Trust in Me
A novella
J Lynn

Copyright

Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

77–85 Fulham Palace Road

Hammersmith, London W6 8JB

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2013

Copyright © Jennifer L Armentrout 2013

Excerpt from Be With Me Copyright © Jennifer L Armentrout 2014

Cover images © Shutterstock.com

Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2013

Jennifer L Armentrout asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © October 2013 ISBN: 9780007538973

Version: 2014-07-28

This is for all the fans of Cam and his cookies, who wanted more of our egg-boiling lover boy. Enjoy.

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

About the Author

Also by J Lynn

Read on for an extract from Be With Me

About the Publisher

Chapter 1

Jase Winstead was a cruel motherfucker.

Going to Ass-tronomy 101was the last thing I wanted to be doing at nine in the damn morning, especially since all the class did was remind me of the first time I entered Professor Drage’s class and why I’d made a hasty, unplanned exit my freshman year. And I really didn’t need Jase’s taunting text messages about why scheduling classes before noon was unhealthy.

Considering I was going on—oh, I don’t know, two hours of sleep—and I could still taste the tequila and other things I really didn’t want to even think about from last night, I was currently a walking poster child for how not to have a healthy and happy first day of fall classes.

I watched the door to astronomy swing shut and then glanced back down at my phone. Jase’s text mocked me.

Skip. I have beer. X-Box. FIFA ’13

Well, shit. That was hella tempting. Ollie had trashed our Xbox the weekend before, during a brutal showdown of Call of Duty.

I was a few minutes late for class.

Astronomy, or soccer on the Box? Not really a tough call.

Mind made up, I pivoted around and started to respond back to Jase when the double doors flung open like a tornado had ripped through the stairwell. My head jerked up just in time to see something small and something red come barreling straight at me.

There was no stopping the collision.

A little body smacked right into me and bounced back, arms flailing like a drowning victim. The bag, which looked like it weighed more than the owner, toppled her over.

Reacting out of instinct, I shot forward, dropping my own bag and wrapping my arm around her waist, but the backpack went in one direction, the contents in the other. She was still reeling, like one of those inflatable pop bags. I tightened my hold, stilling her before she did some serious damage to herself. She jerked upright. Deep auburn hair flew forward, snapping me in the face. The scent of berries and something musky and good filled me.

Holy shit, Strawberry Shortcake just ran me over.

I chuckled and slipped my cell into my pocket, about to let her go, but the girl locked up. Every muscle seemed to go rigid. As tiny as she was, barely reaching my shoulders, she seemed to suddenly get smaller, shrinking into herself. Was she hurt?

And did she somehow mistake Shepherd for a nearby middle school?

“Whoa,” I said. “You okay, sweetheart?”

No response for about a half minute, and I started to get real concerned. Then she dragged in a deep breath, causing her chest to rise flush against mine. I froze at the feel of her curves. Definitely not a middle schooler, unless they were developing in ways they hadn’t when I was there. And, if so, I was fucking envious of those boys.

Okay, now I felt like I needed a shower, because even that disturbed me.

Was I still drunk from last night? I was going to go with a yes.

“Hey,” I tried again, voice lower. “Are you okay?” When there was still no response, I pressed two fingers under her chin. Her skin was soft and too cool. Wondering if it was possible for a person to pass out and remain standing, I gently lifted her head, my mouth opening to ask her again, but words died somewhere between my brain and my mouth.

I blinked, because like a total dumbass, I thought that would change what I was seeing. Not that I wanted to change what I was seeing, but damn …

What guy didn’t have a soft spot for a redhead?

Pretty was too weak of a word to describe her. Her eyes were large and the color of warm whiskey. Freckles dotted the bridge of her small nose and her cheeks were well defined. Lips were a sweet cherry color and wide for her face, full and plump. The kind of lips that belonged to the kind of mouth that could and would bring a man—

“Let. Go. Of. Me.”

The hardness of her voice, laced with barely controlled panic, caused me to immediately drop her arm and take a healthy step back.

