Infamous Park Avenue Prince (Park Avenue Princes Book 1)
Infamous Park Avenue Prince: Chapter 4

SHIFTING MY BACKPACK higher on my shoulder, I caught the door to my next class before it could slam shut, and stepped inside to find a seat. The lecture hall could easily fit a couple hundred people and was slowly filling to capacity. There was no way in hell I was sitting at the front of the tiered seating, but with the back rows already claimed, there weren’t many options left.

I moved into a row about halfway down, wondering, not for the first time, how it was that not one of my high school friends was attending Astor. They were spread out all over the country now, something that didn’t really hit me until this moment, walking into a crowded room alone. It would’ve been nice to shoot the shit with a friend on the first day at an intimidating school, where most of the students wore clothes that cost more than my parents’ place in Brooklyn.

I dropped into a chair and pulled out my laptop, set it on the desk in front of me, and opened it up to a blank page. I’d heard rumblings before from my mom’s conversations that this particular professor, Professor Kingston, was one of the more difficult instructors at Astor, merciless in both curriculum and personality, which had me glancing behind to see if a spot in the back rows had miraculously opened up.

“What are we looking at?” a male voice to my left asked, and I whipped back around, my eyes colliding with the guy who’d slid into the seat beside me.

Oh shit. I recognized him instantly as the tawny-haired guy from the quad that morning, part of the group my mom had warned me to stay away from. Up close he was even more enigmatic, his blue eyes flashing under the harsh fluorescents as he lounged back in his chair, one arm casually thrown over the back of it. Hell, he even smelled like money, the expensive cologne he wore filling my nostrils as he gave me a crooked grin.

“Uh…nothing.” A glance behind showed there were other empty seats in the row, so it was strange that he’d chosen the one right beside me.

“So, you new here?”

I turned back to face my new classmate and offered up a smile. Just because Mom had warned me off didn’t mean I should be rude, right?

“Yeah, uh, this is my first day.”

“I figured.” The guy winked at me. “You’ve got that deer-in-the headlights look.”

“Oh, yeah.” I chuckled. “I suppose I do. It’s just a lot, you know. Trying to find class, then getting here on time—”

“Especially for King’s class.”

“King?”

The guy gestured to the empty podium at the front of the room. “Professor King. That’s what we call him.”

That made sense, and so did the fact that the professor would be a hardass on time management. Thank God I got here early.

“I’m West, by the way.”

I looked at the hand he held out to me and decided there was no harm in making small talk with the guy. He was being nice, and was the first person who’d approached me all day. Everyone else had been giving me a wide berth, and I knew it had to do with my mom. So the fact he didn’t seem to care was a relief.

“JT.” I noticed several other students in the class looking our way—no doubt gawking at the dean’s son.

“Nice to meet you, JT. So, you excited to be starting at Astor? Or are you here under duress?”

The grin he flashed made it easy to relax in his company, despite the dire warning Mom had issued earlier this morning, and I found myself settling back in my seat.

“Not duress, no. I like school and I like learning new things—”

“Wait, wait, wait.” West sat up in his seat. “Did you just say you like school?”

I shrugged. “Guess it goes hand in hand with growing up with a dean for a mom and an archivist at the New York Public Library for a dad.”

“Are you shitting me right now?”

The look of pure horror that entered West’s eyes made me chuckle.

“Nope. You grow up around that kind of academia influence and you end up liking school.”

West slowly shook his head. “You poor, poor child.”

I grinned. “What about you? Are you here under duress?”

West relaxed into his seat and let out a breath. “Well, I’m definitely not here because I like school.”

I started to laugh. “No?”

“Fuck no. Parents wanted me to get an education, blah blah blah.”

“How horrible of them.”

West tossed me that crooked smile again. “I know, right? Assholes.”

As more and more students filed in, I noticed them talking amongst one another, some having already made friends and some who clearly knew each other before today. It didn’t escape my notice that they were leaving the chairs in front and on either side of me and West free. I’d been dead on in telling Mom I’d be looked at as a pariah. Oh well, at least West seemed willing to take a chance.

I glanced over at my new “friend” to see him pulling a packet of peanut M&M’s out of his bag. He opened them up and held it toward me. “You want one?”

“No.” I shook my head. “That’s okay.”

