Kissing Princeton Charming (The Princeton Charming Series Book 1)

by Frankie Love

  He left the party with another woman after bringing me.

  People have reputations for reasons.

  I’m pulling on my mittens as I walk down the blustery sidewalk, wishing I had my bicycle to ride home when my attention is pulled to the bushes to my right.

  “Oh God, I’m going to die… I just. I need…” The moans get my attention, and they aren’t sexual in nature - they are painful. “Help,” the voice begs as the whimpering continues.

  “Hello?” I call out, crouching to the ground. “Can you hear me?” I crawl to a body sprawled out on the grass, faint lamplight revealing that it’s a woman.

  “I think… I can’t…” The woman closes her eyes as I reach her. She’s moaning, in absolute agony, and clearly in need of help.

  “I’m going to call an ambulance.”

  “No,” she whimpers. “I just need...Oh God...”

  As I reach for my phone, I realize it’s Spencer’s sister. The girl he was fighting with earlier.

  Blond ponytail and upturned nose, but her shirt is covered in vomit and she’s groaning as she curls up in a ball.

  Pulling out my phone, I dial 911, knowing there is no way in hell I’m leaving this poor girl alone out here. Not when most of the campus is out partying tonight. The operator keeps me on the line as an ambulance heads our way. I know campus security could have helped, but this girl isn’t simply passed out from drinking. She’s clutching her stomach and writhing in pain.

  When the ambulance arrives, I look around, wishing Spencer would magically appear. Wishing anyone would appear. But the student body is partying way too hard inside posh buildings to notice a girl being helped onto a stretcher.

  The medic tells me to get in with her, and I nod. “Her name is Ava,” I tell them, remembering Spencer’s words at the party. “Ava Beckett.”

  “She’s lucky you called,” the paramedic says as we pull away from the curb. “This girl needed a fairy godmother tonight.”

  I press my lips together, determined to remain calm, feeling like this night is about as far from a fairy tale as it could get.

  7

  Spencer

  After dropping Winslow off at her apartment, and practically prying the woman’s arms off me, I sit in my car and stare out the windshield at the orange and yellow leaves that litter the streets.

  Every part of me wants to go back to Tiger Inn and claim my girl. But after the stunt Winslow just pulled, I doubt Charlie will ever talk to me again. And I’m not sure why I even care. I barely even know the girl.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I groan when I see it’s Prescott. I ignore the call, turning on the ignition, but when it buzzes again, I answer it.

  “What?”

  “Where are you?” Prescott growls out on the other end.

  “Don’t even get me started—”

  “Are you with Ava?”

  That gets my attention. “I saw her at the Tiger Inn a couple of hours ago. Why?”

  There’s a short pause. “Look, don’t freak out, but—”

  “What the hell happened?”

  “I don’t know. I just got a text from Bloomberg saying he saw her get taken away in an ambulance.”

  That old fear, the one that sits close to the surface, ready to consume and destroy erupts in my chest, but I manage to keep my voice unnaturally calm. “You’re sure?”

  “Pettit was there too. He said it was her.”

  “Fuck.” I hang up and toss my phone on the seat beside me, then speed through the streets toward the hospital.

  Memories of the night I got the call about Ethan slam into my head.

  A car horn blares and wheels squeal as I go through a stop sign, but I don’t slow down, not until I pull up to the emergency department, parking my Mercedes in a no-park zone and racing through the sliding glass doors.

  “Ava Beckett,” I demand to the receptionist. “She was brought in by ambulance. Where is she?”

  “Sir, you’re going to have to—”

  “She’s my sister, and unless you want a lawsuit slapped on your—”

  “Spencer.” Charlie is walking toward me frowning, and it takes me a second to register that it’s her.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m the one who found Ava.” She motions me away from the receptionist who looks ready to call security on me. “I came in the ambulance with her.”

  “Where is she? Is she okay?” I can hear the panic in my voice.

  “A doctor is with her now. They hooked her up to an IV and are running some tests. But I think she’ll be fine. She was pretty drunk.”

