Infamous Park Avenue Prince: Chapter 8
I HAD TO hand it to West. He’d promised an amazing lunch and somehow gone above and beyond my expectations. Though it wasn’t just the food that had made the hour enjoyable—West kept things entertaining, that was for sure. He wasn’t anything like my usual crowd, and though we didn’t seem to have much in common, there was something about the guy that made me want to hang out again.
I eyed the last bite of dessert, a La Madeline au Truffe chocolate that had been presented in a golden tray with sugar pearls on the bottom. It was the biggest truffle I’d ever seen, and from what our server had said, also the most expensive in the world.
Did I want to know how much that meant? No. No, I did not.
But I’d joked to West that I wanted something expensive and outrageous, though to me that meant something more in the twenty-dollar range. The truffle was not…that.
West pushed the tray toward me. “Better not let it go to waste.”
My stomach was already full to bursting, but he was right. I’d feel like a shit human leaving so much money on the table.
I scooped up the last bite, and the moment the chocolate touched my tongue, it was utter heaven. Closing my eyes, I savored the taste I’d probably never enjoy again.
“You know,” West said, “I’ve never actually seen anyone climax from dessert before. This is a first.”
My first instinct was to deny, but he was right—I’d been moaning with every damn bite to the point of embarrassment.
Grinning, I sat back and rubbed my stomach, content as a housecat. “Can you blame me? That was unreal.”
West returned my smile as he slipped his card to the server. “Aren’t you glad you took me up on my offer?”
“Hell yes.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. How was I ever gonna go back to subs for lunch? I was ruined. Forever.
“See? I can’t be that bad, right?”
“True. You didn’t poison the food or dump it in my lap. Could’ve been worse.”
West shook his head, but his eyes flickered with mischief. “Yes, it could’ve. I’d never pull a prank so pedestrian.”
“Of course not.” I laughed.
After signing the bill—which I didn’t dare take a peek at, since I didn’t want to throw up such a delicious meal—West checked the time on his phone and rose to his feet. “We’d better go unless you’ve reconsidered your stance on cutting class.”
“Nope.” I jumped up and said a quick thanks to the server before following him outside. As much as I didn’t want to cut my break short, I also wasn’t about to skip out on anything, especially my first week.
The sun beating down on us, combined with the hot pavement, had sweat beading my brow as we made our way back to Astor. I was ready for the heat wave to be over. Tanning by the beach? Sure. Burning in the city? Not my favorite.
“Thank you, by the way,” I said, as the back of Astor came into view. “Lunch was unbelievable and way too much, but it was amazing.”
West gave me a sidelong glance, his eyes covered by a black pair of Aviators. His tawny hair looked even lighter under the harsh sun, almost dark blond, and when he grinned at me, the white of his perfectly straight teeth was almost blinding.
“We’ll do it again.”
I knew myself well enough to know I wouldn’t let him spend that much on a meal anytime soon, but the fact that he wanted to hang out again… I didn’t mind that. It was nice to have someone to talk to, especially a guy as completely opposite to myself as West. I didn’t understand all the warnings about him. He seemed likeable enough, just a bit cocky due to his circumstances in life.
Hell, maybe I’d introduce him to a delicious street dog and bring him closer to my level.
We parted ways once we hit the halls, and true to his word, West had managed to get me back in time. I was surprised I managed to keep my eyes open through the whole hour of class—food coma and all—but somehow I rallied, and by the time it was over I made my way to the library and found a quiet corner just in case my eyes did decide to shut for a few minutes.
I settled into one of the empty desks in an alcove of books and put my bag down on the seat beside me, hoping to dissuade any company. Not that there was a line of people waiting to sit with me.
I pulled out my laptop and had powered it up, ready to get some of my reading done for the assignment Professor Kingston had given us on day one, when I felt someone stop by the edge of the desk. Determined to keep to myself, I didn’t bother raising my eyes. I’d done enough socializing for one day, and if the person was lost, I didn’t know where anything was in here so I’d be no help anyway.
A second later, the chair across from me was pulled out and a bag dumped down on the table. Apparently this person couldn’t take a hint.
