He calls me PG, short for Paisley Grove, and my heart pirouettes.
Nobody calls me that but Hercules Valentine, a man I’ve had a crush on since high school.
He and I could never even think about being together though. The Valentines are old money and my family, the Groves, is new money. And the Groves and the Valentines don’t mix. The hate between our families runs deep. Deep enough to create a line in the sand that neither of us ever dared to cross.
However, that’s never stopped Hercules or me from staring at each other from a distance. And we’ve always been cordial to each other. Then there was that night seven years ago. I bet Hercules doesn’t know he was my first.
Yet here we are again, gazing into each other’s eyes. Tonight feels different.