  I lean against the cold wall and drag my hands over my face, realizing that a cold sweat has broken out over my forehead.

  “Are you all right?” She places a hand on my arm.

  “Yeah,” I lie, straightening, not wanting her to see the wreck I am right now. “Thanks for helping her.”

  She nods. “I was just going to get a coffee. Do you want one?”

  “You don’t have to stay.”

  “I know, I just...” She wraps her arms around herself. “I want to make sure she’s all right. I can go if you want—”

  “No.” I force a smile. “I’d appreciate a coffee.”

  She nods before disappearing down the hall toward the cafeteria.

  “Mr. Beckett?” the receptionist says a few minutes later, the scowl still on her face when she addresses me. “You can go back now.”

  I find my sister on a gurney, an IV in her arm, mascara staining her pale cheeks. She whimpers when she sees me and covers her face with her hands. “Who told you I was here?”

  “Prescott.” I sit on a plastic chair beside the bed.

  “He knows too?” she groans.

  “Pretty sure half the campus is aware of you leaving in an ambulance.” Which means our parents will know soon enough as well. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I was just having fun.”

  “And this...” I lift my hands and look around. “This is your idea of fun?”

  “Stop judging me. I’ve heard stories about you—”

  “That’s different.”

  “Why? Because you’re the great Princeton Charming? Give me a break, Spencer. You’re just as messed up as I am.”

  “Never said I wasn’t.” I take her hand and sigh.

  “God, we’re a pair aren’t we?” she says. “You screwing your way through half the campus, me trying to drink away the empty hole in my chest.”

  “I haven’t screwed half the campus,” I mutter. “And even if I had I really don’t need my little sister talking about it.”

  “Right, because Becketts don’t talk about anything real. No wonder Ethan drove his car off that cliff.”

  Her words hit me like a punch to the gut.

  “It was an accident,” I say, a little too forcefully, causing Ava’s brows to rise, but then she shakes her head and gives me a look filled with pity.

  “Believe whatever makes you sleep at night.”

  “You weren’t even there.”

  She sighs and looks away. “He called me that night. He sounded...”

  I pull my hand away. “He was fucked up on drugs. Ethan loved life. He wouldn’t...” But there’s that nagging voice in the back of my head that has always questioned if it really was an accident.

  Lies.

  Deceit.

  They follow my damn family around like a plague.

  Ava glances over my shoulder and I follow her gaze. Charlie stands there, chewing on her bottom lip, holding two coffee cups, and I wonder how much of our conversation she heard.

  “You’re still here?” Ava says giving Charlie a grateful smile. “Thank you again for helping me. Charlie, this is my brother—”

  “Yeah, we’ve met,” Charlie says, handing me a coffee.

  “Of course you have,” Ava mutters with a small eye roll. “It’s hard to make friends when my brother has screwed—”

  “Ava,” I warn.
/>
  She just shrugs, and I see Charlie frown.

  “So, um, I...” Charlie fidgets with her coffee cup.

  God, I want to pull the girl into my arms. Mine, that alpha part of my brain demands with a ferocity I’ve never felt before.

  I’m aware of the silence, but for all my usual charm, I’m not sure what to say.

  “I just...” Charlie continues, her gaze focused on Ava. “I wanted to make sure you were all right before I go.”

  “You’re so sweet. And cute.” Ava grins at me like she knows a secret. “Isn’t she cute, Spence?”

  Cute? No. The girl is beautiful. Gorgeous even. Not in the porcelain way like Winslow, but because of her tiny flaws.

  “Yeah,” I breathe out.

  “Well...” Charlie’s cheeks turn red and she still doesn’t meet my gaze. “I should go.”

  “Do you have a ride home?” I ask.

  “I’ll get an Uber.”

  “Spence can drive you,” Ava offers quickly, a hint of a smile on her lips, and a spark of mischief in her eyes. “I’ll be here for at least a few more hours.”

