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I know what I’m doing with my life. I have my shit together. I know what I want to study in college. I’m going to ace this project, even though I don’t know how to begin this thing.

For now, Lexy. You don’t know…for now.

A deep breath later, I open my eyes. I’m supposed to create a project plan to identify and fund scholarships for gifted students from underserved backgrounds. My business class teacher calls the assignment “Growing Future World Leaders.”

It’s an awful class. A snooze fest. A fancy business class in a fancy prep school where your coolness is measured by the dollar signs attached to your name.

But this project is meaningful. The proposals are submitted to non-profits in the city. And I’m a Vaughn, the family owning the internationally renowned Bank of Columbia. My name will be attached to this submission.

People expect things from a Vaughn. Good, brilliant things.

They always forget the Vaughns have a less than genius youngest daughter.

Me.

I can’t make us look bad. But what do I know about gifted students and future world leaders? I’m the literaloppositeof that statement.

I growl at the screen as my phone pings.

Quickly, I look around the rare text archival floor in my newest favorite place on earth—the Ravenswood Library. It’s housed in a five-story gothic building near Riverside Park, tucked among the limestone and brick structures on the Upper West Side.

After a visit to the nearby Columbia University, I stumbled upon this place. The library was built two hundred years ago by Sebastian Ravenswood as a gift to his wife, who loved books. But unfortunately, she passed away before the construction was done.

Love hit me with the precision of a cupid’s arrow.

The romance. The darkened stone walls and intricate stained glass windows. The gargoyles perched on the rooftops, guarding the books secured within the building. The beautiful, quiet back gardens with soaring archways which looked like they’d seen plenty of love stories being written over the centuries.

You fall in love far too easily, Firefly. Those daydreams aren’t real. Trust me, men are idiots. You don’t want any of us.

That’s what Liam says, but what does he know? My tattooed, leather jacket wearing older brother gets on my nerves most days. Our love language as siblings is fighting with each other. According to him, he and his best friend from college, Ethan, leave behind a string of broken hearts, melting panties with their charm and good looks.

I’m not looking for a guy like him or his best friend—who I’ve never met. I don’t need heartbreakers. Nor do I need someone like Charles, our oldest brother, who dotes on me and is the paragon of success, but a certified workaholic.

My phone pings again. Seeing no one looking my way, I swipe at the screen.

Summer

You, me, a night of drinks and hot guys? I’ve got our brand spankin’ new fake IDs!

I grin, imagining my golden-haired friend from Broadbent Academy, dolling it up in a sexy minidress even though there’s a blizzard outside. She’s a riot, and the two of us are nicknamed The Storm of Broadbent, blowing by and wreaking havoc.

Summer

Maybe you’ll meet someone who deserves to pop your cherry! *wink wink* Make sure to use protection—don’t get knocked up! God knows I don’t want any kids—they cramp your lifestyle.

The smile slips off my face and my chest pinches.

A guy I want to give my virginity to. Someone special. I used to think it’d be my current boyfriend, Dayton Holden, but it just doesn’t feel right.

And I don’t want to regret my first time.

Alexis

You suck. If I’m not doing it with Dayton, I’m not doing it with some rando at a club. You worry about using protection yourself.

The bright laptop screen snags my attention, as if reminding me of my responsibilities.Focus, Lexy. If there’s a time to focus, it’s now.

Alexis