mean something that you won’t have sex with him? Something is holding you back.
I’ve heard it before, and I can’t even deny it. I can’t explain it either. Giovanni is my secret, a shard of glass buried so deep in my soul it would kill me to remove it.
“Let’s hurry,” I say, my voice hollow. “We don’t want to miss all the fun.”
Chapter Two
I decide on a dark skirt and a black slinky sleeveless top that drapes low in the back. I finish the outfit with a glitter-gold headband that looks half-vintage, half-party girl. I’d love to wear my low black heels so I can dance the night away—it’s more fun than sitting on Shane’s lap while he trades mildly sexist jokes with his buddies. Instead I pull on my four-inch black heels studded with gold Swarovski crystals.
“Gorgeous,” Amy says, but I hear the judgment in her voice.
“They are gorgeous.” I don’t have any right to be indignant, because I’m only wearing them for Shane. He likes me to look a certain way when we go out. That kind of control seems weird to Amy—and, well, maybe to most girls my age. But I was raised to be a mafia princess, someone who shuts her mouth and looks pretty. It’s not a destiny I’ve fulfilled, but some of the lessons never go away.
Amy sighs and adjusts her silver dewdrop choker in the bathroom mirror. She borrowed a silver dress with ruffles and a short hem from my closet so we wouldn’t have to stop at her apartment. “Aren’t you going to Honor’s house tomorrow?”
“Regular Sunday night. Why? You want some real food?” We usually subsist on the food stands scattered around campus. There’s a pretzel-dog guy outside the art history museum who knows my order before I say a word. Ever since my sister got married, she’s turned into a regular Martha Stewart. Her house is like some country-chic magazine spread with fresh-baked muffins on the counter.
Amy clips a strand of pink hair and shakes her head so it blends. “Nah, I’m good.” There’s a suspicious pause while she adjusts hair that already looks fine. “You should bring Shane. Introduce him.”
My heart stops. That would be a disaster. I can only imagine Shane swaggering into my sister’s picturesque bungalow like a bull in a china shop. “How about no.”
“Why not? At some point you have to tell Honor about him.”
My sister, Honor, is already overprotective. Kip used to keep a cool head, but he’s turned into a regular caveman now that they’re married. They’d probably bar the door as soon as they saw him—and his flashy Viper. “You just want me to tell because you know she’ll freak out.”
“Anyone who cares about you would freak out,” she says. “He’s not good enough for you.”
I focus on the bracelet clasp I’m fighting with, blinking against the sting in my eyes. “Why can’t you just be happy for me? You’re my best friend.”
Her gentle hands take the bracelet from me. In a few seconds she has it attached around my wrist. Then her arms enfold me in a tight hug that steals all the air from my lungs.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers fiercely.
My eyes squeeze shut, and I breathe in her familiar scent. Her arms are more comforting than Shane’s have ever been. “Why can’t you be a guy?”
She pulls back, grinning. “If I were a guy, I’d bang you in a heartbeat.”
My laugh is a little watery. “Thanks.”
“Hey,” she says. “We don’t have to go out tonight. Forget boys. They only bring drama, right?”
“Nah, we should go. We both look fabulous.”
“That’s right. Let him see what he can’t have.”
I wince because that’s not what I’m trying to do.
And I know that Shane won’t accept this forever.
“Do me a favor?” I ask softly.
“Anything.”
“Leave the Shane thing alone for tonight?” There was a look in his eye, a hardness that made me shiver. He doesn’t like being denied. He comes from a wealthy New England family. He’s not used to being told no. “One
I’ve heard it before, and I can’t even deny it. I can’t explain it either. Giovanni is my secret, a shard of glass buried so deep in my soul it would kill me to remove it.
“Let’s hurry,” I say, my voice hollow. “We don’t want to miss all the fun.”
Chapter Two
I decide on a dark skirt and a black slinky sleeveless top that drapes low in the back. I finish the outfit with a glitter-gold headband that looks half-vintage, half-party girl. I’d love to wear my low black heels so I can dance the night away—it’s more fun than sitting on Shane’s lap while he trades mildly sexist jokes with his buddies. Instead I pull on my four-inch black heels studded with gold Swarovski crystals.
“Gorgeous,” Amy says, but I hear the judgment in her voice.
“They are gorgeous.” I don’t have any right to be indignant, because I’m only wearing them for Shane. He likes me to look a certain way when we go out. That kind of control seems weird to Amy—and, well, maybe to most girls my age. But I was raised to be a mafia princess, someone who shuts her mouth and looks pretty. It’s not a destiny I’ve fulfilled, but some of the lessons never go away.
Amy sighs and adjusts her silver dewdrop choker in the bathroom mirror. She borrowed a silver dress with ruffles and a short hem from my closet so we wouldn’t have to stop at her apartment. “Aren’t you going to Honor’s house tomorrow?”
“Regular Sunday night. Why? You want some real food?” We usually subsist on the food stands scattered around campus. There’s a pretzel-dog guy outside the art history museum who knows my order before I say a word. Ever since my sister got married, she’s turned into a regular Martha Stewart. Her house is like some country-chic magazine spread with fresh-baked muffins on the counter.
Amy clips a strand of pink hair and shakes her head so it blends. “Nah, I’m good.” There’s a suspicious pause while she adjusts hair that already looks fine. “You should bring Shane. Introduce him.”
My heart stops. That would be a disaster. I can only imagine Shane swaggering into my sister’s picturesque bungalow like a bull in a china shop. “How about no.”
“Why not? At some point you have to tell Honor about him.”
My sister, Honor, is already overprotective. Kip used to keep a cool head, but he’s turned into a regular caveman now that they’re married. They’d probably bar the door as soon as they saw him—and his flashy Viper. “You just want me to tell because you know she’ll freak out.”
“Anyone who cares about you would freak out,” she says. “He’s not good enough for you.”
I focus on the bracelet clasp I’m fighting with, blinking against the sting in my eyes. “Why can’t you just be happy for me? You’re my best friend.”
Her gentle hands take the bracelet from me. In a few seconds she has it attached around my wrist. Then her arms enfold me in a tight hug that steals all the air from my lungs.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers fiercely.
My eyes squeeze shut, and I breathe in her familiar scent. Her arms are more comforting than Shane’s have ever been. “Why can’t you be a guy?”
She pulls back, grinning. “If I were a guy, I’d bang you in a heartbeat.”
My laugh is a little watery. “Thanks.”
“Hey,” she says. “We don’t have to go out tonight. Forget boys. They only bring drama, right?”
“Nah, we should go. We both look fabulous.”
“That’s right. Let him see what he can’t have.”
I wince because that’s not what I’m trying to do.
And I know that Shane won’t accept this forever.
“Do me a favor?” I ask softly.
“Anything.”
“Leave the Shane thing alone for tonight?” There was a look in his eye, a hardness that made me shiver. He doesn’t like being denied. He comes from a wealthy New England family. He’s not used to being told no. “One
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