I let out a sigh, raised my eyes, and locked on to the stranger from the coffee bar—Caleb.
“Good place to make more friends,” he said as he slid into the chair.
“Not trying to make friends—”
“Clearly.” He looked around the empty space I’d hidden away in. With his beanie and the headphones around his neck, it was no wonder West had known who I was talking about when I mentioned his name. It seemed this getup was Caleb’s go-to. “But too bad. I’m bored, and you need a friend, so here I am.”
Geez, what was it about people here pushing their way into my life? Sure, I didn’t have a lot of options going on right now, but we were less than a week in. Friends would form naturally over time, right?
“I have a friend, remember? You saw me talking to him this morning.”
“West LaRue?” Caleb snorted. “He’s not your friend, trust me.”
I sat back and looked over my computer at Caleb. “Trust you, huh? And why would I do that? I don’t know you.”
“True, but you don’t know LaRue either.”
“And you do?”
“I do.”
Uh huh… Well, West hadn’t been wrong—Caleb really didn’t like him. But what else was it he’d said? It wasn’t him personally that Caleb had an issue with; he was guilty by association.
“And what’s so bad about West that I shouldn’t be hanging around him? We had lunch today, and he didn’t seem all that—”
“You had lunch with him?” Caleb sat forward.
“Yeah. He’s my only friend, remember? And I’ve got to eat.”
Caleb’s brows slashed down. “You shouldn’t be eating with him.”
“Why not?” I said, a little harsher than I intended. But I was getting annoyed on West’s behalf. I mean, the guy had been nothing but cool with me, and literally everyone I ran into seemed to be warning me off. What the hell was the problem here?
“Because people like West only do things that benefit them, that’s why.”
I scoffed. “Okay. So having lunch with me and being nice is going to benefit him how? I’m new to Astor and a pariah among my peers. I hardly think he’s in this for himself.”
Which was exactly what I’d told West. I had nothing to offer to the friendship. Nothing but my moral compass, apparently, and Caleb was making it obvious West was in dire need of one of those without offering up specifics.
I closed my laptop, annoyed all over again that the only two people that had bothered to talk to me in the last handful of days seemed to hate one another. But since I didn’t know jack shit about this Caleb guy, I was going to give West the benefit of the doubt.
I reached for my bag, and as I went to shove my laptop inside, Caleb sat forward again and put his hand on top of it.
“Wait. Wait. I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “I’m coming off like a total asshole, and that’s not me.” He let out a sigh and slumped back in his seat. “Those guys just bring out the worst in me. Stay, seriously. I’ll shut up about them.”
“Promise?” I eyed him closely, trying to gauge his sincerity when he flashed a crooked smile.
“I’ll try?”
That was better than nothing, and he was going out of his way to be nice to me. It couldn’t hurt to try to make another friend. Even if he did loathe the only other person I knew around here.
“Okay. So no talk about West and his friends—”
Caleb grunted, and I narrowed my eyes.
“Good. So…” I zeroed in on his ever-present headphones. “You here studying music?”
“Music?”
I gestured toward his neck, and Caleb reached up to touch them.
“Oh, no. They just block out the outside world when I’m trying to be in the zone or, you know, avoid people.” He grinned. “You should get yourself a pair.”
“Would it have stopped you from sitting down?”
“No. I know better. These are an avoidance technique. Very handy.”
I could see that. It wasn’t such a bad idea. “You said they help you get in the zone? The zone for what?”
“My photography, writing.”
That’s right—West asked if Caleb had been carrying around a camera. But I still didn’t see one—not on him, anyway. So I focused on the answer that really piqued my interest. Something we actually had in common.
“You write?”
Caleb shrugged. “More like journal, I guess. I love to document things, people. I love to watch.”
I nodded, a smile of understanding curving my lips. “I write too.”
“You do?”
“Mhmm.”
“What do you write?”
“Novels, short stories, but I really love poetry.”
Caleb’s brows shot up until they almost reached his beanie. “You write poetry?”
