Page 20 of Forbidden Bond

“You always have one defense or the other for him, don’t you? He’s the one who left you alone that night, isn’t he?”

Jameson doesn’t even seem mildly offended by that. “You guys talked about me? That’s cool.”

He reminds me of a golden retriever. I don’t think the guy ever lets anything get to him. Actually, he kind of reminds me a little bit of myself. The old me.

“Shut up, Jamie. I’m leaving,” Katherine announces. “I was hoping to have one night to myself. But of course, you had to ruin that.”

The look in her eyes is one of mild annoyance, coupled with irritation and distrust. She doesn’t like me, that much is obvious. And to think all she had to do was find out my last name.

“You’re not leaving, Katie,” Jameson states. “We’re celebrating our graduation. You promised me tonight.”

“Promises can be broken,” she tells him. “Plus, I danced. I had one drink and now I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He looks ready to argue but seems to change his mind. Instead, he shifts forward and places a kiss on her forehead. Then he’s melting into the crowd, leaving. I turn to Katherine.

“I would say it’s nice to see you, but it’s not. You look well. Still partying with reckless abandon?” I can hear the judgment in her voice plain as day.

Resentment builds up inside of me. “Well, congrats on your graduation princess. But it’s my birthday so I think I can celebrate also. I have a right to party on my birthday, don’t I? Or do D’Angelos not have that right? You going to report me to your dad? Have him throw me in jail?”

Something softens in her eyes. “I didn’t know it was your birthday.”

“Whatever. You were leaving. So go.”

Her eyes flash with hurt. She turns around, walking away. And because I’m a sucker for punishment—or because, for some reason, a part of me is constantly being drawn to her—I follow her out of the club.

CHAPTER 7

Katie

The cold air hits me like a blast as I step outside, but my body heats when I realize there’s someone behind me. Of course, he followed me out of the club. I whirl around to face him.

“What do you want?”

He looks great. Two months and he’s still just as handsome as I remember. His dark hair is shorter, but other than that, he looks the same. Except he seems sadder. Gone are the easy smiles and I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude I remember. But I could be imagining it.

“You hate me because of my last name,” he says, and the words are cold, callous.

“I don’t hate you, Topher. I don’t know you.”

We keep tossing those words back and forth, both of us trying so hard to pretend like we don’t know the other when the truth is, he’s probably the first person to really see me in a long time.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “you don’t know me. And yet you don’t like me.”

I sigh. He’s not going to let this go unless I offer an explanation.

“A few years ago, we got a call at home. I was eighteen and the call was from my dad’s co-worker. He got shot in the arm during a field operation. A gang war, and he got caught in the middle. Do you want to know who started the gang war?”

Topher smiles without teeth, his eyes dull and shuttered. “My dad always did like exerting dominance over everyone and everything around him.”

“Exactly. Your father! Your family’s the reason my dad almost died. We could have lost him. I know you weren’t there and you probably had nothing to do with it, but I need you to understand that I have no interest in dealing with a guy in the mafia.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. “I’m not in the mafia.”

“So you say.”

Topher advances toward me, his steps steady. “I’m going to repeat those words slowly so you understand them, princess. I’m not a member of the mafia. My father was and my brothers are, but I am not a part of it.”

“What am I supposed to say, congratulations?”

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