My parents were upset with the lack of respect I
’
d displayed for my computer. They got it repaired quickly, but made me do odd jobs for them and for my aunts and uncles to pay for part of the repair. I didn
’
t argue. I knew I
’
d be spending a lot of time with them, and I didn
’
t want to spend those six weeks in misery, so I made the best of the situation.
Jon and I were allowed to talk on the phone for a
“
non-excessive
”
amount of time, as instructed by my father. Neither of my parents actually monitored that, though, but I didn
’
t take advantage of it, either. I just buckled down, studied, did my homework, painted–a lot–and looked forward to the day I
’
d get to spend with Jon in mid-February.
I still did get to see him once a week, for twenty minutes on Thursdays when he
’
d walk me home. Granna had been told not to allow us any additional time together after class, and Dad was always waiting out front. I don
’
t know why my parents continued to let me see him after my Art Room classes. I realized my Dad could just as easily come to the studio and walk me home. In the end, I
knew
that they really were starting to trust him. The five minutes of stolen, sweet kisses on the metal stairs on the side of the building were the highlight of my week each week.
When we reached my house, he
’
d give me another brief kiss in front of my father. Dad didn
’
t seem bothered by this at all, and would engage Jon in conversation about school before he
’
d catch the bus back home. My grounding included a no driving rule, too.
“
Have we heard from any colleges yet?
”
my dad asks the final week of my punishment.
“
Yes, sir, I was accepted into NYU,
”
Jon says, still forgetful of my dad
’
s general dislike of the formal address. My dad smiles, looking relieved.
“
But I
’
ve heard nothing from Columbia. They tell me I should know sometime in March.
”
“
NYU
’
s a great school,
”
Dad says.
“
It
’
s not my first choice,
”
Jon returns, his voice clearly disappointed.
“
Columbia
’
s the goal.
”
“
I can
’
t imagine why they wouldn
’
t want you.
”
I can tell my dad is being sincere.
“
Thank you,
”
Jon says, squeezing my hand. Jon knows he has made significant progress with my parents, and I
know he is
pleased with himself.
“
Well, Olivia, I guess tutoring resumes on Tuesday?
”
he asks.
“
I
’
m officially ungrounded on Sunday, right Dad?
”
“
That
’
s correct. Although your grades have been fine without tutoring.
”
“
He helps me a little on the phone at night, Dad,
”
I tell him. It
’
s not really true, but it
’
s just a little white lie. I knew Dad would let our Tuesday study dates continue. I had obeyed every condition of my punishment.
“
Well, thank you,
”
Dad says to him.
“
I
’
ll pick you up then, right?
”
I confirm our plans. Jon
is
only momentarily caught
off guard, but quickly recovers
.
“
Right, yeah. After scho
ol, I
’
ll be waiting.
”
He turns to me and winks, then whispers
in my ear.
“
Eight in the morning?
”
“
Right,
”
I say softly back to him.
“
That
’
s Valentine
’
s Day, too,
”
my Dad comments.
“
Were you going to go to dinner somewhere? You
’
d need reservations.
”
“
Wow, we haven
’
t even thought about that. I don
’
t know, Olivia,
”
he says, feigning disappointment.
“
I didn
’
t make any reservations.
”
“
It
’
s okay. Maybe we can celebrate next weekend.
”
“
Yeah, that
’
s a better idea. I
’
ll plan something.
”
His smile is mischievous as he leans in to kiss me.
“
I can
’
t wait for Tuesday,
”
he says.
“
Me neither.
”
CHAPTER 1
4
“
So what in the world are we doing today?
”
Jon buckles his seatbelt and settles his messenger bag on the floorboard, arranging his feet around it.
“
I thought we
’
d just hang out today. Maybe play a little house.
”
“
House?
”
He doesn
’
t sound sure about my plans at all. I hadn
’
t given him a clue about what I wanted to do with our stolen day.
