Very Twisted Things (Briarcrest Academy #3) (15 page)

Blair padded through the doorway. Nude. “Get dressed, Blair.”

She ignored me. “What’s for breakfast?”

I splashed cold water on my face. “Uh, we don’t really have anything. I suggest you go home to eat.”

“We can go to Java and Me?”

I sighed.
Fuck
.

“You know, maybe I
don’t
love you like I said,” she admitted as she peered at her reflection and checked the waddle under her neck.

“You don’t say.”

She shrugged. “But, we could take our relationship further—at least for the press.”

I tensed. “How?”

“Like an engagement. Wouldn’t it be fun to go ring shopping? Next thing you know everyone will be looking for my baby bump.”

She was batshit crazy. “Blair, that’s not a good idea right now.”

“Why? Because you got the hots for your neighbor?”

“No.”

“Can I at least borrow some clothes? Mine are wrinkled,” she snapped.

I sighed and tossed her some athletic shorts with a drawstring and a shirt. “Look, I have a massive headache, and all I want to do right now is get some coffee. Why don’t you come downstairs when you’re done up here and we’ll talk.”

She sighed. “You may have already ruined your chance for the movie last night. We need to get behind this and make an appearance so everyone sees we’re still together.”

I groaned. I didn’t want to pose for any more fake pictures.

“Don’t let your neighbor ruin what you’ve been working on for weeks,” she said as she eased up next to me and slipped her hands inside my jeans to cup me. “You need someone like me. Who wants the same things you do.”

“Yeah?” It was hard to think, especially when she fell to her knees, pushed my jeans down and took me in her mouth.

I got hard and closed my eyes, but it was V’s face that popped in my head. Fuck. I felt sick. I pulled away from Blair and tucked myself back in. I wasn’t going there with her. Not when V was the girl I wanted.

She wiped her mouth and stood, a calculating look in her eyes. “I don’t get on my knees for everyone, Sebastian.”

I gritted my teeth. “Not in the mood for your drama, so step back.”

She relented, pouting. “Fine. You told me last night we’d spend the day together. Are you changing your mind on that too?”

I began to have my doubts and made a note to check my phone to see if I’d even called her in the first place. She was a major manipulator, one of the main reasons I did my best to keep her at arm’s length—except for that one time.

But if I wanted that movie …

“No engagement rings,” I snarled.

She shrugged and gave me a peck on the cheek. “As long as we’re together.”

Great. This day was going to pass as slow as a kidney stone.

“Like a phoenix, I wanted to be reborn. Forged in fire. Strong.”

—from the journal of Violet St. Lyons

THE NEXT DAY, Geoff and I headed to a beauty salon situated near Hollywood and Vine. It was called The Black Swan, and it screamed modern hip. I dug the vibe right away as we walked in, taking in the graffiti-style art and eclectic clientele.

“Don’t you think you’d have better luck at a place in Beverly Hills?” Geoff said as we got an eyeful of the statuesque cross-dressing beauty at the sign-in desk.

“This place comes highly recommended by Mila.” I nodded my head at one of the clients getting her hair cut. “Cyndi Lauper. See, classy.”

He arched a brow. “About as much class as a box of pink Zinfandel.” He teased, but I sensed the underlying tension. Things were strained between us, which wasn’t surprising considering he’d shown up at my door last night in a taxi and asked to stay the night. Part of me had been glad to see him—surprisingly thrilled—but another side of me wondered why he was here.

Then Sebastian had knocked on my door. He’d acted as if me lying about Geoff had hurt him somehow, yet this morning on my run I’d seen Blair leaving his house. I flinched, remembering how she’d strolled out of his house in what must have been Sebastian’s clothes. I’d darted behind a bush and hunkered down, watching as he opened her Porsche’s car door for her and then stood there as she drove away.
He was the liar
.

“You okay?” Geoff asked, looking at me as we walked to the sign-in desk. “Your face is green.”

“I’m fine,” I said. But I wasn’t. Part of me was nursing a broken heart, and I didn’t even understand it. “Anyway, Mila says this is the place to go when you want something unique.”

He grunted. “A venereal disease?”

“Be nice. Sebastian and Spider get their hair done here, too.”

He gaped at me. “Are you kidding me? I’ve read up on these guys. They’re your typical bad boy rockers, especially Spider.”

I groaned. “Don’t believe everything you read, Geoff. I’ve met them both, and while Spider does have some rough edges, I sense a good guy. Sebastian is incredibly talented. He’s made a living out of his music—all without a record label. You have to respect that.”

His smile slipped and his eyes narrowed. “You sound like his cheerleader. It’s annoying.”

“Stop being a jealous jerk. It doesn’t suit you.” I nodded my head at a Hispanic guy with a Mohawk. “That’s Steve, the guy Mila got me an emergency appointment with.”

He brushed imaginary lint from his shirt and sent Steve a lofty look. “I’d much rather see you at a luxury spa, preferably in Manhattan.” He took my hand. “Come on, there’s still time to get out of here. We can get on a plane and be in New York by dinner. I’ll even take you to Vesper’s—that Thai place you loved? It’s still there, just waiting.”

