PLAYING FOR KEEPS

CHARLIE The bass pounded through my chest as I pushed through the club entrance, my borrowed red dress clinging uncomfortably. I hated clubs. Hated the noise, the desperation that hung in the air like cheap perfume. But I hated sleeping on the street more. "Charlie!" I shouted, scanning the crowd for Melissa's blonde hair. My so-called best friend. The only person who might help me. My phone buzzed. A text from my landlord: *Your stuff is outside. Locks changed.* Three months behind on rent. Two jobs, full course load, and it still wasn't enough. I spotted Melissa near the VIP section, laughing with girls who looked like they'd never worried about money. Designer dresses, perfect hair, casual confidence. "Mel!" I called out. She turned, something flickering across her face. Annoyance? "Charlie! What are you doing here?" "I need to talk to you. Alone?" "We're kind of busy." She gestured to the VIP area. "Julian Valentino is here tonight. Do you know who that is?" I didn't. Didn't care. "Mel, please. I got evicted. I just need somewhere to crash for a few days." Her eyes widened. Not with sympathy. With calculation. "Oh, Charlie. That's awful. But my roommate is really strict about guests." Lie. I'd been to her place. "Just a few nights. I'll sleep on the couch." "I really can't. But maybe this is an opportunity? Meet people. Network." "Network? Mel, I'm homeless." "Don't be dramatic. There are lots of rich guys here. You're pretty when you make an effort. Maybe someone will help you out." The words hit like a slap. Her attention shifted past me. "Oh my god, he's looking over here." I turned. And saw him. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair messy like he'd run his hands through it. But it was his eyes that caught me. Even from across the room, I felt the weight of his stare. Intense. Focused. He was looking at me. "That's Julian Valentino," Melissa breathed. "Basketball star, heir to the Valentino fortune." I looked away. I didn't need complications. "Mel, please." But she wasn't listening. She wanted him to look at her, not me. "You should talk to him. A guy like that could change your life." "I'm not prostituting myself for a roof." "Don't be judgmental. I can't help you, Charlie. But maybe he can." She turned back to her friends, dismissing me. I stood there, anger and desperation warring in my chest. I pushed toward the exit, but the crowd trapped me. "Leaving already, Red?" The voice came from behind me, low and smooth. Julian Valentino stood close enough that I could smell his cologne. Expensive. Everything about him screamed money. "I don't know you," I said. "Not yet. But you're wearing red, so Red it is." "My name is Charlie." "I like Red better." "I don't care what you like." Something flickered in his eyes. Surprise? "Most girls do." "I'm not most girls." I tried to move past him, but he shifted, blocking my path. "I noticed. You don't belong here." "Wow. Thanks." "I mean you don't want to be here. You're scared." My heart kicked. "I'm not scared of you." "No. But you're scared of something." He leaned in slightly. "I could hear your conversation with your friend. I'm sorry she's not helping you." Humiliation burned through me. "I'm fine," I bit out. "You're homeless." "I said I'm fine." "Liar." He said it gently, which made it worse. "What do you want?" "Have dinner with me." I laughed. "You're joking." "I never joke about dinner." He pulled out his phone, typed something. "Or have a drink with me. Right now." "Why?" "Because I want to know why a girl who looks like you is wearing shoes that are giving her blisters." I glanced down automatically. The shoes were Melissa's, too small. "Listen, Julian—" "You know my name. We're making progress." "Everyone here knows your name." "And you don't care." "Not even a little." "God, you're perfect." He said it like he meant it. "Come on. One drink." "I need to go." "Where?" The question hung between us. Where was I going? Back to the street? To nowhere? He saw the answer on my face. "I have a spare room in my apartment. You can stay there. No strings." "I don't even know you." "So get to know me." He held out his hand. "Start with that drink." Every instinct screamed at me to walk away. Rich boys didn't help girls like me out of kindness. But I had nowhere else to go. "One drink," I heard myself say. "Fair enough, Red." His smile returned as I took his hand. His palm was warm, calloused. He led me through the crowd to a private booth where two