The next morningI cut school and headed for Spring Street. I left the house at seven—because that’s when I always left the house. I didn’t want my parents to know where I was going. Spring St. wasn’t too far from our home in Soho, so I walked. I figured I’d get a cup of coffee and some breakfast, waste time, but on the way there I noticed a strangely large police presence. Four patrol cars all within a block or two of the subway entrance. Part of me felt like an idiot, like a character in a spy movie totally blowing shit out of proportion, but deep in my fucking gut I knew, Ava was getting set up.
So I took the train to Bleeker, the stop before Spring St., and I paced the fucking platform, scanning every passing car for her face. My clothes felt heavy and hot. I was sure I was going to miss her, that there was nothing I could do to stop the inevitable, but then there she was, all pretty, with shiny pink lips and long flowing hair. I jumped into the train car, and then as the train moved, I made my way through the morning crowd until I was standing just an arm’s length behind her. When the doors opened and the crowd started to shift, I grabbed her backpack off her shoulder. Shocked but quick, she turned aggressively in my direction, ready to fight or chase me to regain possession of her bag, but rather than run, I slipped in next to her, wrapping my fingers around her upper arm while I shifted her bag to my opposite shoulder. It occurred to me that I’d never touched her before and I was unprepared for the softness of her skin. The smoothness of her stunned me, leaving me breathless for a moment.
Ava was under no such spell. She tugged at her arm, trying to pull away as she spat, “What the fuck, Bruno?”
Under my breath, I said, “I think it’s a trap.”
Ava’s brows drew together, and she swallowed before playing dumb. “What? What is a trap?”
“Meeting Geo,” I whispered.
She blanched as we stepped out of the train and started to move down the platform. Then, her voice shaking, she asked, “Why do you know about this?”
I almost laughed. Ava didn’t like being in the dark, so in this moment when my sneaking and spying clearly wasn’t of the utmost importance, it was still where her mind fixated.
With a smile, I sassed back, “Doesn’t really matter right now, does it?”
With no response, she bit her lip nervously.
I paused our movement briefly, my mind racing. Ava couldn’t get caught with whatever was in her backpack. She was a nobody. Worse, she was nobody who worked for a somebody. She’d be a splashy news story. A warning to the world that giving someone smart and poor a lift into the land of the rich and famous was a terrible idea. They’d throw the book at her. She’d wind up in juvie for sure. She’d lose everything. On the other hand, I was a prince. Most likely, I’d come out the other side smelling like fucking roses. So I asked, “What’s in the bag besides the package?”
Ava shook her head. “Nothing.”
“It can’t be tied to you?”
Her fear dropping away for an instant, she rolled her eyes at me. “I’m not an idiot.” There was a beat before she added, “But I have to give it to Geo. I’ll be dead if I throw it away or something.”
The stairs were just feet in front of us. We could not walk up them together. I stopped, turned to her, and asked, “What does Geo look like?”
She shook her head. “No, Bruno.”
“Dark hair? Light hair? Tall? Short?”
She shook her head again. “Uh-uh.”
She was fucking gorgeous, all fat lips, smooth tan skin, and velvety black eyes. I reached out and tilted her chin up so she was forced to look at my face. She didn’t have to answer the question. I could just call out the man’s name once I was standing on the corner. I was going to do this. I was going to take the fall for Ava Childs. But first, I was going to fucking kiss her.
The swarm of people had started to part around us like a rock in a stream. I took a tiny step closer to her and she swallowed nervously, but nothing about her body language said no. In fact, she seemed to move closer to me. Heat flooded the space beneath my sternum as I lifted my hands to cup her jaw and pull her mouth to mine. Her lips were soft and pliable; there was no question she welcomed my touch. She pushed up on her tiptoes, pressing tighter against me. And then, before I lost my nerve, I broke free and backed away toward the steps that led to the street.
Staring at my face, somewhat dazed, her hand fluttered up to touch where my mouth had met hers and she smiled. I smiled back. It was good kiss. I was going to kiss her again. I took another step back and another. It occurred to me that kissing Ava Childs was a thing worth dreaming about—and the promise of more than kissing would definitely keep me awake nights. As I bumped into the stairs just behind me, Ava suddenly realized what was happening. Stepping forward, she shook her head manically, but with one last glance, I turned and ran.