A block from my parents’ Upper East Side apartment, Vesper’s had been my favorite place. We’d met Geoff and his parents there several times over the years.

“First off, I don’t fly, and secondly, I have a hair appointment, so shut your fancy face and come with me.”

He laughed. “Okay.”

The receptionist led me over to Steve, who looked ominous with his six-inch Mohawk and ear gauges. Tattoos of skulls were splattered up his muscled arms.

I sat down in the chair, met Steve, and we talked about my hair. He snapped his fingers and two young girls scurried to stand on either side of him. “Ladies, this is V, a friend of the Vital Rejects. She wants a complete reboot. What do you think?”

Their eyes brightened.

“Ah, sexy Spiderman with the blue hair …”

“… black widow, come bite me …”

“… pierced his nipple once …”

I cocked an eyebrow at their excitement. “I take it they’re good customers?”

They’d continued.

“And Sebastian … dirty talking boy …”

“… god of thunder … be my hammer …”

“… best hair in town …”

I laughed as Steve hushed the girls, who erupted into giggles and left—something about getting foils and color.

“They’re a bunch of sluts.” He grinned good-naturedly. “You with either of those dudes? I promise it’s all in good fun.”

Geoff had stiffened at his question as he flipped through a magazine in a seat a few feet away. It was obvious from how territorial he’d acted last night and from the flowers he’d sent me—he wanted another try with me.

The receptionist came back and poured us two glasses of champagne and set them on a small table next to my chair.

“Let’s make a toast,” I said to Geoff as Steve went to the back to check on the color girls.

He set down his magazine and strolled over. I took him in, my eyes lingering on his designer jeans and golf shirt. He’d bulked up in the past two years, and it didn’t go unnoticed. His brown eyes glittered at my attention. I blushed. Caught.

“What are we toasting to?” he asked as he handed me a glass. I inhaled his aftershave, a spicy blend I’d bought for him on special occasions. I felt flattered he still wore it.

I nibbled on my lip. “I don’t know. Hope? Love? A good haircut?”

He took my glass from me and set it down. “Forget the toast. Let’s talk.”

I nodded. Steve was still in the back.

He sighed. “First off, I would have come out here sooner, but you weren’t ready. I gave you time, and as soon as I finished undergrad this past semester, the only thing I could think of was seeing you.”

I recalled the socialites. “I’ve noticed you haven’t been lonely.”

He shrugged. “I’m no monk. And judging by the sexual tension between you and rocker boy, you’re no nun.”

“I haven’t slept with him—but I wanted to.”

Pain flashed across his face, but he seemed to readjust as he leaned down and touched my cheek. “You left me eighteen months ago because you needed more time to grieve. I rushed you—I see that now. You packed your bags and walked out of my life, but I’ve never forgotten you.” He took in a quick breath. “I—I want you back.”

“You want the old me back.” I couldn’t be the person he wanted.

“Let me get to know the new you,” he said softly, and kissed me on the lips. With gentleness, his lips parted mine, his tongue tasting me. The kiss took me by surprise, yet I fell into it and kissed him back, part of me yearning for my past and someone who had loved me—
still loved me
?

“At least that part of us hasn’t changed,” he whispered against my lips.

“I’m a college drop-out with a tapping problem,” I murmured.

“You can still go back.”

“You think the Manhattan School of Music would have me?”

A fire lit in his eyes. “I’ll hand in the application myself. Better yet, I’ll call up the chancellor and request a meeting. You were a prodigy, Violet. They’d be nuts to not let you in.”

I tried to picture me sitting in a classroom now. It seemed far-fetched, plus I’d burned bridges when I left. Friends I hadn’t called back. Professors I’d ignored.

“Come back to New York,” he implored.

I sighed. “I have the orphanage to think of. I haven’t been as active as I should have, but that’s going to change. I have a gala to plan.”

He grabbed my hand. “Open another one in New York.”

Perhaps.

But something—or someone—was holding me back.

And then there were all the memories.

My stomach knotted, and I closed my eyes briefly and then met his intense ones. “Geoff, my last night in New York, I stood on the ledge of my apartment building for two hours in the freezing cold debating if I was going to jump or not.”

His eyes flared. “God, I’m sorry. Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

I stared at my hands. “You didn’t want to know how far I’d cracked. You say you want to get to know me, but the thing is, you may not like the darkness.”

Emotion worked his face. “You’re my heart, Violet, since the moment I saw you. I can’t give up on you.”

And me? I still loved him—in the way you’d love an old movie or a favorite quilt.

Needing a topic change, I picked up our glasses and handed him his. “My parents named me after a comet, so let’s toast to that—to stepping out of the shadows and shining bright.”

“I say we throw a toast to us in there as well. To new beginnings.”

I inhaled sharply at his words, at the heaviness of them. Sebastian had liked new beginnings too.

Not knowing what to say, I held my glass up and we clinked them together.