She swayed a little at the loss of support, and I almost reached for her again, but I valued my balls. One day I’d like to have a kid or some shit, and I had a feeling if I touched her again, that would not be in my future.

Pushing strands of thick hair out of her face, she cautiously stepped away from her bag. Thick lashes specked with red lifted, and, for a moment, neither of us moved and then her gaze moved over my face and then down. Chick was blatantly checking me out.

Perhaps my balls weren’t in danger.

A pretty pink flush spread across her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I was in a hurry to get to class. I’m late and …”

I grinned as I knelt down, gathering up the spilled items. How one girl could have so many damn pens was beyond me. Blue. Purple. Black. Red. Orange. What the fuck? Who wrote with an orange pen?

She joined me, grabbing the rest of her pens as her head tilted in a way that a wall of coppery hair shielded her face. “You don’t have to help me.”

“It’s no problem.” I picked up a slip of paper that turned out to be her schedule. Quick glance at the classes confirmed she was a freshman. “Astronomy 101? I’m heading that way, too.”

Jase and beer and FIFA ’13 were going to have to wait.

“You’re late.” She was still hiding behind her hair. “I really am sorry.”

Picking up her last notebook, I shoved it into the bag and stood. I handed it back to her, willing her to look up. I don’t know why, call me a mama’s boy, but I liked my girls smiling and not appearing like they were on the verge of tears. “It’s okay. I’m used to having girls throw themselves at me.” Her chin lifted up just the slightest, and my grin spread. “Trying to jump on my back is new, though. Kind of liked it.”

Her head jerked up and all that hair slid back. “I wasn’t trying to jump on your back or throw myself at you.”

“You weren’t?” My phone vibrated in my pocket. I ignored it. “Well, that’s a shame. If so, it would have made this the best first day of class in history.”

She studied me as she clutched her bag to her chest, and my gaze dropped to the piece of paper I held. “Avery Morgansten?”

“How do you know my name?” she snapped.

What a touchy little thing. “It’s on your schedule.”

“Oh.” She tucked her hair back and a slight tremor rocked her hand as she took the schedule.

When I was little, my mom said I had a soft spot for the underdog. Wounded pigeons. Three-legged dogs. Skinny pigs. My sister was the same way. We had a sixth sense when it came to rooting them out, and I may not have known jack about this chick, but she was obviously new to this school, obviously uncomfortable, obviously having a shitty start to her day, and I felt bad for her.

“My name is Cameron Hamilton,” I told her. “But everyone calls me Cam.”

Her lips moved like she was repeating my name, and I sort of liked how that looked. “Thank you again, Cam.”

Bending down, I picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder. Knocking my hair out of my face, I smiled the kind of smile that usually got me what I wanted. “Well, let’s make our grand entrance.”

I’d made it to the door to astronomy when I realized she hadn’t moved. Glancing over my shoulder, I frowned as she started to back away. “You’re going in the wrong direction, sweetheart.”

“I can’t,” she croaked out.

“Can’t what?” I faced her.

Avery’s eyes met mine for a second and then she spun around and ran. Bag thumping off her hip, hair flying like a cape. The chick ran, actually freaking ran. My mouth dropped open.

What in the hell had just happened?

The door opened behind me, and a deep, slightly accented voice called out. “Mr. Hamilton, are you joining us today?”

Shit. I closed my eyes.

“Or are you planning to stand in the hallway the remaining time?” Professor Drage asked.

Sighing, I turned around. “Joining the class, clearly.”

“Clearly,” the professor repeated, holding a stack of stapled papers. “Syllabus.”

I took one and then, on second thought, I took another. Just in case Avery Morgansten showed her face again.

Jase leaned against the back of my truck, one hand shoved through his brown hair, holding it off his glistening forehead. Several strands stuck straight up between his fingers. “It’s as hot as balls.”

For late August, it was sweltering. Not even the shade provided by the large oaks surrounding the back parking lot across from White Hall provided any relief. I was dreading opening the door to the sweatbox.

