“You look pissed.”
I throw on the closest shirt I have and practically fall onto my bed, my face muffled by the pillow. “Bitches be mean,” I reply.
She doesn’t hear me, my face is buried in the pillow and all.
“What?”
I turn my head so it isn’t face planted, and watch her eyebrows scrunch together. Nash is now on her side, staring at me.
“I accidently bumped into a girl and her coffee covered us both, but she was a bitch about it.” Then I turn my face back into my pillow, wanting to scream for letting her get away with calling me a fricking name.
“Okay, well the girls and I are going to buy tonight’s alcohol. Then we’re going to leave from here, so we’ll be back later. Do you want to come?”
I look back at her and decide no. It kind of sounds like it’s a forced invitation anyway, and I sure don’t want to force anyone.
“No thanks, I might sleep. But thanks for the invite.”
She smiles, showcasing her perfectly white teeth then waves as she leaves the room. I turn over and press call, I need to call my mother—or father—I’m not sure who to call first.
“Pumpkin,” my mother gushes into my cell. “Stan… Skye’s on the phone,” she screams into my ear. I pull it away and wait for her to stop yelling out to my father.
“Mom, can you send me a new cell phone?”
She’s silent for a second. “Why Skye? You just got that one. It’s under a contract. Can you not wait?”
“It’s smashed up pretty bad ‘cause I dropped it. I can hardly see the screen.”
“Stan, your daughter wants a new cell. She’s smashed hers,” she yells out to my father.
I can hear his swift response, and I wonder why I didn’t just call him in the first place.
“Send it to her. You don’t want her to have a problem cell, Cassie.”
I don’t favor one parent over the other, they both have their strong suits, but I have a very special spot for my father.
“Okay hunni, I’ll organize it next week. Love you.”
I hang up after I’ve said my goodbyes, and close my eyes and go back to sleep, hoping when I wake, things will be better.
Chapter 2
Nash walks next to me and I’m thankful as I don’t want to feel like the outcast. The girls got what they wanted, then they proceeded to fill up bottles to carry to the party to drink, something about not trusting the frat boys. I nod my head and take a bottle, planning to not drink much. I don’t think my liver can handle another big bender. I watch as their high heels ascend the stairs in front of me. A man dressed in a toga welcomes us, and some girls giggled. Nash turns to me and rolls her eyes. Yes, he’s mighty fine, but he also has a massive ego.
We make our way out the back, the grass is a lush green under the lights. We move to the back of the yard, where people are talking in groups, some on chairs and some standing. The girls sit down, pulling out their bottles as they start talking. I sit there listening and nodding my head when appropriate.
A hand touches my shoulder, and I turn to see my ex-boyfriend—the one who owns the house where the party was held before I left home. He has sandy blond hair, the curls are dropping across his face, and he pushes them back when he smirks at me. I am in shock. I didn’t know Matthew was attending the same college as me. Actually, he was meant to go out of state. So the look of surprise on my face is more than valid.
“Skye,” he says. I can feel the eyes of the girls on us. They had asked me earlier if I knew anyone going here. I thought I didn’t know a soul as my friends all went to Ivy League colleges, and I chose to stay close to my parents—just not as close as they had hoped.
“Matthew,” I say standing. He broke up with me almost a year ago now. And as soon as he did, news spread that he was dating Chanel, the Head Cheerleader. So to say I haven’t spoken to him in a year, would be true. I didn’t even speak to him at his house party.
“You go here?” I ask confused.
He nods his head. My eyes lock with his blue eyes, those same eyes that shone whenever he told me he loved me. It was all a lie, he’s good at lies.
“I do. This is actually my frat house. Well, not mine, but you know what I mean.”
I nod my head even though I have no idea what he means. Someone calls his name, his head turns, and my eyes travel the length of him. He has the body of an athlete—fit, toned, and perfectly chiseled features.
