RECKLESS - Part 1

by Alice Ward

  I held onto the pillow for dear life, trying to hide from the light and the ice pick scraping at my brain… but only until the weight of her words sunk in. “Oh, shit!”

  “Yeah, oh shit. Get moving, chick.” Becca picked up a shirt from off the floor and tossed at my face before making her way toward the door.

  “You’re not waiting for me?”

  She pulled the door open and then turned back to look at me, shaking her head. “I need coffee. You kept me up half the night with your drunken snoring. Besides, I’m not sticking around for the train wreck.”

  “Train wreck?” I asked, pulling the shirt she’d tossed at me over my head.

  “You haven’t even tried moving yet, and that’s bound to be interesting,” she said with a smirk. “I’d feel sorry for you, but you were carried home by a god, so I don’t.”

  I threw my pillow at her as she ducked out the door but it hit the door instead and then fell to the ground with a thud.

  Oh, dear God, she was right. My head felt like it’d been pureed in a blender. And I was down to just fifteen minutes to get to class.

  I brushed my teeth, yanked my unbrushed hair into a messy bun at the top of my head and threw on a pair of yoga pants—probably not clean—and shoes. With six minutes left to spare, I snagged my books and my purse and then bolted out the door.

  The light outside was practically blinding, and an hour of listening to Professor Parker drone on was like listening to nails on a chalkboard, but I made it through without throwing up on anyone. Now all I had left to do was go home and sleep off the rest of my god-awful hangover.

  I was just passing the coffee shop when my phone rang. Dread thick in my veins, I completely ignored the ringing and continued making my way to the dorms. I was certain it would be Sean, and I wasn’t exactly up for talking to him just yet—not after the fantasy orgasm I’d had the night before. And that wasn’t to mention being carried home by the object of my fantasies just hours later. Or my drunken confession.

  But ignoring my phone was apparently futile because, just seconds after the ringing ceased, it started up again. I had to do something, say something—Sean knew my schedule just as well as I did and he knew I’d just finished psych class—so I fished my phone out of my purse.

  “Marcus,” I said out loud, sighing in relief when I caught sight of the name displayed on my caller ID. Unfortunately, the relief only lasted for about a fraction of a second.

  The column was due in the next day, and I hadn’t even touched it.

  I hesitated a few more moments, hoping maybe Marcus would give up if I failed to answer a second time. No such luck. My phone started ringing as soon as it clicked over to voice mail. I was going to have to answer… I could only hope he wasn’t asking for the feature early.

  “Hey, Marcus,” I said, hoping I sounded casual.

  “Jesus, Andrea,” he sighed into the phone. “Way to give your editor a heart attack.”

  “Sorry?”

  “I’ve been trying to reach you since last night.”

  That was news to me. “Oh, um—sorry,” I said. “I spent the night out with Becca. I must have missed your calls.”

  “Well, I need that feature on my desk tomorrow morning,” he said. “I know I usually let you bring your work in later in the day, but since this is your first entertainment piece, I wanted to go over it with you really quick.”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling a little numb. He was asking for it early.

  “That’s not a problem, is it?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned, and maybe even a little panicked.

  Of course, I had my own form of panic going on at the other end of the line. How the hell I was supposed to write the feature after everything that had happened over the past week? And in less than twenty-four hours?

  “Andrea?”

  “Oh—sorry. No, no. Not a problem at all,” I lied, my throat suddenly parched. “I’ll be there, first thing in the morning.”

  Marcus sighed in relief. “Wonderful,” he said. “I’ll see you then.”

  Seconds later, the line went dead in my ear.

  I was so screwed. So very, very screwed.

  But, I supposed things couldn’t get any worse, right?

  Boy, had I been wrong.

  ***

  Becca had been kind enough to give me space to nurse my hangover and write. Unfortunately, that also meant I’d been left alone with my wretched, treacherous thoughts. They taunted me as I went over our interviews, reminded me of how Jace had ripped out my soul the night of the concert, only to hand it back to me in little pieces. I tried to reassemble the stolen shards, but they’d been dirtied by his calloused fingers and they no longer fit in the same places as before.

  The worst part was… I actually liked them better that way.

  Those places where he’d etched his fingerprints felt more alive and whole than they had in their previously clean and unmarked state. This wasn’t just a crush. This wasn’t just a bad case of the groupie fever. I was starting to actually feel something for Jace Richardson.

  But how could you I love one man and want another?

  How could I, the girl who’d planned her life out since the day she was born, let something so catastrophic derail my course. More importantly, what in the hell was I going to do about it?

  I couldn’t just ignore him; not when he kept putting himself in my path. That much was obvious.

  I couldn’t quit school and go home, not after stomping and throwing a hissy-fit over Sean’s demands.

  And honestly, I didn’t want to leave. I’d worked too damn hard to have my entire career go down the drain—and for what? A lust-interest that would likely die down just days after graduation?