“Truest thing you’ve ever spoken.” Ollie squinted up at the trees. “It’s so hot the only answer is to get naked.”

My gaze went to him. “You’re already as naked as you need to be, dude.”

Ollie glanced down at himself and grinned. No shirt. Shorts hanging low. Flip-flops. Nothing else. “You know damn well I could get more naked.”

Unfortunately that was true. We’d shared a three-bedroom apartment in University Heights for the last three years. Within a week of living together, Ollie had said screw it to modesty. I’d seen the guy’s junk more times then I cared to even think about. He was graduating in the spring, as I should’ve been, and I was going to miss the idiot.

“Ticket.” Jase nodded at my windshield.

I sighed, looking over. A cream-colored slip of paper was neatly placed under my wiper. The parking lot was reserved for staff, but with the lack of parking around these parts, I helped myself to whatever spot I could find. “I’ll add it to my collection.”

“Which is massive.” Ollie pulled a band off his wrist and tugged his shoulder-length blond hair into a ponytail. “So, party tonight at our place?”

My brows shot up. “Huh?”

Jase grinned as he folded his arms across his chest.

“It’s a back-to-school party.” Ollie stretched, cracking his back as he yawned. “Just a little get-together.”

“Oh God.”

Jase’s grin spread, and I wanted to knock it off his face. The last time Ollie had had a ‘little get-together’ it had been standing room only in our apartment. Cops might have been involved.

“Order some pizza. I need to get—” Ollie stopped midsentence and turned toward a curvy brunette walking past. In a blink of an eye, he ditched us and was dropping an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Hey, girl, hey.”

The brunette giggled, wrapping an arm around Ollie’s waist.

I turned, raising my hands. “What?”

“Lost cause.” Jase rolled his eyes. “That fucker has eyes in the back of his head when it comes to girls.”

“Very true.”

“How he gets laid on a regular basis is beyond me.”

“It’s the greatest mystery in life.” I loped around the front of my truck, grabbed the ticket, and then opened the driver’s door. Heat blew into my face. “Damn.”

Jase angled his body toward me. “What happened with you today? You didn’t respond to my text. Thought the FIFA hooked you in.”

“Aw, did you miss me?” I tugged off my shirt, rolled it up, and tossed it into the truck.

“Maybe I did.”

Laughing, I grabbed my cap off the seat and shoved it on, shielding my eyes. “I didn’t know we were dating.”

“My feelings are hurt now.”

“I’ll buy you a beer next time we’re out.”

“That works. I’m easy.”

I grinned. “Don’t I know.”

Jase laughed as he turned, hanging his arms over the side of the truck bed. The easygoing smile faded as he slipped a pair of sunglasses on. I knew that look. Nothing good came from it. Very few people knew just how shitty life could get for Jase. It was easy for everyone to assume otherwise, with how Jase was the go-to guy for fixing other people’s crap, including mine.

I turned the air on and shut the door, then joined him at the side of the truck. The metal was hot against the skin of my underarms as I leaned in, stretching my calves. “What’s up?”

One dark eyebrow rose above the rim of his glasses. “You heading to the gym or something?”

“That’s what I was thinking.” I switched my legs, working out the kink. “You wanna go with me?”

“Nah,” he said. “I’ve got to swing by the farm. Check on a few things.”

“How’s Jack?”

A wide smile broke out across Jase’s face, causing a young professor walking past the truck to trip in her heels. “He’s great,” he said, his tone light like it was always was when he talked about his brother. “Told me yesterday that when he grows up, he wants to be Chuck Norris.”

I laughed. “Can’t go wrong with that.”

“Nope.” He looked over, peering at me above his shades. “How you doing?”

“Good.” I pushed back, smacking my hands off the rail. “Why you ask?”

Jase raised a shoulder. “Just checking in.”

Some days that comment pissed me off. Other days it did nothing. Luckily for Jase, it was one of those days when the shit just rolled off my back. “I’m not about to end up in a corner, whispering ‘forever’ anytime soon. It’s all cool.”