“
Yeah.
”
“
Whose house?
”
“
A special house. You
’
ll see.
”
I drive down the island, taking my time as I skim the perimeter of Central Park. I pull up to the apartments at 78th Street and park next to the curb. A valet comes to the car to take my keys.
“
Miss Holland,
”
he says with a nod.
“
Do you have any more bags to bring up?
”
“
Nope, we
’
ve got it.
”
“
Sir,
”
the valet finally addresses Jon, who waves politely as he gets out of the car. I go around to his side and take his hand in mine.
“
Come on.
”
“
Where are we?
”
he asks. He looks completely unsure of the situation.
“
Patience–
”
“
Olivia, this man knows who you are. We
’
re dead if we get caught.
”
“
We
’
re not going to get caught. I
’
m allowed to be here, and they know to treat my family with discretion. They
’
re not going to say anything.
”
I say hello to Francisco, retrieving the key from him. We go into the elevator and I hit the button to the penthouse.
“
Yes, but you
’
re skipping school. I have a bad feeling about this,
”
Jon says.
“
It
’
s fine. I promise. We don
’
t have to encounter anyone else all day if we don
’
t want to. And those two guys aren
’
t going to say a word.
”
I
know
this because I had given them both money that I
’
d been setting aside over the weeks of my grounding. The lift doors open to the top floor.
“
This is us.
”
I guide him to the door on the left, unlocking it and holding it open for him.
“
Wow,
”
Jon says, stunned by the apartment.
“
Whose place is this?
”
“
It
’
s Granna
’
s,
”
I explain.
“
It used to be Nate
’
s, and then my mother
’
s. Granna recently bought it back from the people Mom sold it to. Isn
’
t it amazing?
”
He wanders around, gazing at the simple decor and drifting toward the windows that overlook the park.
“
Incredible,
”
he says, turning around to look at me. I smile proudly, taking off my leather coat to reveal the pink and red cashmere sweater, my personal homage to the holiday.
“
And you look like a little piece of candy,
”
he notes with a sly grin.
“
Good enough to eat.
”
“
Thank you,
”
I nod, walking toward him. I slip his coat off of his shoulders and toss it onto the bed. He
’
s wearing a short-sleeved black polo with a long-sleeved red t-shirt underneath. He pulls me into a hug, finally tucking his fingers into the back pockets of my new black designer jeans.
“
So we
’
re spending all day here?
”
he asks, nudging a strand of hair out of my face with his nose. He kisses my cheek.
“
We can, if you
’
d like.
”
“
I
’
d like.
”
His voice is sexy, and I
’
m suddenly very nervous.
“
Jon, I don
’
t want you to have the wrong impression,
”
I tell him.
“
I really want to hang out with you today–catch up on things, talk to you about life–but I
’
m still nowhere near ready to... you know.
”
I look up at him through my lashes.
“
Oh,
”
he says simply, biting his lip. I still see a hint of a smile in his eyes.
“
Okay.
”
“
Is it?
”
“
Of course,
”
he answers quickly.
“
And I
’
m glad you told me now, but I came prepared.
”
It takes a split second for me to realize what he means.
“
Oh.
”
“
It
’
s probably not a bad habit to get into,
”
he states.
“
But it
’
s okay.
”
His voice is reassuring. He removes his hands from my pockets and puts them on either side of my face.
“
I love you, Olivia. Happy Valentine
’
s Day.
”
He kisses me slowly, then lets go and returns to look out the window.
“
You can still kiss me like that and stuff, you know?
”
“
Okay,
”
He laughs, glancing only briefly over his shoulder.
“
So what else
can
I do today, Liv?
”
“
No, I don
’
t mean to make rules or anything,
”
I try to explain.
“
I was just saying that I wouldn
’
t mind you kissing me, if you felt moved to do so.
”
“
I
’
m sure I
’
ll want to do more of that. What else is there to do here?
”