“This is Nash,” I introduce as Nash stands next to me. I can see him eyeing her up and down. She’s very unique and I can’t blame him. Stunningly so. The guys start chanting his name, trying to gain his attention. The rest of the girls stand, and he looks over each of them, his eyes coming back to me, then switching to Nash.
“The guys are going to play a game of ping pong. You girls interested? Wanna come watch, or even join in?” His hand runs to the back of his head as he scratches it, looking to Nash and then me. I turn and watch all the girls nodding their heads. Nash links her arm through mine and we follow as Matthew starts walking away.
Nash leans over and whispers in my ear, “I thought you didn’t know anyone? He’s hot,” she says fanning her face in a melodramatic style.
“I didn’t know he was going to be here,” I reply honestly.
She smiles but doesn’t say another word. We walk inside. The room is full of men in toga outfits, girls wearing dresses so short, I’m afraid for them to bend. I look around and my eyes are glued to a man in a leather jacket and a white button-down shirt. I try not to look up at first as I instantly start to have flashbacks of those lips that are too sinful for this world.
Matt says something to me and leans in for a cuddle. My arm is still twisted with Nash’s, so my free hand comes around and gives him a tap on the back. He leans away and kisses my cheek. I can feel eyes on me and my cheeks instantly heat up. I know they aren’t Matt’s, he is in front of me.
“Don’t look now, but someone’s burning a hole into you,” Nash says.
I can’t not look. I’m guessing she’s wrong, because, well, they’re more than likely looking at her. When I turn, the leather jacket dude is looking directly at me. His stare isn’t intimidating, more curious than anything. I can’t make out his eye color—they just look intense. I scrunch my eyebrows and wonder what the hell he’s looking at.
I turn to Nash. “Is there something on my face? Or my glasses?” I ask her.
She shakes her head, and just as I look back up, leather jacket dude starts to walk my way. My eyes go wide. Nash squeezes my arm way too hard and I try to yank it away from her deadly grip, but she doesn’t let up. He stops in front of me. He’s tall, taller than me. He looks down, his eyes, so dark, are penetrating and dominating me.
“Hi,” I squeak. He doesn’t say anything, and my hands start to fidget. Nash stands still as a rock, and I swear the room falls silent. Then Matt walks to my side and he says something, but I don’t understand a word he’s uttering while my eyes are on this man. He looks away for a brief second, looking to Matt, then those deep eyes come back to me.
“No punching tonight?” he asks.
Holy Mother of God, I want to drop to my knees and beg him to speak dirty to me. Like legit, talk dirty, and never stop until my legs stop shaking and my knees can’t hold me up anymore. Then I click at what he’s said. He stands there and I swear everyone is waiting for me to reply. My hand flies free from Nash’s grip, then both of them come up fast and cover my face. After a second or two, I turn and run. I know who he is. Well, he knows who I am. And I’ve just remembered who he is.
He’s my lick, kiss, punch dare.
And he is at my college.
Holy fucking shit.
I don’t make it far before my name is being called, but I don’t stop nor answer. My mission is to get back to my safe zone, the zone where I’m not an idiot for hitting a random stranger, or possibly the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever laid eyes on. Plus, if you include that voice then I’m dead, so dead.
A car rolls up alongside me. I look to my side to see if there’s anywhere I can run, there isn’t. Then the window rolls down, and I see Matt. He yells for me to get in. I contemplate not to—I could walk the rest of the way, it wouldn’t kill me—then I think fuck it. I might as well get it over with. I pull open the door and climb in. Matt drives off, not speaking at first until we finally come to a stop, conveniently right in front of my dorm.
“I heard about it. I just didn’t think it was true.” His hand comes up and he scratches the fuzz on his jaw. He could never grow a beard, his hair stops growing once it reaches a certain point. “He’s our leader. Women love him. The guys want to be him, and there he is talking to you.” It’s like he’s trying to explain something, though he doesn’t know how to. “I heard some girl had enough balls to kiss him at a party… then punch him.” He laughs and shakes his head then looks at me. “I couldn’t believe it was you. I didn’t believe it, until just then.”
