CHAPTER 7
EVE
I cry myself to sleep, fisting my navy sheets. I feel like I’m melting from the heat, but I refuse to take his sweatshirt off. It smells like him—and even though part of me wants to shred the sweatshirt with my bare hands and burn it—just the thought of removing it from my body makes me cry even harder.
In my heart, I know Vincent has good intentions. He wants to make sure I understand what happened. He doesn’t ever want me to believe falsehood. But what if he tells me he was fucking her the entire time he saw me? How am I supposed to know he isn’t going to tell me something equally as horrible? I spent a year wishing he’d be open and honest, and now all I want to do is beg him to keep his mouth shut.
Finally, my body drifts into a restless sleep.
Sometime later, I hear a hard knock at my door. At first, I hear it in my dreams, but after a few bangs, I spring out of bed. Squinting at the clock, it’s one o’clock in the afternoon. I stumble to my door and open it, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“Eve? I’ve been calling your phone all morning. Thank God you’re here and not at Vincent’s!”
Claire barges into my bedroom, shutting the door behind us. “Vincent.” Her eyes practically bug out of her head. “Eve. You and Vincent!” She’s practically bouncing on the soles of her feet, actively waiting for a reply.
“What are you staring at me like that for? I just woke up and I’ve been here all night, okay? Calm down.”
“Well, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that man wants you. Badly. He couldn’t take his eyes off you all night! By the way, DMX was sick! But whatever. Wash up. Let’s go out to eat and talk!” She looks me up and down, noticing the large black sweatshirt I’m wearing. I ignore her stare. For all she knows, it’s my brother’s.
She makes herself at home in the chair by my desk and pulls out a book from her enormous purse. I stare at her in confusion, but she isn’t minding me. After a moment, she lifts her head. “Move it, Eve, and get your ass to the bathroom. I’m staaaarving.”
I let myself out of the room, too emotionally exhausted to argue.
Under the shower spray, my mind plays back last night’s events. Vincent. Vincent. Vincent. His lips. His hands. Dancing. Our fight. His half admission of love. What am I going to do? He wants to talk. He wants to tell me everything so there won’t be any more secrets. Is he going to tell me about the family business with Daniela? And do I even want to know the truth? I’ve spent my life trying to stay away from that bullshit. How is this happening to me?
I walk back into the room physically refreshed, but still unsure what I’m supposed to tell Claire. I change on autopilot, lost in my own head.
She’s so engrossed in her book that she barely registers I’m ready to go. I glance at the cover of the paperback she’s reading and my eyes widen in surprise. It’s a hot guy with a naked torso, covered in tattoos.
“What are you reading?” I ask, suppressing a chuckle.
She slams her book shut, turning red. “Um, nothing…”
“Tell me you’re reading porn right now.” I bite the side of my cheek, doing my best not to burst into laughter.
“It’s not porn! It’s really good actually!” I move closer to read the cover when she hides the book behind her back. “It’s about this guy in a motorcycle club…and…this girl, well, she was a stripper at first, but then—” She stops talking and we burst into hysterics.
We leave the room to head over to the dining hall on campus. We both need coffee and greasy food badly. Taking a small booth in the back, my stomach growls louder than I thought possible. Claire tells me she’ll get the food and I should grab the coffee in order to save time.
The cashier gives me a face when she takes my dining card for the two coffees as if she’s annoyed to be helping some hungover rich kid whose daddy makes sure she has enough money in her account each month. I want to tell her that I’m not like that at all; I’m here on full scholarship and the school pays for my food—I’m not some rich asshole. Instead, I just thank her as graciously as I can manage, and walk back to our booth, holding both our mugs of coffee.
Claire sits down right after me, setting a green tray in front of us. Relief settles in my stomach as I unwrap a gigantic egg-and-cheese sandwich, immediately taking a huge bite. While I’m chewing, I pour a small packet of creamer into my coffee mug and watch the color turn from black to light brown. I put the cup to my lips and hum. “Ah, coffee.”
“Okay, Eve. I’m ready. Tell me everything.” Claire’s eyes are shining with excitement as she scoots forward in her seat. Even though I’m a private person, I feel like I can trust her with at least a general outline of events. And the truth is, I’m relieved to have a friend to share this with. Everything has gotten so complicated, and I want support. I know that I need to come clean with Janelle, too.
I clear my throat. “Well, me and Vincent met one night in the Meatpacking District last year. And we ended up going out a few times.”
Her eyes widen in shock with my admission. I could have told her I had dinner with the President and she probably wouldn’t be as shocked. “Wait. Vincent Borignone took you out? Like, on dates?”