“Good to hear.” Jase grinned as he backed off, his head turning toward where the young teacher had disappeared. “Party at your place, right?”

“Why not?” I headed to the driver’s side. “Half the campus will be there I’m sure.”

“True.” Jase pivoted around. “See you later.”

I climbed into the cool interior and headed out of the parking lot. My lazy ass needed to get to the gym on West Campus, but my ass also wanted to get to the couch for a nap.

Turning left at the stop sign, I passed the duplexes on the right as a football flew out one of the doors, smacking one of the guys in the back of the head. Laughing, I reached over for the—

Something red caught my attention.

My eyes were heat-seeking missiles, searching out the source, and hot damn. My gaze narrowed. Was that Shortcake?

A tree obscured my view for a second and then she reappeared, the sun reflecting off the wide bracelet circling her wrist.

Hells yeah, it was.

I didn’t even think twice about what I did next. Grinning, I slid the cap around backward and hung a sharp right, blocking the road.

Avery jumped back onto the curb, her big eyes going round. As I hit the button to the passenger window, rolling it down, her mouth dropped open.

I grinned, happy to see that Shortcake had made it through her first day alive. “Avery Morgansten, we meet again.”

She glanced around her, like she thought I might be talking to someone else. “Cameron Hamilton … hi.”

I leaned forward, dropping an arm over the steering wheel. She looked damn cute standing there, fidgeting with her bracelet. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

Biting down on that plump lower lip, her gaze dropped, zeroing in on my tattoo as she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

Shortcake was definitely what I would categorize as awkward. Maybe it came from having a younger sister, because the need to make her feel comfortable rode me hard, but it seemed like fighting a losing battle.

“You running into me, me almost running over you?” I elaborated. “It’s like we’re a catastrophe waiting to happen.”

Silence.

Try this one more time. “Where are you heading?”

“My car,” she said, proving to me that she could speak. “I’m about to run out of time. She shifted her weight again. “So …”

“Well, hop in, sweetheart. I can give you a ride.”

She stared at me like I asked her to get in the back of my kidnapper van. “No. It’s okay. I’m right up the hill. No need at all.”

“It’s no problem.” Never had met a female so damn resistant to common courtesy. “It’s the least I can do after almost running you over.”

“Thank you, but—”

“Yo! Cam!” Kevin came out of fucking nowhere, jogging past Avery. “What you up to, man?”

Oddly irritated, I kept my gaze on Shortcake and resisted the urge to nudge the dude out of the way with my truck. “Nothing, Kevin, just trying to have a conversation.”

Avery raised her hand, wiggled her fingers, and bolted around Kevin and my truck. My gaze followed her as Kevin went on and on about some shit I didn’t give a flying fuck about.

“Shit,” I muttered, sitting back in the seat.

Avery ran again.

And I had the craziest urge to give chase.

Chapter 2

Shit got real at our parties the second Ollie had Raphael out of his habitat. Every single fucking time. Standing in the middle of the living room, I watched him, shaking my head.

“Why?” Jase asked, tipping the bottle of his beer back.

I snickered. “Don’t you think if I knew why, I’d find a way to stop him?”

“I think it’s cute,” said a soft, feminine voice.

Jase and I turned toward the couch. No one sat quite the way Stephanie Keith did. One long, shapely tanned leg hooked over the knee of the other in the perfect picture of modesty. But the goddamn denim skirt of hers was as modest as Ollie after taking a shower. If I moved my head just a fraction of inch to the right and tipped my chin down, which I had about three minutes ago, I could see the curve of her ass cheek.

Steph was a thong girl.

Or a no-panties girl depending on her mood, and it was looking like she might be in the mood. Steph leaned forward slightly, crossing slender arms under her breasts, giving me and anyone else who happened to be looking—quick check told me Jase was—a nice view of her tits. And they were nice. I’d seen them up close and personal quite a few times. Those baby-blue eyes of hers promised a happy ending and they were fixed on mine.

Surprisingly, there was absolutely no shrinking of my nylon shorts in the crotch area, which was a damn waste of tits and ass.

