Page 7 of Penthouse Prince
But before our relationship turned to heartbreak, it was different. It was sweet and easy, and everything you’d imagine your first love to be.
I still remember the night things changed between us. It was early October, homecoming weekend at our high school. While every other junior in town was getting ready to go to the big homecoming dance, I was sulking on the couch, barely watching some made-for-TV movie. Upstairs, my brother and a few buddies were drinking beer they’d not-so-sneakily taken from the fridge in our basement. I could only assume Lex was on his way to grab a few more brews when he came downstairs and spotted me, elbow deep in a bag of cheese puffs.
“Weren’t you supposed to be at the dance?” he asked, his dark brows knitting together.
I nodded, licking cheese dust from my thumb. “Yeah, but Sarah Jo got food poisoning from the nachos at the football game last night.”
“That sucks. For her and for you.”
The couch was big, easily seating four people comfortably, but when he sat down, he sat right next to me, so close that his denim-clad thigh pressed against mine. It was enough for my teenage hormones to go into overdrive, so much so that I nearly didn’t hear the next thing he said.
“I could take you, if you want.”
My heart started pounding as anticipation rushed warmly through me. I leaned in, unsure if I’d heard him right. “Did you say you’d take me?”
“Sure.”
“I thought seniors were too cool to go to the dance.” I gestured toward the ceiling and the raucous laughter of my brother and his friends upstairs. “Exhibit A.”
Lex lifted a shoulder, the slightest hint of a smile on his lips. “Yeah, but I don’t want you to be stuck at home.” He paused for a moment, weighing his words, then closed his eyes and went for it. “I bet you look gorgeous in your dress.”
Electricity prickled down my spine. Was he being serious? Lex was a senior, not to mention my brother’s best friend. Both of those things made it clear that he was very off-limits. But right then, as he shifted his hand to rest on my knee, all those limits dissolved into dust and floated out the window on the October breeze.
“I—I guess I’ll just have to find another time to wear it,” I stammered. It was my best attempt at flirting, at the time, and although it wasn’t much, it seemed to work.
“Like on a date?” he asked, one brow lifted suggestively. “Do you date?”
“I haven’t, no. But I haven’t really been asked out.”
“Well, I’m asking you out right now. I want to take you out. Somewhere nice, so you can wear your dress and I can see you in it. What do you say?”
The blast of a car horn yanks me from my trip down memory lane and throws me right back into the present, where I’ve totally missed the fact that the light turned green and I’m holding up traffic.
Oops. I give an apologetic wave to the car behind me as I pull into the restaurant’s lot, gripping my gearshift a little tighter than usual as I slide it into park.
Okay, Corrigan. Time to shake that memory off.
Yes, Lexington Dane was a sweetheart and a charmer. Emphasis on the was. That was before he up and left the state, and my life, without a backward glance. So unless the favor he wants from me is a slap across the face and a kick in the you-know-where, there’s not a favor in this world I would do for him.
Inside the restaurant, Sarah Jo has already settled into our usual booth near the back, where she’s happily munching on chips and salsa. If memory serves me right, this is our third time here this month.
“Fancy seeing you here,” she says, grinning as I scoot into the spot across from her.
“Us? At Pepe’s?” I gasp, feigning shock as I dramatically press a hand to my chest. “Who would’ve ever guessed?”
We’re still laughing when our waiter arrives, asking if we have questions about the specials.
“Nope.” Sarah Jo laughs, having not even looked at the menu. “I’ll have a lime marg on the rocks, and she’ll have a frozen strawberry margarita, extra salt.”
God, I love this woman. No wonder we’ve been friends our entire lives.
When the server disappears back to the kitchen, we get to work on the chips and salsa, laying down a solid layer of carbs to soak up the tequila we’re about to consume.
“So, what’s your game plan this summer?” Sarah Jo asks, wiping tortilla chip crumbs from the corner of her mouth. “Are you finally going to download that dating app I’ve been telling you about?”
I shake my head, holding up a finger while I finish chewing. “No need. I’ve got a hot date with the library and then I’m putting my booty in the sand at Wilmington Beach for as many days as possible until September rolls around and I get back to the classroom.”