“Is he very popular?” Please say no. Please say no. I don’t want that again. When Matt and I broke up, I was the whispered about girl in the hallways. Rumors flew around school. Stuff like—I couldn’t please him in bed, I was a shit girlfriend, I was a slut. You name it, I heard it. I never let any of it bother me. But I also didn’t want enemies based on something I did when I was drunk.
“If the school has a king, it would be Taj.”
My head drops into my hands, even his name is sexy. I don’t want anything to do with him. Nothing at all.
“Thanks for the ride,” I say as I climb out.
I don’t wait for a reply, I don’t want one.
Chapter 3
Classes are about to start and my first class is Introduction to Molecular and Cellular Biology. I take an empty seat in the middle of the classroom. The room is equipped to house up to two hundred students, and I don’t know one of them. I tried to see if Nash has any of the same classes as me, but no luck.
For the entire class I sit there and listen while taking notes as the Professor talks. I’m almost asleep by the end, and I have a firm feeling this is not the class for me. When I stand up to walk out, I accidentally bump into the back of someone. I try to apologize, until a set of dark eyes train in on me. I recognize those eyes, except it’s not the same face. Yes, there’s many similarities, so I guess he’s the brother or a cousin to Taj. He isn’t quite as tall, but the resemblance is absolutely there.
“Woah! Hold up there, beautiful.” His voice is as strong as Taj’s, just not as sexy. He looks me up and down like I’m a meal, and I want to kick him between the legs for looking at me like that, while I’m obviously standing right in front of him.
“Hey, I know you…” his friend pipes up.
I look to him my eyebrows scrunching.
“Yeah, you’re the chick that ran last night!”
My eyes roll and I manage to push past them both. I want to eat, I need lunch and to get away from these stupid boys. I can hear their laughter behind me, so I pick up my pace. Stopping at the vending machine, I opt for that instead of going into the dining hall, and possibly running into them again. I make my way outside, open my notes and want to die. I don’t even understand what I’ve written down on my notepad. How can I even pass that stupid class?
“You plan to run if I sit?” a voice comes from behind me. I take my glasses off to rub my eyes, but I don’t need them to know who that voice belongs to. It’s my sex voice. I shake my head and place my glasses back on, in an attempt to not look at him even though that’s impossible. When I turn my head he’s right next to me, looking over my shoulder at what I’m reading. I jump back and fall again. Thankfully, there’s no cell to be broken this time. He chuckles and as I stand and I squish my legs together. “My brother said he saw you run out here,” he tells me. He doesn’t look at me this time as I take my seat back where I was originally sitting. I can smell him he’s so close, so I scoot away just a tad hoping he won’t notice. “Sorry about him,” he says looking my way.
“Why are you talking to me?” I cover my mouth quickly with my hand. I have a dreadful habit of blurting things out before thinking them through.
His head drops to the side. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay. You did run.”
“Why do you care?” Again, I suck my lips in, hoping it will shut me up.
He shakes his head and I can see the smile on his lips. “Look, I’m sure you are a nice girl…”
A girl? I look down.
“I have boobs, I’m not a girl!”
Fuck, the lip thing did not work.
His eyes go straight to my tits.
“Not for you!” I click my fingers a few times in front of his face.
He shakes his head and stands. “I wanted to warn you…” he starts then looks around so I do too. People who are walking past are watching him, then me. “I don’t advise telling people that I kissed you.”
I shake my head and squish my eyebrows.
Did he kiss me?
I thought I kissed him.
I remember his mouth, his tongue.
“Why would I want to tell anyone that?” My nose scrunches up in disgust, while he holds up his hands.
“Name’s Taj.” He holds out his hand, I look at it then back at him.
“Skye,” I say not bothering with his hand. No contact. I don’t want physical contact with him ever again. He drops his hand and starts to walk off, but then stops.
“If you come tonight, stay away from my brother.”
