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don't want it to feel as if it's been done before, do you?" "You really don't," Vienna put in with a shudder. "Like, really," London

added helpfully. I looked at Sabine, who suddenly seemed as uncertain as I felt. These people were, after all, the experts. And we still

had four more places to see. One of them had to be as good. Still, I hated kowtowing to Noelle. Especially with the sting of Dash's

name still searing my skin. But what else could I do?

"Fine," I said through my teeth. "Let's just go." As we said goodbye to an understandably confused Lucas (I think he'd noticed our

collective drool), I realized that even this far away from Easton, I wasn't completely free of my drama. Until Noelle had mentioned his

name, I had forgotten that Dash was supposed to be in the city this weekend. That he and Noelle were supposed to have dinner with

his parents. Would he pick her up at our room? Would tonight be the first night I laid eyes on Dash McCafferty since the Legacy--the

night he'd laid his eyes all over me? So much for my focus.

MAYBE PRINCE

Noelle couldn't stop checking out her own ass. As soon as we'd returned to the suite at the hotel, she'd taken a shower and then

come out wearing a black dress that looked staid and conservative from the front with its high neckline, but had such a low-cut back

that you could practically see the top of her butt crack. For the past fifteen minutes she'd been standing with her back to the mirror,

craning her neck so that she could study the effect. "Dash is a butt man," she explained. "You'd think he'd be a boob man, but he's to-

tally not." She finally turned around to smooth her hair. As I sat on the edge of my double bed, all I wanted to do was grab a chunk of

her brown locks and tear. She had been talking about nothing but Dash for the past hour. About how he had booked them a separate

room in the hotel so they could be alone later. About how it had been so long since they'd been together that he wasn't going to be able

to keep his hands off of her. It all made me so vilely ill I was growing belligerent. I wanted Josh, not Dash. I did. But I was so sick of

hearing about how much Dash wanted Noelle. So sick. "Why would you think he'd be a boob man?" London asked, clicking off her

cell phone. She looked down at her own mega-breasts, as if assessing whether they could ever grab Dash's attention. Vienna was in the

corner, trying to wheedle free champagne for the photo shoot out of some vendor who'd done her mother's third wedding.

"Look at his father," Noelle said. "He may act all proper and upright all the time, but he's had several mistresses over the years and

every one of them? Double-D's. At least." Now I had to glance down at my own flattish chest. The fact that Dash had been attracted to

me at all did kind of prove he was a butt guy. But of course, I couldn't weigh in. "So you think sexual preference runs in the family?"

Sabine asked, holding a dress up to herself as she looked in the smaller of our two mirrors. "Like it's genetic?" Noelle rolled her eyes.

"I wasn't trying to be scientific, Frenchie. I was just talking." Sabine blushed and went into the bathroom to change her clothes. Yet

another of Noelle's pointless jabs had hit home. What was her damage? "So, I really think we should go with Loft Blanc," Noelle said,

grabbing her lip gloss and leaning toward the mirror. "It's the hottest new venue in town. People will be beyond impressed if they see

it on the invite." Loft Blanc was this admittedly amazing space in the Meatpacking

District with high ceilings, huge windows overlooking the Hudson, and an incredible collection of modern art adorning its otherwise

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