  I glance back at Charlie, who doesn’t look convinced. But then why would she trust me? And I still don’t know what’s up with her and Tatum. But I’m also not about to let her take an Uber home when she just spent her entire night taking care of my drunk ass little sister.

  “Let’s go.” I stand, about to take her hand, then stopping myself.

  “Really, it’s fine, I’ll just—”

  “I’m driving you home.” I give her a look, begging her to argue, because I’d rather hear her smart mouth than silence, but she just nods.

  I kiss Ava’s forehead and mutter, “You’re not off the hook. When I get back, we’re going to talk about this.”

  “Or what? You going to tell Mom and Dad?” I hear the hurt in her voice, the need and desire to have parents who actually gave a shit that their daughter is spiraling.

  “I’ll be back.” I squeeze her hand, then lead Charlie out toward where I parked my car. Thankfully it hasn’t been towed.

  The silence between us is deafening as I drive her back to her dorm.

  “Winslow and I aren’t—”

  “It’s none of my business,” she says, gaze focused anywhere but on me.

  “She’s an old family friend.”

  “So you’ve never slept with her?”

  “I don’t sleep with people, Charlie, I fuck them. And yes, Winslow and I have a history. But that’s all it is, history.”

  “Except that she thinks you’re engaged.”

  “If our parents had their way, we would be. She was drunk tonight, and I drove her home. That’s it. And you seemed to be occupied.” Even I hear the jealousy that creeps into my voice. “That guy, Tatum...he likes you.”

  She runs her palms over her thighs. “Tatum and I are just friends.”

  “Good.” I take her hand.

  “Spencer, I...” She swallows. “I can’t do this.”

  “Why not?”

  She gives a small laugh. “Because I don’t just fuck. That’s not me. I want...”

  I pull over to the curb in front of her dorm. “What do you want? Tell me.” Right now I’m ready to give her almost anything.

  “I want things someone like you could never give me.”

  I wince at the harsh reality of her words, knowing she’s probably right.

  “Try me.”

  “Spencer—”

  “Charlie,” I say, taking her chin between my fingers and turning her face toward me. “I like you.”

  She grunts. “You want to fuck—”

  “Before you finish that sentence, I’ll admit I do. I want you bad. From the first time I laid eyes on you, I wanted to kiss you, to bury myself inside of you and hear you call out my name. So yeah, I want to fuck you. But I’m willing to compromise.”

  “How romantic.” She rolls her eyes at me.

  “Is that what you want? Romance?”

  “No. Yes.” She shakes her head. “Maybe. I don’t know. I’m too busy to even think about what I want.”

  I frown, knowing what it’s like to live under the expectations of others, and I wonder who she’s living for. Her parents?

  “You’re a challenge, Charlie Hayes. I like that.” I like it a lot. Like her a lot.

  “I’m not trying to be. We just...we’re not right for each other. I don’t fit in your world.”

  “But I bet I would fit perfectly in you,” I tease, hoping to ease some of the tension between us.

  She laughs. “God, you really are corny.”

  “Only with you, babe.” I twine my fingers in hers, and she glances down at where our flesh meets. “Give me a chance. At least one more date. I can’t have this blemish on my record.”

  “A blemish, huh?” She shakes her head. “Trust me. You’ve gotten farther than most guys. Think of it as a win.”

  “Until I’m buried inside you, Charlie, everything else is a loss.” I press my hand to her cheek, my thumb running over the orange and black stripes. “Our face paint is looking pretty bad. You sure you don’t want me to come upstairs and help clean you up?”

  Charlie lifts her eyebrows, pink tongue darting over her lips. “You want to take a shower with me, Spencer?”

  “It would be romantic, just like you want.”

  “Right, I can just picture it now,” she says playfully. She drops her voice, taking on a sultry tone. Her bright eyes though, tell me this is all a tease. “You and me, stripped down in the dorm room bathroom, my caddy of shampoo and body wash at our heels. A plastic curtain. Fluorescent lighting. Super romantic.”