Half of Jase’s frat would give their left nut to be on the receiving end of Stephanie’s attention. There was a time I gave my right one, back when I couldn’t even keep track of who was who, but that felt like ages ago, back when the idea of staying with one girl made me want to chew off my own arm. Now?

Well, shit, I didn’t know what I wanted now. Hadn’t for a while, which probably explained why I wasn’t scooping Steph up, taking her back to my bedroom, and dropping pants.

Steph was a good girl, but the time of giving up my right nut had long since passed.

Averting my gaze to where Ollie was dancing in front of the TV, holding the squirming Raphael in the air, I took a drink of my beer. “He’s molesting my tortoise.”

She laughed as she stood. “I don’t think that’s what he’s doing.” One arm wrapped around mine and she put her chin on my shoulder. A sheet of inky black hair slipped over the bare skin of my chest. “But I wouldn’t mind being molested.”

Over the music, I heard the oven timer go off. Gently disentangling myself, I shot Jase a look. An unsympathetic grin crossed his face. Bastard. “Be right back.”

Dodging guys, I trotted into the kitchen before Steph could respond. The girl wasn’t going to be that disappointed with my lack of interest. I’d bet ten bucks she’d moved on to Jase or someone else by the time I got back in.

I sat the beer down on the counter and opened the oven door, inhaling the aroma of freshly baked chocolate-chip cookies. And not that premade crap. This shit was from scratch.

And they would be banging.

Setting the sheet aside, I flipped off the oven and scooped up a cookie. So hot, the dough sunk in, squeezing the tiny chips of chocolate onto the chunks of walnut. I broke the cookie in half and popped it into my mouth.

“Fuck,” I groaned.

Burned like holy fucking hell, but it was worth it. Washing it down with my beer, I stepped out of the kitchen just in time to see Ollie heading toward the front door. With Raphael.

“Oh, come the hell on.” I put my beer down.

“Be free, little green buddy,” he coaxed, kissing Raphael’s shell. “Be free.”

“Bring Raphael back!” I yelled, laughing as Ollie drunk-karate-kicked the front door the rest of the way open. “You fucktard!”

Ollie put Raphael down and gently nudged his shell. “Free.”

Grabbing his arm, I spun him around and pushed him back into the apartment. Laughing, Ollie grabbed Steph’s friend and lifted her over his shoulder. A riot of squeals broke out.

I scooped up the tortoise. “Sorry, Raphael. My friends are complete, fucking …” A strange tingle broke out across my neck. I looked to my left and then my right, seeing Avery standing in a doorway, her brown eyes wide. “Assholes. What the …?”

I hadn’t drunk nearly enough to be hallucinating, but I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that Shortcake was standing in my apartment building. The apartment had been empty whenever I’d been around over the summer, but someone, obviously, could’ve moved in.

And based on the way she was dressed, someone she was very familiar with. The cotton shorts were short, ending at the thigh, and my gaze got hung up on her legs. They were long, not too skinny and perfectly shaped. Who would’ve thought Shortcake would be rocking a pair of legs like that? Blood shot straight to my groin. The long-sleeve shirt she wore covered everything, but it was thin.

Hell yeah, it was thin.

Her breasts were soft swells under the shirt, fuller than they had felt pressed against my chest earlier, and those tips …

Her cheeks flushed several shades of pink. “Hey …”

I blinked and when she didn’t disappear and neither did my sudden, raging hard-on, I assumed she was real. “Avery Morgansten? This is becoming a habit.”

“Yeah,” she said. “It is.”

“Do you live here or are you visiting …?” Raphael started squirming.

She cleared her throat, watching the tortoise. “I … I live here.”

“No shit?” Holy crap. I made my way around the railing to the stairwell and toward her door. I didn’t miss how her eyes went to my abs. I liked. So did my cock. “You really live here?”

“Yes. I really live here.”

“This is … I don’t even know.” I laughed, somewhat dumbstruck. “Really crazy.”

