“You have the house, the cars, the family, and a future that promises it won’t disappear. And yet, your past will always keep you on the outside.”
“Yes.” The reply spilled from my lips unbidden. “I know that feeling.”
“They say the world is a different place outside of college. I say college is the audition and life is the show. We’re nervous, panicked, and holding on to a thread of hope that we’ll be good enough to make it. Then we’re thrown onstage to have every move, line, and action scripted for us. We’ve spent all this time preparing to be the lead character in someone else’s story. Never truly free.”
“It can feel like that sometimes, but that stage doesn’t have to be our reality.”
“Why?”
“Because even the most faithful actor knows when to improvise.”
He chuckled. “You may be right.”
We fell into a silence that was, dare I say it, companionable.
“I want to see that book, Aiden.”
Obviously, I ruined it.
“I assumed so.” Aiden reached into his pocket and held something up between us. A small, black book clutched between two fingers.
“You carry it around with you?”
“I knew you’d ask to see it when Teagan told me you talked.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about it yourself? The book? The club? Why, Aiden?”
He shrugged. “You didn’t ask.”
“I didn’t ask? Are you serious? You know every well that I didn’t know to ask. You— You’re a sun-baked asshole!”
Okay. Sofia might have a point about me being filter-less.
He burst out laughing. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You know what it means.” I snatched the book from his hand. “But I take it back anyway. You’re actually a spit-roasted asshole with douchebag on top and a side of arrogant fucker.”
“All right, all right.” I thought he might tip off the balcony guffawing. “I should have told you. I admit. I’m going to really blow your mind and say... I’m sorry.” Aiden stuck out his hand. “Truce?”
I eyed the appendage. “Depends. Are you or this book going to explain why you had Sawyer taken away?”
“I didn’t.”
“Then you can put that back where it was.”
Aiden let out a breath like I was the most irritating person on this balcony. “Just read it. Then you’ll understand.”
“What will I understand, Aiden? What’s in this book that you can’t tell me yourself? Like you should have done a year ago.”
He swept out his hand. “You want to know what the club’s about? It’s simple. We stretch ourselves to the limit. No holding back or hesitation. The Sams and Sallys acquire the best Somerset has to offer and the club finds out how far they’ll go.”
“And you do that by losing money, tossing questions at each other, and having sex in a basement?”
“We do that by shedding all constraints. When is the last time you had a deep, intellectual conversation with someone you weren’t dating? Years? Never?”
“I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Of course.” A fervency laced his tone. “Because it’s not in our script. We’re supposed to make polite, meaningless small talk with everyone we meet and never say anything real. What we do is strip away the bullshit and take what we want.”
“So... it’s a club for hedonists?”
“No, Valentina. It’s so much more.”
I glanced back at the room full of people. “What do you all get from this? The thrill of secrecy? Money? A boys and girls club that you can seek favors from for the rest of your life?”
“None of the above. What we want is improvisation.”
I nodded slowly, tracing the design etched in the book’s leather. “Why did you choose Maverick?”
“It was getting tricky with an even number. Too many ties. I wanted a guy that wouldn’t piss himself being in a room with Winston and the rest of them. Plus, Sawyer could vouch for him. He’s smart. Doesn’t take any shit. And any twenty-one-year-old guy already tied down with a kid, pets, mortgage, and pseudo-wife would be looking to blow off some steam.”
“Fuck you.” I meant that with every fiber of my soul. “Maverick doesn’t feel tied down.”
“He wouldn’t tell you if he did.”
I erased the distance between us, getting in his face. “That’s cute. You hang out with him a handful of times and convinced yourself you know him better than I do. Maverick loves his life. He has friends that support him. A son that looks up to him. His dream job on the other end of graduation. And a pseudo-wife that gives one hell of a blow job.” I smiled sweetly. “He’s not looking for cheap