The Aristocrat Read online

  “I don’t have a problem talking about it,” I insisted.

  Leo nodded.

  I braced myself to explain. “My mother died of a drug overdose when I was seven. She’d been estranged from her family long before I was born. When you’re left without a parent at that age, you don’t have people eager to adopt you. People prefer newborns, not scrawny seven-year-olds who don’t talk much. So, I was placed in various homes, but for one reason or another, no one was ever able to adopt me. I got very lucky—made it through the system without being physically or emotionally harmed. That’s not the case for many kids. So, bottom line, someday I’d like to be able to help those who are less fortunate than I was.”

  Sig nodded. “That’s commendable.”

  “Is that a compliment from your snarky ass?” I asked.

  Leo snorted.

  I shifted my focus to him. “What is it that you do, Sigmund?”

  “Besides lurk in the shadows of my much better-looking and successful cousin, you mean?” He stood suddenly. “It seems I might have matched with a gorgeous Persian girl who’s approximately two miles away. I need to get ready.” He lifted his teacup toward me. “Nice chatting with you, Freckles. I mean, Felicity.” He winked.

  “Good riddance,” Leo muttered when he’d gone.

  “That was kind of a random way to depart.”

  “That’s typical Sigmund behavior. He’s at a crossroads right now, unsure what he wants to do with his life. I think your question scared him off. Not to mention, this is the longest I’ve seen him sit in one spot since we got here. He’s always had ants in his pants. He’s never satisfied just being alone, or relaxing and enjoying life. He’s always going in search of the next big thing, the next woman, the next adventure.”

  “Makes sense why he wasn’t the one who wanted to come to Narragansett, then.”

  “The deal was, if we spent the first half of our trip in metropolitan cities, he had to go wherever I chose for the last half. And so far? This was just what the doctor ordered.”

  “Yet even here, he’s still finding ways to get ass.”

  “Precisely.” Leo bent his head back in laughter. “And I love that you don’t mince words.”

  “I am a bit of a straight shooter once I get comfortable around someone. Life’s too short not to be.”

  “I can’t tell you what a breath of fresh air it is to talk to someone who isn’t trying to be someone they’re not. I envy you in many ways.”

  “Envy? How so?”

  “Back home—the life I was born into—you’re expected to act a certain way, conduct yourself in a way that’s very mechanical, for lack of a better word. I never feel like it’s okay to be my authentic self, not only because I’m constantly being watched and judged, but because no one will accept me unless I fit their expectations. As difficult as I know your upbringing was, clearly it allowed you to grow into yourself, a strong woman who says what she wants, who makes her own choices. A family who nurtures you can be a wonderful thing. But family can also be a burden…stifling.”

  I arched a brow. “You don’t expect me to feel sorry for you…”

  He shook his head. “God, no. I’m sorry if I came across that way—”

  “No worries. I’m just teasing. I can’t begin to understand your struggles, just as you wouldn’t understand mine. Clearly we come from two different worlds.”

  Leo continued to stare through me as my heart raced. I looked away.

  Then I looked down at my watch. “Well, it’s actually later than I thought. I’d better get back.” I got up from my chair. “Thank you so much for the tea, and the tea-quila.”

  Leo stood, his chair skidding against the ground. “You sure you have to leave?”

  “Yeah, I’d really better.”

  He blinked, seeming taken aback. I couldn’t say I fully understood this myself.

  “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “Thanks.”

  My shoes clicked against the marble floor of the foyer as Leo led the way back to the front of the house.

  We stood face to face as a light breeze blew my long, thick red hair around. It was neither straight nor curly in its natural state, just a fluffy mane of waves. A strand flew into my mouth, and I blew some air out to get it off my face.

  I was just about to say goodbye when Leo surprised me with a question.

  “Why do you not like your freckles?” His eyes fell to my cheeks.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. When I was younger, people teased me about them, and I guess that made me hate them.”

  Leo glanced down at my neck. “I love them, especially how they continue down your neck. They give you character.”

  “A few give you character.” I looked at my feet. “I’m covered in them.”

  “Yes, I know. It’s beautiful.” He paused. “You’re beautiful.”

  I looked up and met his eyes.

  While I hadn’t felt beautiful coming here in my Mary Poppins outfit, the man in front of me, the way he looked at me, did make me feel beautiful, for some reason. And that made me feel…like fleeing.

  I lifted my hand. “Well, I’ll see you around town, I guess.”

  As I began to walk toward my car, Leo called after me. “Felicity, wait.”

  I turned around. “Yeah?”

  He slipped his hands into his pockets. “Will you let me take you out sometime?”

  My mouth opened, but all I could think to say was, “On a date?”

  “Of course.” He laughed. “What else?”

  He looked so handsome as he stood waiting for my answer, the sun reflecting in his blue eyes. A part of me wanted to say yes. But I knew getting closer to this guy would be a bad idea.

  So I forced the words out. “Thank you so much for the offer, but I don’t think so.”

  He frowned. “Can I ask why?”

