Misha takes his order and hands me a cup marked for a salted-caramel mocha. I hit the button to brew some shots, pump chocolate and caramel syrup into the cup, and pour milk into the carafe for steaming. I dump the espresso and milk into the cup and give it a good stir to combine. Once I’m sure the lid is secure, I call out the customer’s name.
“Salted-caramel mocha for Lucas.”
Peyton’s fuckboy covers my hand with his own as I’m setting the cup on the pick-up bar. I focus on remaining calm, even though the hairs on the back of my neck are standing on end. This guy seriously gives me the creeps. Ever since Kingston humiliated Lucas by making him clean the dining hall floor in his underwear, Lucas never wastes an opportunity to undress me with his eyes, which I’d think he was doing to egg my boyfriend on, but strangely, he only does it when Kingston isn’t around to witness it.
“When did you start working here?”
Mindful that my manager is eyeing us curiously, I pull my shoulders back and infuse some cheer into my tone.
“Today’s my first day.”
“Interesting.” Lucas takes a sip of his coffee, licking foam off his lips. “Peyton didn’t tell me.”
“I doubt Peyton knows.” I shrug. “I don’t exactly talk to her much.”
He pulls out his wallet, deposits a hundred dollar bill in the tip jar, and holds his cup up. “Perfect latte, Jasmine. I’ll be back soon.”
After Windsor’s star QB leaves the store, Misha plucks the Benjamin out of the jar and stashes it under the register tray.
“You know that guy?”
“We go to school together. And he sorta dates my stepsister. Does he come in here a lot?”
Misha nods. “Every morning, sometimes twice on weekends. Is that going to be a problem? I was getting weird vibes off you two.”
I gulp. “Nope. Not at all.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Especially if he keeps tipping like that.” Misha inclines his head to the woman who just walked in. “You ready for your first mid-morning rush?”
I nod. “Absolutely.”
*
“You did great today, Jazz. Have a good night.”
“Thanks, Misha. I’ll see you on Monday after school.”
When I make it outside, Kingston is waiting right out front, idling in his Rover. I hear the doors unlock as I approach and climb in on the passenger side.
“Thanks for picking me up. You really didn’t have to, though. I told you Frank said he’s more than happy to take me.”
“And I told you, it’s no big deal.” His gold-flecked eyes dare me to argue. “How was your first day?”
“Really good. It’s pretty crazy during the rushes, but the job itself is easy enough, and my shift went by fast.”
“You smell like coffee.”
“I should hope so considering where I’ve been for the last six hours.” I sniff my hair. “What’s the matter? Do I repulse you?”
Kingston’s eyes leisurely travel the length of my body. “Jazz, you could roll around in a giant pile of dog shit, and you’d still get me hot.”
“Ewww.” I scrunch my nose. “You couldn’t have picked something else for me to hypothetically roll around in? Any thing else?”
He laughs. “Nope. I’m sticking with dog shit.”
“Such a romantic,” I quip.
“Baby, you couldn’t handle me if I pulled out the romance.” Kingston winks.
“Oh, God,” I groan. “So cheesy.”
“Speaking of cheesy... how do you feel about dropping in on a Windsor party tonight?”
“Seriously? I thought we agreed to pause on the parties for a while after what happened at the last two.”
“We did. But this one is at Lucas Gale’s house.”
I scoff. “All the more reason not to go. That guy gives me bad vibes. He came into the coffee shop today and was acting like a total creeper. Apparently, he’s a regular.”
Kingston frowns. “Well, that’s even more of a reason to go. If we show up on his turf, it sends a message to everyone, especially him and Peyton, that we’re in charge. And if I happen to have words with Lucas about finding a new place to get his caffeine fix while we’re there, so be it.”
“I don’t know, Kingston.”
He reaches over the console and grabs my hand. “It’ll be fine, Jazz. Trust me. I wouldn’t suggest it if I wasn’t sure.”
I groan. “Fine. But I need to shower and change first.”
“We have plenty of time.”
When we arrive at the Gale residence, the party is already in full-on rager mode. A group of guys are yelling at the TV while playing video games, red cups litter the floor, the music is loud, and scantily clad drunken girls dance on tables. I’d say it’s your typical rich kid party, but Lucas’ party has one noticeable difference: The gangbang they have going on right when you walk in the front door. There’s a line of ten girls, naked from the waist down, bending over, while a group of guys sticks their dicks into each one of them, pumping a few times before moving on to the next girl.
“Whoa.” Bentley whistles. “I’m all for playing some pussy roulette every once in a while, but this is crazy. Even I know to take that shit to a semi-private location.”
I throw my hand out toward them. “What’s the point of th—”
“And freeze!” The music cuts off abruptly right before the DJ yells his command.
“Damn it!” a guy with his dick hanging out yells.
The dude standing next to him pats him on the back. “Sorry, bro. Better go jerk it in the corner.”
“And go!” the DJ says right before the music starts up, and the thrusting begins again.
Ainsley’s jaw drops. “Oh my God, are they playing some sexed-up version of musical chairs?”
Bentley nods. “Looks like it.”
Just then, one of the girls currently getting pounded notices our group. “Bentley! You should join the next game.”
Bentley rubs the back of his neck, and if I’m not mistaken, he actually looks embarrassed. “Uh, no thanks. I’m good.” He starts making a beeline toward the bar. “I need a drink.”
The rest of us eagerly follow him, trying to put as much distance as possible between us and the orgy.
Reed turns his head to my boyfriend. “A hundred bucks says this shit’s uploaded to Pornhub within the hour.”
Kingston scoffs. “Why the fuck would I take a losing bet? I’d say no more than half an hour.”
“That’s seriously some of the stupidest shit I’ve ever witnessed,” I say. “None of those dudes are wearing condoms.”
“I’d imagine it’d get a little annoying switching them out every thirty seconds,” Bentley offers.
“Should we take bets on who gets which STD?” I ask.
“Or knocked up?” Ainsley adds.
“I think I just saw Gale heading out back. Let’s make sure he sees us.” Kingston jerks his head to the side.
The pool is closed up for the season, but there’s a firepit in the middle of a brick patio, which is where most people seem to be congregating. Sure enough, Lucas, Peyton, and their entire preppy posse are all sitting around the fire with Solo cups in their hands.
Lucas stands the moment he sees us, causing Peyton to land on her ass since she was sitting on his lap. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Why else would we be here?” Kingston replies smoothly. “We came to party.”
“Yeah?” Lucas questions. “Who invited you?”
“Kings have a standing invite to any Windsor party.” Bentley gives Lucas a cocky grin. “And since Davenport, Prescott, and I are the kings, we’re automatically welcome, along with anyone we choose to invite.”
“Well, it’s a stupid fucking rule.” Lucas’ statement was directed at Kingston, but he smiles when his eyes wander over to me. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite new barista?”
Kingston’s fingers flex around my hip. “Don’t talk to her.”
Lucas takes a sip from his cup. “It’s my house. I’ll talk to whoever I want. Your royal decree can’t prevent me from doing that, can it?”
Peyton brushes herself off and takes a seat in the chair Lucas vacated. “What are you talking about, baby?”
Lucas holds his arms out. “Oh, you didn’t hear? Sweet, sweet Jasmine here is now a working girl.”
“I’m pretty sure she was already was one of those,” Whitney Alcott, AKA Bentley’s bitter ex, mutters.
I flip her off in reply.