other guys sat. "Brothers," Julian said shortly. "Ignore them." The younger one grinned. "So this is why you ditched us." The older one said nothing, but his eyes lingered on me. Julian's hand tightened on mine. "Touch her, look at her too long, and I'll break your face." "Possessive already?" the younger one laughed. I pulled my hand free. "I can handle myself." "I know you can," Julian said. "But humor me." A server appeared with drinks I didn't order. Expensive drinks. "So, Charlie," he said. "Tell me something true." "Like what?" "Anything. Something no one else here knows." I took a sip, stalling. "Why?" "Because I want to know you." I studied him. Rich, entitled, probably used to getting whatever he wanted. "My mother died saving someone else's life," I said finally. "Donated her kidney. She died from complications. I was fifteen." Julian's expression shifted. "I'm sorry." "Don't be. The woman she saved is Melissa's mother. That's why we're friends. Were friends." "She's an i***t for not helping you." "She's protecting herself." "You deserve better." Julian leaned forward. "Let me give you better." The air between us shifted, charged. His knee brushed mine under the table. This was stupid. Reckless. But God, I was tired of being careful. "One night," I said. "I'll stay one night. Then I figure something else out." "One night," he agreed. But his smile suggested he was already planning on changing my mind. My phone buzzed. Another text from my landlord, threatening to dump my stuff. Julian noticed. "What's wrong?" "My things. They're on the street." "Where?" I told him the address. He texted someone. "Done. Someone will collect everything and bring it to my place." "I can't afford—" "You're not paying. Consider it part of the free room rental." "I don't accept charity." "It's not charity. It's me being selfish. I want you comfortable. I want you safe." His hand found mine again. "I want you to stay." His thumb traced circles on my palm, and heat pooled low in my stomach. "Okay," I whispered. His eyes flared. "Yeah?" "Yeah." Julian stood, pulling me up with him. "We're leaving." As we headed for the exit, I saw Melissa watching us, her face twisted with jealousy. Outside, a car waited. Black, sleek, expensive. Julian opened the door, and I slid inside. He followed, close enough that his thigh pressed against mine. "Charlie," he said as the car pulled away. "I don't do this. Bring girls home, any of it. I don't know what this is. But I know I'm not letting you go." "You don't own me." "No." His hand found my knee. "But I'm going to try to earn you anyway." The tension became suffocating. "Julian," I whispered. "Yeah, Red?" "This is a bad idea." "Probably the worst." His lips curved. "You going to stop me?" I should. Absolutely should. But when he leaned in, his breath warm against my neck, I tilted my head. "That's what I thought," he murmured, and pressed his lips just below my ear. I shivered. The car stopped. "We're here," the driver announced. Julian pulled back, his eyes dark. "Ready?" "Yes," I lied. We stepped into his building, into the elevator. His apartment was on the top floor. As we rose, he stepped closer, backing me against the wall. "Charlie," he said softly. "Tell me to stop." I couldn't. Instead, I grabbed his shirt and pulled him down. Our lips met, and the world caught fire. The elevator dinged. We broke apart, breathing hard. "Your room is down the hall," he said roughly. "Show me yours instead," I whispered. His smile was pure sin. "Yes, ma'am." He led me inside, past marble and luxury, straight to a bedroom with floor-to-ceiling windows. "Last chance," he said. "I can still take you to the spare room." I reached for my zipper. The dress fell. Julian's breath caught. "You're going to destroy me." "Good," I said. I pulled him down to me again, and this time, neither of us pulled away. Outside in the hallway, Daniel Valentino stood staring at the closed door, his phone in his hand. He'd followed them. The girl in red with sad eyes had walked into Julian's life, and Daniel had felt something shift. Recognition. Want. Things he had no right to feel. Julian had claimed her first. Daniel turned to leave but looked back once, memorizing the apartment number. She was going to be a problem. And in another part of the city, Melissa's phone rang. "It's Victoria. We need to talk about your little friend and Julian." Melissa's grip tightened on her phone. "What do you want me to do?" "Whatever it takes to get rid of her."