  Despite my openness about certain things today, I didn’t want to admit the reason I’d declined: he scared me. For some reason, I knew saying yes would lead to inevitable heartbreak by summer’s end. I needed to protect myself.

  “I’m just...not interested,” I finally said. Damn, was that ever a lie.

  He nodded slowly. “Okay. Fair enough.”

  “Thank you again so much for tea,” I said before escaping to my car so I didn’t have to experience the lingering tension. Except in my haste, I accidentally put the car in reverse. Stepping on the brakes fast, I waved awkwardly and laughed. When Leo’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, it kind of tore through my heart.

  I pulled out of the driveway and made my way down the road. Not even a minute into my ride, I was second-guessing having rejected his offer to take me out. We obviously came from two different worlds, and dating him would be futile since he was leaving, but I was deeply attracted to him—not only his looks, but his down-to-earth personality.

  Without realizing it, I had long passed the street that led to my house when I finally looked around. I found myself driving over a bridge, unsure where I was headed anymore. Sort of the story of my life.

  * * *

  Leo

  Track 3: “Hot Hot Hot” by Buster Poindexter

  Sigmund emerged from the shower wearing only a towel.

  He looked around. “Where’s the redhead?”

  “She left,” I muttered.

  “Is that why you have such a long face?”

  “You’ll be happy to know I finally know how you feel.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I got rejected.”

  His eyes widened. “What?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s literally the first time in your life a woman has turned you down, isn’t it?” He patted me hard on the shoulder, enjoying this a bit too much. “Well, welcome to the club, mate. We serve blue balls and stale beer in our neck of the woods.”

  “Brilliant.”

  Though I was doing my best to take it in stride, Felicity turning me down did hurt a bit. And it wasn’t about being rejected. I was
genuinely disappointed to not spend more time with her. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d yearned to know more about a girl, yearned to count every fucking freckle on her body.

  Sigmund shook me out of my thoughts. “I had a feeling that for some bizarre reason you fancied her and might go in for the kill, but I never imagined she’d turn you down.”

  “Well, maybe that was a smart decision on her part.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” he said. “What’s the point of messing around with someone like that?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped. “Someone like that?”

  “Well, you know after speaking to her that she’s not the type who’s only interested in shagging. She’s too serious for that. So what’s the point of getting to know her, or taking her out? It can never go anywhere.”

  “You can’t exactly choose who you fancy, Sigmund, even if that person doesn’t fit perfectly into the stifling box that is my life.”

  “She’s the opposite of anything that fits, actually.”

  “That’s precisely why I like her.”

  “And your dick is probably even harder for her now that she’s turned you down.”

  I couldn’t deny that her rejection made me want her more. A chase was always arousing. Yet Felicity Dunleavy didn’t care to be chased by me. Rather than making up an excuse, she’d very directly told me she wasn’t interested.

  “Anyway…” He laughed. “Now your children won’t end up looking like they belong to Ed Sheeran.” He chuckled. “We can find you a replacement for her tonight, if you want to come out with me.”

  Frustrated, I ran my hand through my hair. “Not interested in that right now.”

  “Mate, she’s not even a ten. What are you worried about?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “She’s plain. Okay, well, she’s fit in her own way, I suppose.”

  “She’s naturally beautiful. Not like the made-up women back home.”

  “I’ll be more than happy to take some of those girls off your hands when we get back, since you don’t seem to appreciate them.” He sighed. “Seriously, cousin, I think you should forget about the F-word and come out with me and Shiva tonight.”

  “Shiva?”

  “The Persian girl I met on the app.”

  “Oh…yeah.”

  “Maybe she has a friend.”

  No way was I in the mood for that. “I’m feeling kind of knackered. I think I’ll stay in.”

  “Probably better for me anyway,” he said. “No chance of you stealing my thunder.”

  After Sigmund took the car to drive to Providence, I decided to pay my mum a long-overdue phone call. I’d been avoiding her because she kept insisting on an exact date for my return. We had yet to buy our tickets home.

  After three rings, my mother answered. “Well, hello, love. I thought I might never hear from you again. It’s late here. Is everything okay?”

  I lay back on the couch. “Everything is fine, Mother. Sorry, I forgot the time. Things have been a little hectic.”

  “Too much lying around on the beach wasting precious time away?”

  “This is far from a waste. My mind is ten times clearer than when I left.”

  “Well, your father is certainly more supportive of this whole thing than I am. I’m just happy it’s halfway over with, and that come September I’ll be getting my son back.”

  The thought of returning home made my stomach a bit sick. “How’s Dad feeling?”

  My father had been battling cancer for several years. He was always certain that one of these days he’d succumb to it. Prior to my trip, he’d made me promise I would carry on our family name. Since I was his only child, if I were not to marry and procreate, the Covington name would end with me. He’d always indicated he wished to see me married with a child before he died. No pressure or anything.

  “Dad’s been pretty good lately,” my mother reported.

  “I’m happy to hear that.”

  “Do you want to talk to him?”

  “Not if he’s resting. Just tell him I love him.”

  “He’s eager to have you back as well. I think not having this time to train you on the ins and outs of the business is stressful for him.”

