Page 12 of Spin the Damn Bottle

She snorts. "Yeah, right. Five Fullers in the same house for two weeks? It's a miracle we all made it out alive. How 'bout you, you get along with your folks?"

I nod enthusiastically. "Dad's busy, but he's nice, you know. And he's basically is very hands-off, parenting wise. My mother was pretty strict when I was growing up, but she's been chill the last few years." Manuela Reyes was never overly controlling, but she had a thing about wanting to know where I was all the time. I'd go out with my friends after school to skate or get some ice cream, and she'd lose it if I arrived an hour late. I've never quite understood her fear, so I wasn't that great at texting her with updates.

That might be why Uncle Lucius decided to send me to boarding school, come to think of it. And it worked. My mother and I get along just fine now.

“No one really gives a shit about what I do, so long as I have okay grades and stay out of Page Six. That must be nice, to have a parent who cares."

I frown at Melina. "Yours don't?"

"My mom's always busy helping some charity and my dad works all the time. You know, the typical story." She shrugs. "I can't complain."

Cain walks in just as the last bell rings just as, grinning at me. "Damn, cupcake." He aims straight for me and sits at the desk right in front of me. "You look good enough to eat. ’Sup, Mel." He winks at her, charming as ever.

"You'd know if you answered your texts. I need you to get back to me about the plane. Are we traveling in yours this year?"

He frowns. "Why do we always take mine?"

"Because the parents travel in the Eatons', and my folks tell the staff not to serve us alcohol. Come on,please?"

For a hot second, I almost had the impression I was chatting with two normal kids. The whole private plane topic certainly put things in perspective.

"How about asking Jason for a change? Alden Corps' jet is lit."

"It's a company plane; Jason has to jump through hoops to use it. You know he won't bother." Melina makes good use of her sensual, pouty lips and bats her long lashes. "Please?"

Cain lets her win. "Fine. You owe me a blowjob."

Melina grins smugly, clearly happy with that compromise.

"Going somewhere nice?" I ask just to be polite, and because Mr. Green isn't here yet.

Nor is Jason. And I don't care. Hell, I don't even notice. And I certainly do not steal a glance at the door every now and then.

"London. The Heritage meets up every January to talk about our stats.”

“Stats?” I echo.

“How much we gave to charity, the number of aspiring members we’re vetoing, that kind of thing. It's just an excuse to get wasted and brag about stuff."

"Why London? I thought the Heritage was an American club."

Like the greater part of the population, I didn't know many details about the club, really, other than the fact that it's super-exclusive and secretive. They give millions to charity every year and throw socialite parties that never fail to bring paparazzi to their door, given the fact that half of their members are celebrities.

Thanks to Jason, I'm now also aware of the fact that most members are into deviant stuff. Swinging, kinky sex, I don't exactly know.

Watching. I think back to the Captain America lookalike jerking off as Jace finger- and tongue-fucked me, and I flush all over.

Definitely watching.

"Technically," Mel replies. "But the Heritage was built by members of a secret society in London, so the two clubs are sort of cousins.”

“More like rivals,” Cain snorts.

Mel nods in agreement. “One year, the annual review's in New York, the next, in London."

I shake my head. "Your life is out of a cheesy movie."

Mr. Green walks in, dragging a large TV on a wheeled shelf,just as the two legacies chuckle at my comment. "I apologize for the delay, but I have a surprise for you! I figured it'd be nice to ease back to work. Today's TV Day. If you wouldn't mind drawing the blinds…"