Vain (The Seven Deadly, #1)(2)

“He won’t know what hit him,” I told myself in the mirror. Sav mistook this for speaking to her and I rolled my eyes when she responded.

“You play a sick game, Sophie Price.”

“I know,” I admitted, turning her direction, a fiendish expression on my unblemished face.

I sauntered from the room. As I passed the throngs of people lined against the sides of the hall that lead from the foyer to the massive den, I received the customary catcalls and ignored them with all the flirtatious charm that was my forte. I was the queen of subtlety. I could play a boy like a concert violinist. I was a master of my craft.

“Can I get you boys anything?” I asked as I approached the elite group of hotties that included Ali’s Brent.

“I’m fine, baby,” Graham flirted, as if I’d ever give him the time of day.

“You look it,” I flirted back, just stifling the urge to roll my eyes.

“Since you’re offering so nicely, Soph,” Spencer said, “I believe we could all use a fresh round.”

“But of course,” I said, curtsying lightly and smiling seductively. I purposely turned to make my way toward the bar. I did this for two reasons. One, to make them all look at my ass. Two, to make them believe I’d only just thought of the next move on my playing board. I turned around quickly and caught them all staring, especially Brent. Bingo. “I’ll need some help carrying them all back,” I pouted.

“I’ll go!” They all shouted at once, clamoring in front of the other like cattle.

“How about I choose?” I said. I circled the herd, running my hand along their shoulders as I passed each one. Spencer visibly shivered. Point, Soph. “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe,” I said, stopping at Brent. I followed the line of his throat and caught a glimpse of him swallowing, hard. “Would you help me, Brent?” I asked nicely without any flirting.

“Uh, sure,” he said, setting down his own glass.

I linked my arm through his as we walked to the bar. “So how are you and Ali doing?” I asked him.

He gazed at me, not hearing a word I’d said. “What?” he asked.

Exactly.



Three hours later and Brent was mine. We’d ended up sprawled out on the ancient Turkish rug in Sav’s parents’ bedroom, our tongues in each other’s throats. He threw me underneath him and hungrily kissed my neck but stopped suddenly.

“Sophie,” he breathed sexily in my ear.

“Yes, Brent?” I asked, ecstatic I’d gotten what I wanted.

He sat up and gazed down on me like he’d never really seen me before. I smiled lasciviously in return, tonguing my left eyetooth. “Jesus,” he said, a trembling hand combed through his hair, “I am such a fool.”

“What?” I asked, sitting up, stunned.

“I’ve made a horrible mistake,” he told me, still wedged between my legs. No need to tell you how badly that stung. “I’ve had too much to drink,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Sophie. You being the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever met’s clouded my judgment, badly. I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

At that most fortunate of moments, we heard Ali calling out Brent’s name in the hall outside the door and he tensed, his eyes going wide. I could only inwardly smile at what was to come. Before he’d had a chance to react to her calling to him, she’d walked into the room.

“Brent?” she asked him. She saw our position and the recognition I’d seen in all the others before her was so obviously written all over Ali. She wasn’t going to fight it. “I’m sorry,” she said politely, like I wasn’t in a compromising position on the floor with her boyfriend. She’s so pathetic, I thought. She closed the door. We heard her pounding the floor to the stairs, running toward Sav no doubt. Sav would have to pretend she had no idea.

He threw himself to his feet, abandoning me haphazardly on the carpet and immediately began chasing her. Well, that’s a first, I thought to myself. Usually they went right back to business, but I suppose we hadn’t gotten far enough. Yeah, that’s why he left you lying here, half-undressed, chasing after his girlfriend, Soph.

I balked at my own idiocy and stood up.

I walked to Sav’s parents’ bathroom and leaned over her mother’s side of the double sinks. I fixed my bristled hair and ran my nail along the line of my bottom lip, fixing any gloss smudges. I tucked my formfitting black-and-white V-striped silk button-up back into my pencil skirt and stared at myself.

A single tear ran down my cheek and I grimaced. Not now, I thought. I was my own worst enemy. That was my secret weakness. Rejection. Rejection of any kind, in fact. I hated it more than anything.

“You’re too beautiful to be rejected,” I told the reflection in front of me, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

I ran the tap and splashed a little water on my face before removing the small bag of coke I’d hidden in my strapless. I fumbled with the little plastic envelope, spilling it onto the marble counter and cursed at the mess I’d made. I scrambled for something to line it with, finally stumbling upon her father’s medicine cabinet. I removed the blade from her father’s old-fashioned razor and made my lines. I remembered her mom kept small stacks of stationery paper in her desk in the bedroom and I went straight for that, rolling the paper into a small tube.