Despite my immediate acceptance earlier in the day, I wanted to turn around and leave. I felt less than insignificant in my jean cutoffs and white tank. Taking in the other girls, dressed in designer sparkly tank tops and miniskirts, all I wanted to do was tuck tail and get the hell out of there.
“Hey, Bexley ... glad you came,” a deep voice rumbled near me, sending chills through me. Of course, the owner of the gravelly, absolutely male voice turned toward Milly. “Aston Prescott,” he said. Just like he had with me, he stuck his hand out and gave his spine-tingling, cocky introduction to my best friend.
She, of course, knew what to do in response, and tucked her hand in his. “Milly Shump.” She said her name with pride, even though it meant nothing to this crowd.
“Nice to meet you, Milly. Can I get you two something to drink?”
“Heya, Milly-girl,” Mike Richards said, interrupting Aston as he came up behind Milly and put his arms around her waist. “Whatcha doing here?” He hoisted her from behind and spun her around, her loose blond waves shimmering in the glow from the lanterns.
“AstoninvitedBexley.”
He set her down and shoved his dark hair behind his ear, seemingly searching for the right words. “I would’ve invited you, but I didn’t know if you should come. Know what I mean?”
“Not really, but I’m here now, so you can get me a drink.” Milly looped her arm through his and walked off, leaving me withSenatorPrescott.
“That wasn’t weird or anything,” Aston said to me.
“They have a thing. I’m pretty sure it’s on the DL, or at least itwason the DL. Looks like they’re outed now,” I said, glancing at Milly fawning all over Mike.
“Come on, let’s get you a drink.” Aston ignored anything related to Mike and Milly, as if nothing was as important as me. Taking my hand, he led me toward the bar-on-a-blanket. “What’s your poison, Bexley Rivers?”
“Vodka and cranberry?” I eyed the bottles, pretty sure what they had wasn’t the cheap vodka I was used to.
“Coming right up.” He knelt on the blanket, his quads flexing under his straight-leg khaki shorts, making it hard for me to tear my eyes away.
My gaze continue to wander over his bicep peeking out from the sleeve of his white polo shirt as he mixed my cocktail. When he stood again, I swallowed a mysterious lump in my throat. Desire? Lust?
Not seeming to notice, he handed me my drink. “Wait a sec. Let me refill mine.”
Of course I waited. Where was I going to go? I’d been cast in a spell where Aston was the puppet master and I was the dutiful puppet on strings.
He poured a healthy dose of Jack and Coke and stood again. “Cheers,” he said before clinking plastic cups with me and taking a swig of his.
Afraid to miss a moment of this, I took a small sip, forbidding my eyes from leaving his.
Gathering my hand in his again, Aston walked me out onto the golf course and plopped down in the grass, taking me to the ground with him. Although it all felt surreal to me, Aston acted like this was totally normal.
“Are you guys going to get into trouble for this?” I couldn’t help but ask, taking in the party happening all around us. People and noise were everywhere, and I was sure it would be a hefty cleanup on a very expensive golf course. I couldn’t imagine this flying with management.
“Nope. The club and the homeowners would rather us keep our business in the club than cause trouble outside the place. It doesn’t look good for our families or them. So we party here.”
“Oh. You live here too?”
“Yeah, though I’m sort of new. Actually, I used to visit on school breaks, so I caught on quickly to the unwritten rules.”
“New?” I took another small sip of my drink, the expensive vodka burning my throat and warming my belly.
“I thought you would’ve heard. I moved here full-time with my dad. My mom was sick of doing the single-parent thing and shipped me off to live here with good old dad at the end of the semester. Apparently, it was all anyone was talking about.”
“No. Well, I try to stay out of member gossip ... and I don’t really know anyone who would tell me anything, anyway. But that sucks, though. Do you miss her, your mom?”
“Not really. I was sick of picking up the pieces. My parents divorced several years ago, but she never bounced back. This last time she lost it, decided she didn’t need me around anymore. Said I only reminded her of my dad. She gave me my marching orders—run the company, take all that was owed to me, and get out.” He ran a hand through his unruly hair, his gaze drifting over me.
“Wow,” was all I could say, not sure if I was referring to his mom or him. It was just simply wow to me—the concept of having money.
“Yep, wow. So I’m new around here. But I’d much rather you tell me about you, Bexley.” His eyes continued to focus on me, filled with interest and confidence, as blue as the water in the hot tub by the pool.
I shrugged. “I’m new to the club too. Just working here for the summer and making money for school.”
