“Where are you going to school?”
“Not too far, just outside Vegas, a small state school, but I’m the first person in my family to go to college.”
He didn’t look at me with pity or like I was a girl from the wrong side of town. Instead, he smiled, almost as if he were proud of me, and I fell harder for this richie dude.
“What year are you?” I asked, sipping at my drink.
“Almost finished. One more semester in college in Cali, and then I’ll be here full time in Reno. Taking over the family biz like my mom wants. Even with her kicking me to the curb, I can’t seem to let go of what she asked. Must be all the horror shows I lived through when it came to her.”
“I just graduated from high school,” I said sheepishly, not knowing what else to say.
“I figured, when you said you were just starting college.” His mouth formed that smirk again, the sexiest one I’d ever seen—cocky and endearing at the same time. “I’d thought I’d be going home to La-La Land for one last summer, but my mom seriously wasn’t having it. It’s all cool, though, because I’m getting down with my dad’s shit life now. Like sweet-talking my stepmom into doing what I want.”
I laughed and took another sip.If he thinks this is a shit life, he should come see where I live.
My feelings must have shown on my face because he said, “Sorry for the bad attitude. She’s just ... she’s not my mom. Nan’s sort of bitchy to me, but I don’t think it’s me. That’s all I can say. My stepmother is closer to our age than my dad’s, pushing out one kid after another, securing her future with him.”
“It’s fine. I get it must be difficult. But you know, calling her bitchy ... it’s just not necessary.” I swiped my hand, wet from the condensation on my plastic cup, on my jean shorts, not sure where I came up with the courage to speak up to Aston.
“You know what? You’re right, but I’ll tell you this. She sucks.”
I nodded, not wanting to cause any more waves.
“Let me get you another drink.” He motioned toward my empty cup.
When did that happen?
“Actually, it’s cool. I’ll be the one to drive us home later, so I’m good.”
Recently turned eighteen, I didn’t need any trouble. My mom had sent me to school early, desperate for full-time childcare, and I’d been fine. But I didn’t think it was a good time to mention any of that.
It was quiet between the two of us for a moment, grunge music now filtering around us.
“Listen, Bexley, this is weird, I know. You’re not supposed to fraternize with the members, and I can tell you’re a rule follower. I’m ... I’m probably all wrong for you, but I want to take you out for real. Please?”
My heart pounded so hard, I was sure he could see it.
Aston was right about not fraternizing with members, but not everybody followed the rules. Mike had been screwing Milly for weeks—in the family locker room, no less. Up until tonight, their relationship had been secret.
Sneaking around wasn’t really my style, but nothing made my pulse race like the possibility of dating Aston Prescott.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “I don’t want you to get into trouble.”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me close, cupping my cheek as he kissed me. Gently, not rough or demanding, but tender. His mouth ghosted over mine, grazing my lip gloss and softly touching my soul.
“Oh. I’m. Sure,” he murmured.
Three little words, and I was a goner.
Bexley
After the party on the golf course, Aston came to see me every day. He’d pop into the back entrance of the snack shack, always toward the end of the lunch rush, most of the time shirtless and wearing black Ray-Bans and swim trunks.
Every single time, he’d say, “Aston Prescott, pleased to meet you,” with a smirk on his mouth and a twinkle in his eye. Somehow, he knew how his confident demeanor appealed to me, an inexperienced girl smitten with a guy with the perceived power.
There was something else to Aston, though, underneath all the heavy armor. At least, I was young and hopeful and believed so.
Over the next few weeks, he took me on fast car rides and out to eat—neither of which were staples in my regular life. We’d sit, staring googly-eyed at each other over spicy Tex-Mex, washing down the heat and lust with Mexican beer. All the while, I dared to dream of this being my reality.