  “That’s not what he expressed to me the last time we spoke. I think it’s stressful for you.”

  “Well, I have a number of prospects I’ve been keeping my eye on, and I certainly can’t guarantee they’ll be able to wait around forever.”

  Prospects. My mother’s term for women qualified to marry me based on their prestigious backgrounds.

  There were two requirements of a member of the privileged upper class: Don’t do anything to shame your family, and marry within your pedigree. While I’d never agreed to anything formally, deep down, I knew if I didn’t marry someone my parents approved of, they’d make that person’s life a living nightmare. And I didn’t want that for anyone. So, I’d always hoped I’d miraculously fall in love with someone who happened to be acceptable in their eyes. It was hard enough connecting with someone, but to have the playing field whittled down to a mere handful of people deemed suitable made it nearly impossible to find true chemistry.

  “Well, Mother, I’m not returning any earlier than summer’s end, so losing opportunities with the boring women you’ve selected for me is a risk I’ll have to take.”

  “Boring? Hardly.”

  “Has it ever worked out when you’ve chosen someone for me before?”

  She paused. “I’m trying to help.”

  “Exactly. Look…I appreciate your efforts, but—”

  “Whatever you do, make sure the shenanigans you’re up to out there don’t land you in irreversible trouble. Don’t dip your pen in the wrong ink, if you know what I’m saying.”

  “I haven’t dipped my pen in a while, so no worries, and when I do, I’m careful.”

  “You’d better be,” she warned.

  Unlike my cousin, I’d only slept with one woman on this trip. She was someone I’d met in a bar when we were in L.A., and while there was physical attraction, there was nothing special about it. When I was younger, I’d been perfectly fine with meaningless encounters. But at twenty-eight, I found myself needing to be intellectually stimulated, as well as sexually aroused. That combination was hard to come by.

  “I’ll let you get going, Mum.”

  “Well, this was a quick conversation. But I suppose I should count myself lucky that you called in the first place.”

  “Give Dad a hug for me.”

  “Kiss that nephew of mine, too. What is Sigmund up to tonight?”

  “You probably don’t want to know.”

  “Likely not.”

  “Bye, Mother.”

  “Goodbye, my love.”

  As the evening wore on, I found myself unable to shake what had happened earlier. It was rare that someone captivated me the way Felicity had. And her rejection was a bit of a blow to my ego.

  I had the lights off in the living room as I sat on the couch and looked out toward the moon over the bay. I grabbed my laptop off the coffee table and typed:

  Felicity Dunleavy - Harvard

  A link to a video popped up as the first result of my search. It was titled Harvard Polar Plunge: Nutsack.

  Well, that certainly had my attention.

  It was some kind of event for charity where people took off their clothes in the middle of winter and jumped into freezing cold water.

  Curious as to why it had come up, I pressed play. Several men and women emerged from a choppy ocean. It only took a few seconds before I spotted her. Felicity wore a red, one-piece swimsuit, and rubbed her hands over her freckled arms as she shivered. Her long hair was wet and stuck to her body.

  A voice from behind a microphone asked, “How do you feel?”

  Felicity’s teeth chattered. “How do you think I feel? I’m freezing my nutsack off!” Then her eyes widened in a panic. “Wait, am I live on TV?”

  The camera im
mediately cut back to two television personalities at a news desk who were trying to compose themselves. One of them snorted before straightening her papers and thanking the reporter for the story.

  And then the video ended.

  I read the description under the title.

  Harvard student Felicity Dunleavy proclaiming, “I’m freezing my nutsack off” on a local Boston TV station after the college’s Polar Plunge charity event. The original video went viral with almost ten-million hits.

  This particular version of the clip had seventy-five thousand views.

  I spent the next several minutes re-watching it, and each time was funnier than the last. My favorite part was the shocked expression on her adorable face when she realized she’d just said nutsack on live television.

  It was too bad she wanted nothing to do with me, because this video made me want to hang out with her again. I shook my head, forcing myself to close the laptop. I eventually nodded off, counting freckles in my head instead of sheep.

  A week later, I’d somehow let my cousin convince me to go on a double date at a local bistro. No part of me wanted to go out with someone I’d never met before, but I had been a bit of a recluse since arriving in Narragansett and figured it would do me good to at least get out of the house.

  When we arrived at Jane’s by the Water, Sigmund’s raven-haired date, Shiva, and her blond friend, Melanie, were already waiting at a table in the corner. There was nothing wrong with the person who’d been assigned to me tonight, but she looked like any other girl. Nothing stood out, nothing made me not want to turn around and head right back home.

  “It’s so great to meet you, Leo.” Melanie smiled as she stood from her chair.

  “Likewise.” I took her hand and kissed her lightly on both cheeks before sitting down.

  “Sig’s told me so much about you,” Shiva said. “Glad we could finally get you to come out.”

  “I can only imagine what he’s said.”

  Sigmund patted my shoulder. “All good things, of course. And I agree, it’s nice of you to grace us with your presence. One can only hibernate for so long.”