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Creases set in at the corner of his eyes.
“It’s about what you said after Oliver and I got that thing for you,” I tell him before he can start guessing.
He snaps his jaw shut. “You want to cash in your favor?”
I nod. “I do.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “What is it I can help you with, Miss Astor?”
His words are so dangerously close to what Leo calls me, and my stomach tightens. “I want help taking your cousin down.”
Vincent isn’t savvy enough to control his enjoyment from my words as a cruel smirk curves his lips. “Leo? I thought you two were tight.”
“Don’t insult my intelligence. We both know what Leo is to me, and I want your help in putting him in his place.”
My fingertips tingle, a wave of unease flowing through me when Vincent’s grin widens. But I force myself to remember the things Leo has done to me: stalked me; followed me; lied to me; didn’t help me when I needed it…
I’ve been nothing but his plaything from the beginning, and this is where I take my stand.
“I think I can help you with that.”
The gleam in Vincent’s eyes is a little frightening. “Wh-what are you going to do?”
“You never mind with that. The point is, it’ll get done, and don’t worry, you’ll have a spectacular seat on the sidelines to view it all.”
A ball of ice forms in my stomach. Vincent puts his hand on the small of my back and leads me from the room. I’m so caught up in other thoughts that I don’t even attempt to get his squirmy hand off me.
We part ways in the hallway, and I walk back toward the party. My brain tells me I made the right decision, but my gut doesn’t. It turns over as I spot Leo marching through his cousin’s guests, most likely looking for me.
I can still feel his hot skin all over me, penetrating me over and over again. My core warms. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy it. It wasn’t even that I didn’t want it, it’s just that I am sick of people like Leo Jarvis taking things from me. What if we’d just kissed in front of Anne-Marie instead? Or I’d been able to stroke him into soiling my dress? Why did it have to be all or nothing?
Maybe the real problem is that the two of us together are a disaster. I lose all rational thought around him—and he has none.
Call me traditional, but the first time I have sex with someone, I don’t really want it to be out of revenge or a sick need to gain the upper hand.
Carefully, I walk down the brick steps that spill out into the garden. By the time I hit the bottom one, he’s in front of my face, his dark stare eating me up. Eyebrows slammed down over his eyes, he says, “Where the hell were you?”
Guys like Leo expect everyone to do exactly as they say. If he’d stop and think, he’d realize he despises the same thing when his grandfather does it to him. He hates being someone else’s bitch. “I had to clean up.”
I brush past him, but in the next second, he’s there, in my face again. “Is something wrong? If it’s Anne-Marie, you don’t have to worry about it. The cameras in that room have been wiped, and I just happened to push record on my phone when she cornered me, so I got it all. She won’t be saying a damn thing.”
Unease pricks up my spine. I can’t tell if I’m mad because…well maybe I’d expected Leo and I to be an eventuality all this time, yet that was not how I imagined it playing out. He’s not the chocolates and roses guy, but a quick fuck against a library wall? That’s all I’m worth to him? He didn’t even ask permission. I set those guidelines just the other day, and he’s done nothing but skirt around them.
That rendezvous was almost like the nail in the coffin for us.
Leo doesn’t have the capacity to give a fuck. His grandfather probably tortured it out of him, and though I feel bad for him, that’s as far as it goes.
He cocks his head. “Did you hear me?”
“Yeah,” I croak out. “I heard you.”
A squeak next to me gains my attention. “There’s my beautiful daughter.”
I peer over at Mom. She’s moving toward me like we’re best friends instead of a mother figure. She flings her arms around me. “You look beautiful.” Lowering her voice, she whispers, “But you know you should be wearing heels. Really, Eden. Especially when your date is so much taller than you.”
She pulls away, and I’ve almost hit my breaking point. I stare into her eyes that are so like mine. My father hovers just over her right shoulder, and I’m surprised to see that he looks a lot better than when I saw him last. “Well, I hurt my foot,” I tell her, plastering a huge smile on my face. “Really bad, actually. Dislocated my ankle.”
She waves me away. “You always were a little clumsy on your feet.”