  I laugh, not having met a woman like her before. Down to earth. Real. Like a girl-next-door, but so hot it makes my balls ache. “You like playing hard to get?”

  She chuckles, smirking. Stepping out of the car. “What can I say? I liked to be chased.”

  “Good.”

  “Yeah?” she asks, leaning in the car, hand on the door.

  I shake my head. “Charlotte Hayes, you’re not gonna be the one who got away.”

  8

  Charlie

  I text Daphne after Spencer drops me off wondering where my crazy roommate is sleeping tonight, or rather who with. I can’t help but feel somewhat responsible for her. She sends me a string of emojis letting me know she’s good. I think. I’m not exactly sure what three eggplants, a unicorn, and a boat mean, but I think it’s her way of telling she’s finally hooking up with the rowing crew she’s been crushing on for months.

  More power to her.

  Me? Forever the virgin, who’s too scared to ever take the risk and give myself to someone.

  I wash my face, get in pajamas, and run my fingers over my record collection, looking for the perfect album to put me to sleep. The night was exhausting in so many ways, but also, there’s this tingling sense of hope that runs over me.

  Maybe it’s crazy to think that Spencer might really want the chase with me, that maybe he isn’t all talk.

  That kiss was real.

  Really powerful.

  At least for me. Or maybe it’s all part of his charm. The man has a reputation for a reason.

  My phone buzzes. I frown when I see a text from my mom. It’s nearly midnight here, she should be sleeping, but I know she’s been having more and more trouble lately managing her pain.

  Mom: Dad just told me Tatum won the game! Go Tigers!

  I smile, feeling so lucky to have parents who are so invested in my life.

  Me: It was pretty epic. He earned bragging rights for sure.

  My thumbs hover over the keypad. She has enough on her mind that I don’t want to burden her with my boy trouble, and job problems. I still haven’t told them that I was fired. She and Dad aren’t in a place to help me with any of them anyway.

  Me: Miss you.

  Mom: Miss you more, sweetpea. Just had Dad pull out Christmas decorations. Will wait to do the tree until you get home.

  Hot tears fill
my eyes and I wipe them away. How am I going to get back home when my checking account is in such a sorry state?

  Me: Can’t wait. The countdown is on :)

  Mom: 22 days until your break!

  I swallow. Okay, the countdown is literally on.

  Me: G2G. XOXO

  I set down my phone, wishing things were easier. Spencer and Winslow and Tatum and poor Ava. It was a complicated blur of a night. I pull out The Partridge Family Christmas Album feeling a strong tug of nostalgia for home. I take the record out of the sleeve and place it on the platter, and set the tone arm down. The familiar sounds of Christmas fill my room, and I get in bed, hoping for sweet sleep.

  I wake to my phone buzzing again. My first thought is something’s happened with Mom, but when I look at the incoming text, I see it’s Jill. We met last year because the two of us were both looking for extra jobs on the bulletin board outside the student center. We bonded over the fact we are both work-study students who are also thrift store junkies. Clichéd, maybe. Frugal - for sure. After scouring the racks at the Goodwill together, we decided anytime we needed a shift covered on campus we’d have one another’s backs.

  She still doesn’t know I lost my gig last week. I’ve been a waitress for campus events for two years and she’s been a janitor. Both jobs have their perks. She has more job security since she works alone. Meaning no chance of losing her paycheck over tossing champagne in someone's face.

  Jill: You up for it? It’s a 4 hour shift.

  Me: Yes. Please!!!!!!

  Jill: LOL. Simmer down. You strapped for cash?

  Me: Aren’t I always?

  Jill: Touché. I’ll drop off the keys if that’s cool?

  Later, after Jill’s brought me the keys and given me the details, I dig through my drawers for something to wear. I settle on ripped boyfriend jeans, Converse, and an oversized black sweater, figuring I don’t need to make a fashion statement this afternoon. I tie a red bandana in my hair and call it good.

  As I’m about to leave, Daphne struts in. I look at the clock. Eleven am. She is carrying two cups of coffee, however, and hands me one.