I don’t have any words, and no one’s more surprised at that than me. I keep my mouth shut so as to not blurt something stupid out. I only do that when I’m nervous, and Taj makes me more than nervous. So much so he makes my palms sweaty.
***
I try not to look around when I enter. I can’t help it though, for some reason my eyes search for him. Nash has convinced me to come tonight. I tried to get out of it, but she wouldn’t have it. She met some guy earlier today and is hoping to see him here. Her friends won’t come, so she bribed me with free food all week. I can’t resist food—it’s my weakness, my Kryptonite.
Thanks for that mom, I curse in my head.
I don’t dress very differently from the last time I was here. I’m wearing black jeans, whereas last night I had on blue. My top isn’t too tight, and I manage to get my hair up without it being in a messy bun for a change. Nash squeals in my ear when she finds who she’s looking for. She points and my eyes follow her finger.
It’s the brother. Great!
The one I’ve been warned to stay away from.
Could my luck get any better?
“Nash…” I drop my head. Nash starts pulling me in the direction of Taj’s brother, but I don’t want to go anywhere near him. I don’t even want to be here, stupid food addiction. I watch as he recognizes who I am, his lips twitch upward then his head turns to the left. I can’t help but follow his eyes, and there he is.
Taj is watching me.
And I’m now watching him.
The girl attached to his arm is also looking up at me. Then I recognize her as—yep, if my night could get a hell of a lot worse, it just did—the cranky bitch from the coffee shop. Her nails are currently digging into Taj’s arm. I snap my head back and look for an escape route.
“Turner,” Nash says, smiling brightly.
Ah, so that’s the name of his brother.
“This is Skye,” she states with a smile.
Turner cocks his eyebrow and looks back to his brother before looking back at me. He wants to laugh, I can tell.
“That’s the bitch,” I hear, and I know it’s the cranky chick who likes to wear a shirt that cost the same amount as my entire closet.
“We’ve met,” Turner replies.
Nash looks to me for answers and I don’t give her any because we haven’t met, he’s just intruded in on my space. Big difference as far as I’m concerned.
“Well, Skye here is my roommate,” Nash continues. I can tell she’s nervou
s. I don’t know why she should be. I wouldn’t be if I looked like her.
Matt moves up next to Turner, he leans in and slings his arm around me. His hug lasts longer than I’m comfortable with or like, and I pull away from him. He smiles and hands me a bottle of something, I take it but don’t drink it.
“Pool?” he asks.
I look back to Nash who’s now touching Turner, her hand sprawls out over his chest, and I know they’re seconds away from being lip-locked. I nod my head and Matt grabs my hand as he pulls me over to the pool table. Drinks are lined up on it, and he’s knocked some off while he positions the balls. I take the first shot and manage to pocket four balls. Matt whistles and then proceeds to take his shot, only getting one in. He shakes his head at me. I love this game, my father has a table at home, and he’s taught me well. I shoot again, and when I step back to watch the balls, I bump into something hard.
One day I won’t fall, hit, or bump into someone—you watch my day will come.
Even though this is not my fault, I apologize and move forward, not looking back. Matt positions himself to take his shot when I feel a hand on my arm. I turn, and Taj is standing right behind me.
“You play good,” he says nodding to the table.
I bob my head up and down then Matt calls my name. I try to strike my cue to another ball, I really do, but his eyes are on me now. I can feel them boring into me. I look up, and I’m right, he’s watching me intently. I don’t like it, which makes me miss my next shot in a disastrous fling of my cue. Matt shakes his head laughing. He has no idea what’s going on. Whenever Taj is near he doesn’t know that I become a mess of nerves.
“You need to leave,” I say standing up straight right next to him.
“No,” is all he replies.
I’m about to tell him how much he’s distracting me when the cranky bitch walks up and wraps her perfectly manicured hands around his arm. Tonight he has on a plain tee, nothing special, but on him, it looks to be worth millions.
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