“Seriously?” West looked at the bag. “You don’t like peanut M&M’s.” He said it like it was a crime.

“No, that’s not it.” I actually loved peanut M&M’s. I just felt weird—yes, I’m going to say it—taking candy from a stranger.

“Come on, grab a handful.”

“Really, it’s okay.” Although the offer was tempting.

“What’s the problem?” Something twinkled in West’s eyes as he shook the bag again. “You allergic to nuts?”

Biting back a smile, I shook my head and held out my hand. “You know what? You talked me into it.”

As I popped one into my mouth, West’s lips twitched. “I can be very convincing.”

I didn’t doubt that for a minute. He seemed like the kind of guy who could get whatever he wanted. Friendly, rich. It was a killer combination.

“JT, huh,” West mused, drumming his fingers along the desk. “Is that short for something?”

“John Thomas.”

“What, you didn’t wanna go by little Johnny?”

I groaned. “You’re not far off. This one kid spent the entire summer calling me Johnny Tommy, and I knew my parents hadn’t thought the name thing through.”

“I’d laugh, but I think it’s a parent’s job to give their kids pretentious names.” He pointed at himself. “Case in point, Weston.”

“Oh, you’re right. That’s totally pretentious.”

“Wanna hear something worse? My best friend’s name is James Easton, but everyone calls him East.”

It took me a second, and then I burst out laughing. “East and West?”

“Yup.”

“Okay, that’s terrible.”

“Hey now, Johnny,” West said, feigning offense.

“Is there a North and South to round things out?”

“I was hoping you’d fill one of those holes, but no such luck.”

A snort escaped me. “Yeah, that’s too bad. Maybe someone in this room can complete the compass for you.”

“Nah, my direction’s just fine.” He poured a few more M&M’s into my hand. “So you staying on campus, or are your parents keeping you under lock and key?”

“Jesus, that was a fight,” I admitted. “Yeah, I’m in the dorms.”

“Oh yeah? Which one?”

“Uh…” I didn’t exactly want to share that I had my own large, private space in the best dorm, but he didn’t have to know that part. “Baker Hall. You?”

“Me? In a dorm? God, no.” He ran a hand through his hair, mussing up the waves. “I have a place at the Towers.”

“The Towers? What’s that?”

“At the Waldorf Astoria.”

My eyes practically bugged out of my head. “You’re kidding. You…live there?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. You should stop by sometime.”

This was a joke, right? No one actually lived at one of the most famous luxury hotels in the city. Here I was, not wanting to make a big deal out of living alone in a dorm, and West was living on Park Avenue.

The people here were on an entirely different level.

And “stop by sometime”? I didn’t even own clothes that would get me past the front door.

“Yeah. Maybe,” I said just to appease him.

“That doesn’t sound like you mean it.”

Hah, busted. “Well, it’s not really my scene.”

“The Waldorf isn’t your scene? Have you ever been inside?”

“Sure, all the time. Just a typical Monday night eating three-hundred-dollar ounces of caviar.”

“That’s your problem right there. Thursdays are the best night for that.” West’s grin was infectious, and I found myself matching it.

“Guess you’ve convinced me again.”

“See, what’d I tell you? Very convincing.”

I couldn’t help but shake my head, thinking of my mom’s words. Maybe she was right. West and his friends probably were trouble. His easygoing personality could win anyone over.

“Weston LaRue.”

A harsh voice from the front of the room cut the chatter instantly, and I snapped my attention to the man narrowing his eyes in my direction.

Or, should I say, West’s.

No doubt that terrifying man had to be Professor Kingston, but if West was bothered by his tone, he didn’t show it.

Instead he gave the professor a lazy grin and said, “Yes, sir?”

“Care to explain why you’re sitting in my class when I passed you years ago?”

“I just missed you so much.”

Professor Kingston pointed at the door. “Get. Out.”

Oh shit. I hadn’t even questioned why West was sitting beside me, but he was obviously an upperclassman and didn’t belong here. So why—

“Guess that’s my cue,” West said, scooting his chair back and handing me the packet of M&M’s.

“I don’t—” I started, but West shot me a wink.

“Keep it. See you around, JT.”

West gave a salute to Professor Kingston before making his way up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Okay, strike that. Maybe there were two people immune to West’s charms: my mom and the man they called King.

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