VIP (Rock & Release, Act I) by Riley Edgewood Read Free Book Online Page A

says anything to him, sighs. "I'm an idiot sometimes. You know I don't mean it." The last part's directed to Vera, whose expression softens slightly.
    Acknowledging that you act like a misogynistic ass (or, as Jared calls himself, an idiot) doesn't count if you don't do anything to stop it. But I bite the retort on my tongue, and instead say, "If anyone should go, it should be me. I need to get home."  
    I stand and take my dish to the sink, holding my breath to keep from thinking about what it means to go home.  
    "I'll take you," Gage says, following with his own plate.  
    "You don't have to do that."
    "I want to."
    "Maybe I live an hour away." I don't actually think I do.
    "Maybe that gives me more time to hang with you."  
    Excuse me while I melt into a puddle here on Vera's kitchen floor.
    "This," Vera says, reaching across the table and shoving her finger into Jared's shoulder. "This is the kind of teasing that's okay."
    "Where's your car?" I ask.
    "Here. My roommate dropped it off last night—I texted him before we left. He met us here with it and took our cab back."
    "I have zero recollection of that." I try to laugh it off, but I can't believe I let myself go so far.  
    "That's because the only thing you were looking at last night was Gage." Jared smiles a sleazy little smile.  
    "That reminds me—you dropped your keys on the floor last night. I put them on the entryway table," Vera says.
    "Thanks." Gage leans in close, whispering, "You were the only thing I saw, too. I only remembered about my car because he texted this morning that I owe him forty bucks for the cab ride."
    Warmth winds its way up my neck. "Sounds like you have a thoughtful roommate."
    "When he's around," Gage says. "Which is pretty much never."
    "Have you seen my phone, or, even better, my purse?" I ask Vera. "They weren't in your room."  
    "They're on the couch." Jared points to the sleek plum-colored couch in the living room, across from the striped armchair. "Your phone was going off like crazy last night."
    "Sorry if it bothered you. It was probably Teagan."
    "Yeah, it was." He shrugs when I ask how he knows. "I was trying to silence it—and then I just went ahead and put my number in there for you."
    "Why?" Disdain fills my voice a little stronger than I mean for it to.  
    "So you can tell me whether or not you want the job."
    "Huh?"  
    He laughs. "You don't remember?"
    I jog my memory, coming up with nothing. "Remember what?"  
    "Last night. You won Zach over with all that Franklin Charles talk. You won me over with it first—but you probably remember that part. I offered you a job."
    "Doing what?"  
    Zach… I remember Jared mentioning him—but I actually met him? I dig through the hazy waters of my memory and come up blank.  
    "Working with me," Vera says, "and Gage, too." She lifts an eyebrow. "Obviously, you should say yes."
    Gage stays silent, watching me with an expression I can't read.
    "I have zero recollection of that, either."
    "Well, you said you needed a few days to think about it."
    "I have an internship that starts in a week."
    "That's why you said you needed to think about it. You didn't…" Vera drifts off. "Sorry. None of my business."
    "I didn't what?"
    "You didn't seem like you wanted to do the internship."
    "It's an awesome internship." My response is knee-jerk and canned, though, and I know it. Guilt follows a second later. I was excited about this summer at first. A chance to put my education toward something in the real world. A chance to make my parents happy. A chance for us all to move forward from what happened six months ago.  
    I don't know what changed.  
    "That frown on your face makes it seem like you're really excited for it," Jared says.  
    "Just mentally cataloguing," I lie. "I have so much to do before next week."
    "I should get you home, then," Gage says.  
    I grab my purse and send another half-wave to Vera. "Thanks so much for letting me crash here. I had a lot of fun—or, I'm pretty