I nodded, and Caleb’s lips started to twitch, which instantly put me on the defensive. What the hell? I’d finally felt like we were having a good conversation and now he was laughing at me?
“Is that funny?”
“No.” Caleb shook his head, but started to chuckle.
“Seriously, what is your damn problem?”
“I’m sorry.” He bit down into his lip. “I’m just trying to imagine what you and West have in common, ’cause he sure as shit doesn’t write poetry.”
I glared at him. “You said you wouldn’t talk about him anymore.”
“You’re right, I did, so I suck for bringing it up.”
“Yeah, you do, and we didn’t talk about that anyway. We talked about food trucks versus extravagant restaurants, our exes, you—”
“Me?”
“Yeah, he said you hate him because of association, which is obviously true, but I’m trying not to hold it against you, because you seem halfway decent and I need another friend.”
“Um, thanks?”
“Well, it’s true. All you’ve done since we’ve met is warn me off some guy and been all cagey about it. At least with West we joked around and then he bought me lunch.”
Caleb opened his mouth as though he was about to say something in response, but just as quickly shut it and nodded. “You’re right. You do need another friend, and I need to learn to shut my mouth. Here’s my number.” He reached for the notebook I had on the table and scrawled his cell number across it. “I’m going to let you get back to work, but text me if you want someone to hang out with at a food truck, because I know LaRue didn’t take you to one of those.”
He grabbed his bag, and as he walked off, I felt a pang of guilt hit me. Maybe I’d been too harsh and he was just trying to be nice by looking out for me. I didn’t know. But everything I’d said was true. I’d had fun at lunch today with West. He’d been easy to talk to, friendly to everyone he came into contact with, and, despite his outrageous outlook on life, he intrigued me.
I’d never met anyone like him, and I wanted to know more about him and his friends—something I was going to learn tomorrow night when they picked me up for the concert.
Oh shit, the concert…
I still couldn’t believe I’d agreed to go. I wasn’t usually the type to buck the system and break rules, but it was tickets to see Arrhythmia. How could I say no to that?
I pushed aside any niggling doubts on whether I still wanted to go through with it and went back to work. If I could get this reading done now then I wouldn’t feel half as guilty tomorrow night when I was out enjoying myself.
About twenty minutes later, when the idea of a nap was feeling like a really good one, my phone started to vibrate on the desk. I glanced down at it to see it was an unknown number and was about to ignore it when I saw the words:
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
Hey Golden Boy. You make it to class on time?
West? No, there was no way the text was from him. We hadn’t exchanged numbers. But then again, he had managed to find my classroom without a schedule…
I picked up my phone, and when the next message came through, I knew for certain it was West.
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
Or did you go back to your room and pass out after such an awesome lunch?
I chuckled at how spot-on he was, because that was exactly what I’d wanted to do.
Made it to class. Didn’t pass out. But the paranoia is back. How did you get my number, stalker?
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
Isn’t much I can’t get if I put my mind to it.
I wasn’t sure why, but something about that made me smile. Maybe it was that confidence of his? I wasn’t sure. But damn if he hadn’t told the truth so far. If he wanted to find me, he could. If he wanted my number, he got it. I wondered if there was anything West had ever wanted that he hadn’t been able to get.
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
You’re not going to punk out on me tomorrow, are you?
I wanted to mess with him a little.
I’m sorry, who is this?
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
You know exactly who this is.
Mmm, nope. Not ringing any bells.
I chuckled as the three little dots appeared and then his message came through.
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
I’m your ticket to a good time. Be ready at 10:30. I’ll be coming for you.
Something in my stomach tightened at the message as I wrote back, I’ll be ready. But I quickly brushed it off as nerves as I added “Stalker” to my contacts.
I read over the messages one last time and then put my phone down. If I had any hope of being ready for a night out with West and his friends, I needed to get the rest of this work done so I could pass out early tonight. The last thing I wanted was to not be able to hang tomorrow past curfew—and that was if they managed to find a way to get me out of the dorm.
But if there was one thing I’d learned about West so far, it was that there didn’t seem to be much a Park Avenue Prince couldn’t do.