She looks between us and frowns, and I realize she’s awaiting a reply.
“Uh, yes, we’ve met before actually,” I reply, trying not to look affected while still feeling the heat of the blush.
Chase straightens as if nothing has taken place between us. He smooths his black shirt with his hand, drawing attention to the outline of muscle underneath. My mouth waters. While every other man here is wearing a tux or a suit, he’s dressed in an all-black button down tucked into well fitted black pants. He’s casual, and yet with his posture and air of confidence, he appears to be the most formal and well-dressed of them all.
Chase doesn’t bother pasting on the usual fake smile people tend to use when my stepmother is near. He looks unaffected at best. He takes a half step between us as if blocking me from her view, knowing I need a moment to compose myself after he just assaulted my every thought and feeling with his wicked words.
“Regina,” he greets flatly. His lips are tight, and I can’t tell if he’s irritated that she’s interrupted us or if he doesn’t care for my stepmother. “I’ve actually known Neve since elementary school. Although, I can’t say we were exactly friends. We are…acquainted with one another.” His eyes rake over my gown slowly. “We were just reconnecting.”
Anyone listening would think his sentence formal and making small talk, but I hear the innuendo in his voice as much as I feel it. But this too must be a product of my imagination, because if Chase wants me, then why would he try and take over my father’s company? Or maybe he’s one of those bored rich kids and this is all a game to him.
Suddenly, it’s as if all of the oxygen in the room is being sucked up, and I can’t breathe.
“Excuse me, I need some air,” I announce, spinning on my heel.
“Wait,” Chase calls out, tugging at my wrist.
The skin he’s wrapped his large hand around feels as if it’s burning. I look down to where he’s touching me, then back up to him but he doesn’t release his grip.
Glancing back over his shoulder to where my stepmother is now flirting with a man in a black mask, he lowers his voice. “There’s something I have to tell you. Something you should know. It’s important.”
“I know all I need to know about you.” Tugging my hand free, I square my shoulders and look up so that I’m staring right into his hauntingly beautiful eyes. “I know what you’re doing, and there’s absolutely nothing you can say that I want to hear. Not now. Not ever.”
His eyes narrow at me, and he steps closer. “You know nothing about me.”
“And you know nothing about me,” I reply.
The room disappears around us. The music stops. It’s just Chase and me standing there as he tips my chin up so he can look deep into my eyes. I’ve never felt so exposed. He searches my gaze, looking for answers to questions he doesn’t ask. Suddenly, he steps away. “I know more than you think,” he says, then disappears into the crowd.
3
Neve
I growl in frustration as the cool night air hits my face. I stumble on the concrete patio, and with a few dozen people looking on, I reach down and remove my heels. With sure steps, I find Regina’s driver and request he take me home. Though his forehead wrinkles, he acquiesces. It’s a quick shot back to the city. The entire way, I can’t stop thinking about the man with the green eyes who lit a fire of desire inside me until I remember how he’s trying to buy my father’s company right out from under me. I can’t figure him out.
When we reach the city, I cut right through my building and exit through the back. I pad down the concrete steps into the lush green garden. I exhale a sigh of relief, but the relief itself never comes. Tonight was supposed to be a night of new experiences, and instead it was a reminder that I’ll always be very much alone.
I’d hoped to make friends.
Instead, I received an education on my enemy.
I drop my shoes in the grass that clings to my feet as I walk around in circles. It’s biggest backyard in New York, and my father was proud of it. The hedges are all circular and surrounded with flowers replaced frequently for their seasonal colors. In the center of the circle is the fountain my father had constructed after I was born and my mother passed away. Her name is carved into the stone fashioned to look like an old wishing well complete with water running out of the suspended bucket into the fountain below.
I sit on the ledge and peer into the water, the moon and stars shine above me. “I miss you mom and dad,” I say, spinning the water with my fingers, distorting my reflection.
I spot something shiny on the ledge and reach over to pick it up. It’s a quarter. “Now is as good of a time as any,” I say, tossing it into the well. I close my eyes, then stare into the water, deciding on what my wish should be. For the company? For friends? For—
“I know what I’d wish for,” a deep voice rumbles from behind me.
I turn and am about to fall off the ledge into the water, but strong muscular arms manage to grab me and hold me firm against a hard chest. I look up and find myself looking into the same bright green eyes of the man I was about to wish away from my life.
I push him away. “Maybe you should make a wish for a conscience.”
He smirks and takes a step forward, crowding me against the ledge of the fountain. I reach back and hold onto it with both hands so I don’t go tumbling in. “I only wish for things that are possible.”
“Why are you here?” I ask, not wanting to play at whatever game he’s trying to start. “Why did you follow me?”
“It’s your birthday. I have a gift for you,” he says.
His nearness is rendering me stupid. Again, just like at the ball, my entire body is alive with sensation. He smells like soap and a mild cologne. His jaw has dark stubble, which is in complete contradiction to all the clean-shaven elite like Seth. But then again, Chase may have grown up as one of them, but there’s nothing about him that’s the same. His sleeves are now rolled up, showing off arms lined with colorful tattoos, and there’s an unmistakable gleam in his eye. A dark hint of what lies beneath. There’s a strong tingling between my legs that’s so persistent I press my thighs together to try and alleviate the sensation, but I only manage to make it worse.
So much worse.
“I’m all good on gifts,” I say, trying to regain some control.
“Oh, what did Seth get you?” His gaze leaves mine as it trails down my body then back up again. I grip the ledge harder, because I’m shaking and afraid my knees will give out. How can I lust for and hate a man so much at the same time?
“Why would Seth get me anything?”
“He wouldn’t. I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t your boyfriend,” he says, his nostrils flaring.
“What does it matter if he’s my boyfriend or what he might have gotten me for my birthday?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
His gaze licks the top of my rounded breasts.
“What do you want for your birthday?” he asks.
I shake my head. To be noticed. To feel alive. To live.
“What every girl wants,” I say casually, shuffling my feet in the grass.