The Bad Boy's Princess

Ch. 6 - Deja Vu

"Well, well look what the cat dragged in." Ali laughed as soon as I entered the private area where IRIS has clearly rented out. "I would never expect to see Ms. Lodge showing up here without having a knife at her throat."

"Oh, trust me that has not changed." I laughed and hugged her. Ali was working for IRIS now too, as the head of the marketing team. She loved her job and went straight into it right after she graduated from NYU.

"Seriously reconsider my application to be your roommate. Your apartment is to die for." She pouted. Ali wanted to live together since my apartment was a lot closer to downtown and all the mishaps Ali adored. But knowing her personality, her parents made sure her apartment was far away from everything, for good reasons I might add.

"I quite enjoy being able to walk around naked in my apartment, thank you very much."

"Oh shut up, you would never. Even so, who said I would ever have a problem with that." She smirked and handed me a shot. "You have to catch up."

As I took the shot, Ali's phone went off and she annoyingly placed it to her ear as she downed a shot. "What, brother of mine?"

That could mean it was either Ryder calling about another one of his troubles, most likely another rebellious attempt to piss off his parents, or it was the other and more likely caller, her older brother who was always checking up on her whenever she went out.

"No, I haven't seen it and you could've texted me." She rolled her eyes. "Good night, sir."

"When will he ever stop calling me whenever he can't find his shit? The world may never know." She sighed. "Anyways. How have you been?!"

"Ali, it hasn't even been a month since we last saw each other. What could possibly have happened in that time period?" I laughed.

"Ugh, you need to work less and go out more." She groaned. "It is my mission to have your next few months in LA be nothing but fun and exciting, before you have to go back to New York again where I can't pester you and force you to actually have a life."

"I definitely have a life, thank you for that." Now it was my turn to roll my eyes at her. "I've just been awfully busy since I'm graduating soon."

"You said that a degree ago and you also said that last year and the year before that. There's always something." She stuck her tongue out at me. "So, for the love of god, please down these shots."

And that was where everything went downhill as I started getting more and more drunk from being alcohol hazed by the heathen who went by the name of Amelia Vanderbilt. Ali turning 21 has resulted in me and the guys having serious liver damage and getting a few years taken off our life honestly.

The amount of times she has successfully guilt tripped us into participating in her mishaps was astronomical. This one time, Cameron and Charles actually had to crawl home from the pub during one of our trips to London. Ali was an adventure that was nearly impossible to put back into the bottle once released.

"Alex, please do us a kind favor and go for another round of shots." That and the faded visions of Ali ordering a round of tequila for everyone and their mothers at Trevor's that night were the last things I remembered.

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"Amelia Vanderbilt, you've got to be fucking kidding me. Are you seriously out of your mind?" A male's voice deafened me and sent a hammer on my head as I sleepily opened my eyes and instantly regretted it when I was blinded by the sunlight.

"Oh grow up and get over it." That was definitely Ali.

Where the hell was this?

I was too hungover to care and felt a sense of relief rushed in when I remembered that it was Saturday. I was probably at Ali's apartment after our disastrous night out last night. But when was that ever news... 99.9% of our outings with Ali always turned into a shit show the morning after.

"I'm going to murder you and bring you back to life just to murder you again." The male was whispering this time but it was still loud enough to be audible from where I was, which happened to be tucked comfortably in a massive soft cloud of black bedding.

Ali changed her guest bedroom again, I supposed.

After that, all I heard was inaudible mumbles and groans from a possibly hungover Ali before the male voice was about to say something but stopped himself.

When my body finally recovered enough for me to fully wake up and take in my surrounding, I wished I would've stayed asleep. This was definitely not Ali's guest bedroom as the room was humongous with a breathtaking view of Los Angeles from above. Everything in the room was masculine with a modern touch of coziness.

And when I saw the paintings on the wall, I wanted to run and escape or dig a hole and bury myself. I wasn't sure which was a better option at this point.

I recognized those paintings because they were his favorites, from his favorite artist. At least some things haven't changed.

But when my panic mode subdued and I got the chance to really take in where the hell I was, I decided that the latter option of digging a hole and burying myself in it was definitely the better choice.

Jace Vanderbilt.

In all his glory.

And his signature look, topless. With a towel wrapped around his bottom half and his hair soaking wet, with strands hanging above his eyes which were lazily staring straight at me.

Heavens please have mercy on me.