  No, I would stick this through. I would write this damn column and I would never speak of Jace Richardson again. I would move on with my life, and ten years down the road, he’d be nothing and no one to me, not even a memory I thought of in passing. I’d have my career, my husband, my white picket fence, and my two-point-five children.

  But first, I needed a cup of coffee.

  ***

  Rather than going to the coffee shop, I made my way to the cafeteria. While the free campus coffee was second-rate at best, and sludge at worst, it was better than chancing another run-in with Jace; after all, the coffee shop seemed to be the place where I bumped into him most often.

  I was just on my way back, sipping at the subpar liquid in my Styrofoam cup, reading over my notes so I could dig into the feature as soon as I got back to the dorms, when I bumped into something. Or more accurately, someone.

  My first reaction was to yell a string of obscenities; not only was my iPad soaked, the front of my body had just been covered in scorching liquid. But then I looked up.

  Oh shit.

  “J—J—Jace,” I stuttered. “I—I—I’m so—sorry.”

  When the hell had I become the girl that stuttered over her words? When had I become a mindless sheep? Why the hell was he staring at me like that?

  I shivered as his gaze ran over my entire body. And then I remembered just how God-awful I looked. Suddenly super-self-conscious, I started fiddling with my disheveled hair, trying to straighten it. Judging by the smirk growing on Jace’s lips, I was only making things worse.

  Oh, God. Kill me now.

  “Andrea,” he said, his voice husky and deep, laced with something I didn’t quite recognize.

  My entire body stiffened, standing at attention, suddenly on high-alert, as if his voice had demanded as such. I opened my mouth to speak, but all that came out was a short gasp.

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  I gulped against the desert in my throat. “Do with me?”

  “Yes,” he said, stepping so close to me, I was starting to feel dizzy from the heady mixture of metal, citrus, and mint. “I’ve tried to do the right thing. Tried to let you be. Tried to be the good guy. But seeing you… like this? In my shirt…“

  I looked down, suddenly mortifie
d. I hadn’t even realized it was his when I’d thrown it on earlier that morning. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry,” the words started flying from my mouth. “I’ve ruined it. I—I didn’t mean to. I’ll get you a new one…”

  His thumb covered my lips, stopping the mindless chatter. The rest of his hand cradled my cheek. I didn’t even have a chance to process what was happening before his mouth collided against mine.

  A loud smack filled my ears as the palm of my hand made contact with his cheek. My chest was heaving, but it wasn’t anger that had taken over my body. It was the way he was still looking at me, eyes full of hunger and need. And it was as if those eyes were somehow tethered to something deep inside of me, as if they were pulling and twisting at my insides, igniting a fire that burned hotter and hotter, until I feared it would consume me completely.

  Like a woman possessed, I gave into the flames. I let them lick at my soul as they guided me closer to him. Without thought or care for consequence, I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck, smashing my mouth against his. I was lost in a sea of flames as his soft but demanding lips welcomed mine, gently at first, but then with more force.

  His tongue brushed against the opening of my mouth, and I allowed him access. Our tongues danced to a forbidden tune, sliding and moving in perfect synchronization. My hands went to his chest, bunching his shirt into my fists as I melted into him.

  A breathless moan escaped my mouth as his arms encircled me. He tugged at the belt loop of my jeans, pulling me closer to him until my hips were flush with his. As my core gravitated toward his, I felt the hardness of his erection against my thigh… and that’s when it hit me.

  I flew back, damn near crashing against the brick wall of the cafeteria. The roughness of it grounded me, concreted me to the weight of my current situation. My fingers immediately went to my tender, swollen lips. How could I…?

  As I slid away from him, my back against the wall, Jace extended an arm in my direction. The heat in his gaze had given way to anguish and regret. “Andrea,” he said, stepping in my direction, his broken voice shattering my heart into a million little pieces.

  I couldn’t speak. I just held my arm out protectively, shaking my head as I fled the scene of the crime—my crime of infidelity.

  As I ran to my dorm, tears running down my face in hot, angry streams, a million questions swarmed my brain. What was I going to do? How would I ever begin to explain this to Sean? Would he ever forgive me? Had I ruined everything I’d worked so hard for?

  I didn’t have any answers, but I did know one thing… this man just set my soul on fire!

  End of Part 1

  To Be Continued in Part 2…

  PART 2 IS NOW AVAILABLE

  CLICK HERE to download RECKLESS – Part 2 today! The story continues…

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  Alice Ward

  THE RECKLESS SERIES – RELEASE SCHEDULE

  Part 1: October 10

  Part 2: October 24

  Part 3: November 7

  Part 4: November 21

  Part 5: December 5

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Alice Ward is the author of the New Adult series, RECKLESS.

  Reading and Writing romance is her passion and she writes with her true heart.

  Living in Miami, the beach is her favorite place to relax with her laptop and write her next spicy romance.

  However, when she is not reading or writing romance, she also enjoys being with her beautiful family.

  COPYRIGHT AND DISCLAIMER

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2014 Alice Ward

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.