through the courtyard and nearly knock over a seventy-year-old woman in a pink dress and pearls on my way back into the house. It’s a maze of doors and hallways until I finally find a bathroom.
The girl in the mirror taunts me.
Coward.
She’s wide-eyed and gaunt-looking, swallowed whole by the grand marble fixtures surrounding her.
I glare at her. She should pull it together. Hold her head high. None of these people matter to me. I’ll probably never see any of them again and that should be a good thing.
So Skylar’s going to spend the evening with his ex.
He’s not mine. I don’t own him.
I use the facilities then wash my hands and freshen up the lipgloss Katie gave me. This isn’t that big of a deal, I tell my reflection. I’m only like an hour from campus. I can go back to my dorm any time I want. My lonely, empty dorm room. Or I can stay here and hang out with Katie if she didn’t bid on anyone after I left. I doubt she’s going to want to go out tonight after the day she’s had so maybe we can just sit up and drink and have a girl’s night.
Deep breaths.
I’m tougher than this. I’ve survived a hell of a lot worse than some drama queen bidding on a guy I have a slight crush on.
I’m also really good at lying to myself. Which is a good thing, because I have a feeling I’ll be doing it for the rest of the night.
“Want to dance?” The attractive blond future corporate accountant-looking guy with glasses who pulled my chair out before dinner asks me as soon as I step outside. “Looks like your date is going to be occupied.” He nods at where Fallon is thoroughly enjoying being in Skylar’s arms on the dance floor. She looks like a cat in heat. To Skylar’s credit, he’s at least looking over her head as if trying to find someone.
Over here, buddy.
“Sure,” I say, taking his arm and allowing him to lead me to an unoccupied section of the wooden dance floor. “Um…”
“Brent,” he tells me.
“Brent.” I smile. “I’m Corin. From the wrong side of New York,” I say with a wink.
“What a coincidence. That’s my favorite area,” he teases good-naturedly.
The band is lively and the songs are mostly upbeat so we dance until my feet ache.
“How come you weren’t in the auction?” I ask when we take a break to grab more drinks. My head is swimming a little from all the alcohol, but it’s a nice distraction from Skylar and Fallon.
“Promise not to tell?” he asks before taking a drink of his bourbon.
I nod, leaning in for the secret.
“My grandma bids on me every year. So I begged Katie to let me sit out if I just donated the amount she usually bids.”
I laugh until my side hurts. Brent makes a crack about me taking pleasure in his pain and I giggle harder.
“Best five thousand I’ve ever spent,” he says straight-faced.
“Aww, but one day you’ll miss her and wish you’d spent the evening with her,” I inform him as I get my laughter under control. “There are worse things than a grandmother who wants to spend the evening with her grandson and is willing to pay for it.”
He nods. “You ever cleaned out eight litter boxes? Eight litter boxes that haven’t been cleaned out in months, possibly a year since the last auction?”
“Um, no. Can’t say I have.”
He smirks at me. “Exactly. So don’t judge me, lady.”
I laugh and polish off another glass of champagne before he leads me back to the dance floor. The music has slowed and Skylar and Fallon are nowhere to be seen. Not that I care.
The more intoxicated I get, the easier the lies come.
“How come you didn’t bid on anyone else?”
I shrug. “I don’t know anyone else.”
“So you and Skylar aren’t like…a thing?”
My drunk brain doesn’t want to answer anymore questions. “Oh, no. Not really. I mean, we hang out at school sometimes. But no. We’re nothing.”
Thank God for alcohol.
“Nothing, huh?”
Skylar’s voice is angry and wounded from behind me. I suck in a breath and turn to face him.
He doesn’t even look at me. “Burgess, what’d you have for breakfast?”
My hands begin to tremble at my sides.
“Uh, egg white omelet. Why?”
Skylar’s face contorts into a mask of ugliness. “Well I had Corin for breakfast. And I’ve decided I want seconds, so if you’ll excuse us.”
Bastard.
He takes my elbow but I am on fire from the shame caused by his words.
Why humiliate me like that?
I so get it now, why Julia Roberts was pissed when Richard Gere told the guy from Seinfeld she was a hooker.
I jerk out of his grasp and slap his face as hard as I can. My hand stings but I don’t care. “Don’t dress me up and try to make me look like something I’m not if you’re just going to tell everyone I’m your piece of ass.”
Lifting my dress so I don’t trip over it, I all but sprint through the crowd and to Katie’s room the best I can manage.
Katie is on her way out of it, looking ready to collapse. “Corin? Everything okay?”
“Your brother is an asshole,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry. He just—”
“No, I know. He can be sometimes.” She shakes her head. “And Fallon…I suspected when I saw her here that she’d cause trouble. I’m sorry about that.”
I catch my breath and do my best to calm down. “It’s not even that. It’s…” I couldn’t even put it into words. “I shouldn’t have come.”
“Well I’m glad you came but I understand. Stay in my room tonight. I’m going to be up late finishing up with the party and then I’m probably going to head to my apartment since it’s closer to work. Don’t let Fallon or my brother get to you. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about.”
