A Hurt So Sweet Volume Two (Elite of Eden Falls Prep 2)

An older woman calls Easton over, and he winks at me before walking away. I make my way back to the bleachers, finding the guy who’s handling the bets today and handing over the money Easton gave me. An unfamiliar rush trickles down my spine, and it feels good. It’s a beautiful day, with no other Firstborns in sight. I’m determined to have fun today.

Once I’m back in the bleachers, the event begins. I briefly steal a glance at my sister, who’s giggling while some Secondborns from Prep surround her. She really does know how to wrap those boys around her fingers.

The event takes hours, and after the first one, I’m bored out of my mind. But luckily Easton’s only in the morning part of the event, and by the time noon rolls around, he’s the clear winner.

I accept my winnings – one thousand two hundred – from the bookie with a bright smile, and race to meet Easton after he’s done with his horse.

“You were amazing!” I tell him, genuinely impressed. “Brazen’s going to be pissed!”

“You seem oddly excited about that,” Easton grins, and I snicker.

“Let’s just say I’m not my brother’s biggest fan,” I mutter.

I still haven’t forgiven him for the prank he pulled on me.

“Hey, do you want to grab some lunch?” Easton asks. “You don’t have to head straight back home, do you?”

I shake my head. When I told my father about the event, he seemed to assume I’ll be going for the whole day, like Tatianna is. Which gives me at least another couple of hours.

“Great,” Easton smiles wide. “The country club’s serving lunch in about twenty. Meet me there after I get changed? Just tell them you’re with Master Brantley.”

“Master?” I repeat, raising my brows at him.

“They’re old fashioned here,” he shrugs, then a devious grin overtakes his face. “Though I can’t say I don’t love the idea of you calling me that.”

I wave him off and head for the country club. In the gorgeous bathroom, I quickly apply some powder to my face and add a spritz of the perfume I’ve got in my bag.

I lean against the pink marble sink with both hands, scrutinizing my reflection in the ornate mirror. Heaving a deep sigh, I wonder when Dexter’s going to come storming back into my life. It feels weird not wearing his ring anymore. It feels weirder to know he took my virginity and has since then dropped off the face of the planet.

But today isn’t about Dexter Booth at all – it’s about Easton.

I splash some water on my face and attempt to fix up my hair before leaving the powder room and heading into the dining area. Tables are being set up by uniform-clad waiters, and when I give the hostess Easton’s name, she nods instantly and walks me over to the table that’s the best seat in the house. There’s a gorgeous view of the horses running free behind the building, and you can see everyone in the restaurant from these seats, which are slightly raised, ensuring every guest will know you’re there.

I settle on my chair and wait patiently as the room begins filling up with men twice or three times my age. They shoot me curious glances, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat until my eyes finally land on Easton looking almost unbearably handsome in chinos and a dress shirt.

He grins at me, walking over confidently and greeting several people on his way. I’m impressed. Dexter may be more important in this town, but it seems as if Easton knows everyone here.

He slides into the seat opposite of me, holding up a finger when I’m about to speak and expertly ordering us drinks and food from our waiter, who nods with appreciation at the boy’s choice. Normally I wouldn’t be into the idea of choosing for me, but Easton leans across the table, smiling wide at me.

“I think you’ll enjoy what I picked for you,” he says, and I smile in return. “So. Did you collect your winnings?”

“I did.” I reach into my bag to pull out the money, but Easton stops me, laying a palm over my hand gently.

“You don’t have to,” he murmurs. “Keep it.”

“But it’s your money,” I argue. “At least let me give you the hundred bucks back.”

“Keep it,” he shrugs. “For the pleasure of your company today.”

“I’d like to think that’s worth a bit more,” I tease, and he laughs out loud, winking at me.

This isn’t bad at all. I’m kind of enjoying myself. As the waiter presents us with the country club’s famous homemade iced tea and our entrees, I dig in, having worked up an appetite from spending all morning long in the sun.

Easton chats to me easily, talking about his experience in Switzerland, while greeting more acquaintances who walk into the club as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. He’s kind, sweet and caring, and once the dishes arrive, I’m pleasantly surprised to realize I really do love his choices.

“These tortellini are amazing,” I mutter with my mouth full.

Easton seems amused by my lack of manners, even though I blush when I realize I must look a barbarian.