“Um, I guess so?” I stop and look around, making sure no one is eavesdropping. Luckily, everyone around us seems to be busy in their own conversations. “I asked him once what we were doing, but he just said we’re friends.” I shrug. “Look, we have this weird connection. He’s gorgeous, but with him, it’s more than that. I had no clue that he went to school here! And I definitely didn’t know he had a girlfriend.”
She breathes in deeply, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. “Look, Eve. There’s a lot I need to tell you because clearly, you don’t have a clue. You’ve looked him up though, right?” She lifts the salt, shaking it over her eggs.
“Yeah.” I nod. “I finally did, after lunch that day when I met the girls in Phi Alpha.”
“Ah. That’s why you ran out.” She nods in understanding.
“Listen, we all talk about Vincent all the time because of how hot he is. And yes, there are rumors about his mafia connections. But Eve”—she lowers her voice and moves closer to me—“I don’t think they’re just rumors. They say he’s the son of the biggest mobster in Manhattan! And there must be a grain of truth to that, right? I mean, otherwise, why would that rumor even start? And honestly, look at him! He’s scary as fuck! And, Daniela, she’s been with him since her freshman year. I guess that’s three years now—and to my knowledge, they’ve never been on a break. I mean, have you seen her social media accounts? Millions of followers!” She’s rushing to get the words out.
I feel the need to defend myself. “I didn’t even know his last name until lunch! How would I have known he had a girlfriend?”
She lets out a breath but continues. “You know that she’s a socialite, right? Her father owns a huge bank in Central America. They’re billionaires. Her parents had a Debutant Ball for her at the University Club when she turned eighteen, and people said it was insane! They’re not just a college golden couple. They’re like, a global golden couple.” Her green eyes turn to gray as my face drops. It’s obvious that she isn’t enjoying this.
“I’m telling you this because you need to know that they aren’t”—she takes a breath, thinking of the right word—“ordinary. And it’s obvious you and Vincent were into each other last night, but trust me, her claws are in him deep. And if Daniela ever found out about whatever went on last year between you guys, let’s just say your life would be made into a living hell. She’d make sure you were blackballed from all of Greek life and probably every restaurant and club in New York City. Maybe even beyond that.”
My throat tightens. I’m shaking from the anxiety of what I may have gotten myself into. Vincent knows I’m here and he isn’t going to stop until he talks to me. He’s nothing if not persistent.
“I’ll take last night and our conversation to the grave, okay? Don’t worry.” Looking into her face, I see her honesty.
“But, I really didn’t know—”
“I know. Let’s change the subject now, yeah? Just promise me you’ll stay away from him. Seriously, nothing good can come of it.”
I nod my head in agreement, and we spend the rest of our breakfast discussing classes and how to get the best outlines. Apparently, Phi Alpha has an entire room dedicated to notes and exams from almost every professor at school.
When we’re done eating, I hug Claire goodbye and get back to my room to crack open my books.
Around eleven o’clock that night, I get a call from Janelle. “Hey, love. How’s it going?”
I let out a sigh and move to my bed, swallowing back the tears that are resurfacing in my throat. “I don’t know. Something’s come up and...” My heart starts to pound. “There’s a lot I need to tell you.”
“Okay. Now or in person?” Her voice is full of anxiety.
“In person.”
“We’ll do that. How have classes been this week? I hate hearing you sound miserable. Things were so good the last time we spoke.”
I sniffle. “I actually made a new friend and she’s pretty cool. Her name is Claire. But she’s in this sorority and most of the girls seem like bitches. I’m not used to this…”
“Just take it easy,” she says soothingly. “It’s okay to have harder days. Nothing is ever simple. But this is what you’ve been waiting for. Just take it day by day and keep your eye on the prize. Your life isn’t just a wish anymore. It’s happening. Remember that, okay?” I feel the tears welling up heavily in my eyes, and I know if I open my mouth again, the dam will burst. The last thing I want is for her to worry, so I keep my mouth shut.
“Have you spoken to Ms. Levine? I bet she can help you with what you’re feeling. She told me that you’d probably go through something like this at some point.” I drop my head and breathe in and out, and the tears start to drop. I want to tell her about Vincent. No, I need to tell her. I can’t keep it in anymore. But it can’t be over the phone.
“Janelle, are you free tomorrow night for dinner?”
“Yes. And don’t cry, Eve, okay? We’ll be together and everything will be all right.” I hear the kindness in her voice, and it makes my heart squeeze. She’s always got my back.
“O-kay,” I manage to stutter out.
“Cool. I’ll be at your dorm at five. Let’s also stop at Bed Bath, get some shit to make your room more like a home. That’s bound to help, right? Go to sleep now. Everything will look better in the morning.” She hangs up, and I curl into my bed and stare at the wall, images of Daniela and Vincent shifting in front of my eyes like a movie reel.