“Most being the operative word. Some of them insisted on bringing guests.”
He blows out a breath. “Downside of having an exclusive club—it’s filled with a bunch of rich, entitled assholes.”
“Don’t you mean a bunch of rich, entitled asshole’s kids?”
He shrugs. “Oh, come on. I threw in a few tech bros and models to keep it interesting. Oh, shit?—”
My eyes fly to the camera just as Hendrix comes onto the middle of the dance floor. Where the fuck did he come from?
“What is going on?”
“I have no clue, but I think it has something to do with that guy right there.” He points to some random guy on the dance floor.
“Where the fuck did Darren go?”
“Darius,” Jonas says.
“Huh?”
“The drummer. His name is Darius. Didn’t you research the band?”
“No,” I grumble. Hendrix looks pissed and appears to be yelling at the guy. The brunette is visibly upset. “I was too busy making sure we had extra security and top-shelf booze. Shit, do you think we should get Matteo?” Matteo is in charge of our security and would be either in the security room or making rounds.
Before Jonas can answer, the guy who appears to be wasted quickly scurries off. Hendrix’s gaze drifts and, for a split second, I swear he looks directly at me. I freeze and watch him through the security feed, instantly feeling like I’ve been transported back in time. I can practically smell the salt of the ocean, hear his mom’s musical laughter floating through the house, and see his sister’s shy smile as we walk side by side down the beach.
I clear my throat, feeling a bit embarrassed when I realize he was looking at the bar where Darius had taken up residence. Some kind of emotion flickers across his face before he shifts hisattention back to the brunette, and a moment later, they head toward the VIP suites near the back of the main floor.
“Looks like he took care of it all by himself,” Jonas says. “And he even got the girl.”
“Everything worked out then,” I mutter, rising from my seat. “It always does.”
Especially when your last name is Creed.
Chapter Three
HOLLIS
BEFORE…
I’ve been at this school for less than five minutes, and I already know I’m gonna hate it.
Everything is shiny and new, including the students, and the parking lot looks like a dealership for the rich and famous.
My mom is in heaven.
This is the kind of lifestyle she thinks she was born for. The kind of lifestyle she thinks she deserves.
She deserves—not us. Just her.
I’m just here because I have to be. She’s not exactly sure who my father is, and her parents died years ago. So there’s no one for her to pawn me off on, and she stopped pretending to love me a long time ago.
Her latest boyfriend, Todd Lockwood, is the richest man my mom has ever dated. He made a fortune selling some app that does something I don’t give a shit about, and now he spends all his time golfing and trading stocks. He met my mom at a catering event she was working.
Now, here I am, living in fucking Malibu, going to a school that literally looks like something out of a nineties teen drama.
I look up from the paper schedule the registrar gave me, searching for a classroom number, and that’s when I see her.
Standing a few feet away by the lockers, she’s easily the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Even with her head turned slightly away, I can see the subtle slope of her tiny button nose and pink pouty lips. Her hair is long and golden blonde. She’s tall. The black cutoff shorts she has on over a pair of ripped tights make her legs seem to go on for days.
