Tony Sorrento could touch me wherever he wanted to.
“Want to get out of here?” he asks, his gravelly low voice twisting me up inside.
I’m startled by his question. “And go where?”
“I don’t know. Did you drive your car?”
I slowly shake my head.
“Me either.” His expression is pure frustration.
“We can get an Uber,” I suggest.
His lips curl into this beautiful smile that takes my breath away. “I like the way you think.”
“Your father won’t be mad if you leave early?” I ask.
“Like I care. He hasn’t seen me for years. He has no room to talk,” Tony says, his voice filled with disdain.
I can’t blame him for feeling that way. It must hurt, not having his father around, though I can also relate since I rarely see my mother anymore. Why do wealthy, busy parents think it’s okay to buy our love with materialistic things, and believe that’s going to be a good enough replacement for them?
It’s not. I don’t refuse my father’s gifts, but sometimes, I wish he would just show up. Especially when I was younger. I played volleyball in high school too, though I was never as good as Palmer, and I begged for him to come to my games. Just one during the season, that’s all I wanted. So many dedicated parents came to every single game, cheering their children on, forming a bond that was cool to see. One I appreciated more than any of the other girls on my team because, to them, their parents just showed up. To them, their parents becoming friends with the other parents was normal.
For me? I was lucky my dad showed up to two games the entirety of my high school career. Two out of what felt like a billion. That’s it. And he spent the majority of the time during both games on his phone and rarely watched me play.
Once I graduated, it felt like a breath of fresh air, getting away from my father. Distance helped the resentment I was feeling toward him lessen.
Earlier this afternoon, though, it all came back. I know the real reason he wanted me to go to this dinner. To show me off. To pair me up with someone. As if I’m for sale.
“Will your father be mad if you bailed out?” Tony asks.
I slowly shake my head, though I’m really not so sure. “He’ll understand.”
If he knew I was about to hop into an Uber with Tony Sorrento, son of his supposed mortal enemy, he wouldn’t understand whatsoever. He’d be freaking livid.
Guess that’s the chance I’m going to have to take.
Five
Tony
We’re in the back seat of a black Mercedes SUV. Bougie Hayden wouldn’t settle for less, despite me saying we’d get to where we wanted to go whether we were in the back of a Prius or a Mercedes. We didn’t need an Uber X.
She claimed it made her feel safe, so I went along with her decision. Besides, I’m not the one paying, not that money matters. Not to me. I don’t think it matters much to Hayden either.
Two rich kids not really giving a shit about anything, that’s who we are.
I have to admit though, this car is sleek as fuck. The driver barely looks at us and murmurs only a couple of words to Hayden when she speaks with him after he arrives at the front of the country club where we’re waiting for him. When we slip into the vehicle, we sink into soft, comfortable leather seats. Chilled bottles of water sit in the center console between us, and there are even a couple of chocolate mints left for us as well.
“Nice,” I say to Hayden when the car pulls away from the curb, the engine purring.
She smiles at me and grabs the bottle of water closest to her, undoing the top and taking a sip. I watch her, entranced with the elegant length of her neck as she tips her head back, the string of stars that lies at the base of her throat. Her skin is smooth, all the way down to the center of the V-neckline of her dress, and I wonder if she has a bra on.
I’m going to guess no.
“I’m not usually so impulsive,” Hayden says, swiveling her head in my direction. I meet her gaze, see the excitement sparkling in her eyes. “This is a total moment for me.”
Not sure if I believe her. She seems like the impulsive type. Up for anything. “You going to tell me where we’re going yet?”
A smile spreads across her face as she slowly shakes her head. “No. It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t really like surprises.” The ones I’ve dealt with through most of my life have all been bad news.
“You’ll like this one. Promise.”
We make our way out of the city, taking the Bay Bridge over into Oakland, but I don’t say anything about it. I’m just along for the ride, though my curiosity grows. We make small talk, chatting about everything and nothing, and when we go silent, we both stare out our windows. The silence doesn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable though, especially since we don’t know each other very well. I sneak glances at her when I can, amazed at how pretty she is. Amazed that she chose to leave with me, when she doesn’t even know me.
I still don’t understand exactly what came over me earlier, making the suggestion to her that we leave, but I don’t regret it. That dinner was a nightmare. Dad showing me off to his friends. Helena and her disturbingly hungry gaze when I’d catch her watching me. I know she was talking about me with her friend, like she thinks I’m hot or something, and that’s just beyond strange.
I have zero interest in fucking my dad’s wife.
Must admit, knowing that Hayden’s dad doesn’t approve of me makes me want to spend even more time with her. Is that why I suggested we leave together?
Nah, it’s more than that. I’m attracted to this girl. I don’t know much about her, but I like her. Guess she likes me too.
The car finally stops on top of a hill, right in the middle of a residential area, and Hayden jumps out of the car with a cheery thank you for the driver. I exit the car as well, glancing around, a strong breeze hitting me hard and blowing my jacket open. I press my arm against it, shivering against the coolness that accompanies the wind and Hayden laughs as she approaches me.
“Colder than I thought it would be out here,” she says.
My gaze drops to the front of her dress, her nipples poking against the fabric. Yep, just as I suspected.
No bra.
“Where the hell are we?” I ask her.
She stops directly in front of me, ignoring my question. “Come on.”
I let her take my hand and I follow behind her, just enough distance between us that I can watch the sway of her hips as she walks. The way she moves hypnotizes me, and I’m hit with the temptation to slip my hand beneath her skirt and touch the top of her silky smooth thigh. To slide my fingers into the front of her dress and see what I encounter. To kiss those smirking lips.
But it probably wouldn’t be too smart to make a move on her when we’re the only two people outside this time of night. She’d probably scream bloody murder and call 9-1-1.
If she’s smart, she would. She doesn’t know me. I could be anyone.
“Here we go,” she sing-songs as a church looms ahead of us, the parking lot surrounding it completely empty. She tugs on my hand. “It’s around back.”
“What’s around back?” I ask, picking up my pace so I can walk beside her.