“Why?” Confusion marked her pretty face, crinkling the skin between the delicate brows.

“I live here.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You’re joking, right?”

“No. I’ve been living here for a while—like a couple of years with my roommate. You know, the fucktard who put poor Raphael outside.”

“Hey!” Ollie yelled. “I have a name. It’s Señor Fucktard!”

I laughed. “Anyway, did you move in over the weekend?”

She nodded.

“Makes sense. I was back home, visiting the fam.” I cradled Raphael against my chest before he wiggled his way to a broken shell. “Well, hell …”

Avery tipped her head back to meet my gaze. For a moment, she held mine with her own soulful gaze, before turning her attention to Raphael. Her eyes … they reminded me of something. “That’s … um, your tortoise?”

“Yeah.” I lifted him up. “Raphael, meet Avery.”

She bit down on her lip and gave Raphael a wave, and a grin split my lips. Shortcake got pointers for that. “That’s a very interesting pet.”

“And those are very interesting shorts. What are they?” I took another long look at those legs. I couldn’t help myself. “Pizza slices?”

“They’re ice cream cones.”

“Huh. I like them.” I lifted my gaze, taking my time. “A lot.”

She finally let go of her death grip on the door and crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes narrowed when I grinned. “Thanks. That means a lot to me.”

“It should. They have my seal of approval.” I watched the flush continue to stain her cheeks. “I need to get Raphael back in his little habitat before he pees on my hand, which he’s bound to do, and that sucks.”

Her lips twitched into a small grin. “I can imagine.”

Did Shortcake just grin? It had to be a first. I wondered what she looked like when she actually smiled. “So, you should come over. The guys are about to leave, but I’m sure they’ll be around for a little longer. You can meet them.” I leaned in, lowering my voice. “They’re no way as interesting as I am, but they’re not bad.”

Avery’s gaze flickered over my shoulder. Indecision crawled over her face. Come on, Shortcake, come out and play. She shook her head. “Thanks, but I was heading to bed.”

Disappointment pricked at my skin. “This early?”

“It has to be after midnight.”

I grinned. “That’s still early.”

“Maybe to you.”

“Are you sure?” I was about to pull out the big guns. “I have cookies.”

“Cookies?” Two brows rose.

“Yeah, and I made them. I’m quite the baker.”

“You baked cookies?”

The way she asked that was like I’d just admitted to baking a homemade bomb in my kitchen. “I bake a lot of things, and I’m sure you’re dying to know all about those things. But tonight, it was chocolate-and-walnut cookies. They are the shit if I do say so myself.”

Her lips twitched again. “As great as that sounds, I’m going to have to pass.”

“Maybe later then?”

“Maybe.” She stepped back, reaching for the door. “Well, it’s good seeing you again, Cameron.”

“Cam,” I corrected. “And hey, we didn’t almost run each other over. Look at us, changing up the pattern.”

“That’s a good thing.” She took a deep breath. “You should get back before Raphael pees on your hand.”

“Would be worth it.”

Confusion marked her features. “Why?”

I sure as hell wasn’t going to explain it. “If you change your mind, I’ll be up for a while.”

“I’m not going to. Good night, Cam.”

Ouch. Damn. Shortcake just dismissed my ass. For some reason, that made me smile. Maybe because I couldn’t remember the last time a girl outright sent me away. Interesting. Here I thought I was incredibly charming.

I took a step back as Raphael poked his head out of his shell. “See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Astronomy class? Or are you skipping again?”

“No,” she sighed, flushing, and I couldn’t help but wonder how far that flush traveled south. The likelihood of me finding out seemed very slim. “I’ll be there.”

“Great.” I forced myself to back away, because I was pretty sure I could stand there for an hour just to mess with her. “Good night, Avery.”

Shortcake ducked behind the door like Raphael was about to pee on her head. I chuckled when I heard the lock click in place. I don’t know how long I stood there while Raphael’s little legs flailed, staring at the closed door.

“What are you doing, Cam?”

I turned at the sound of Steph’s voice. She stood in the doorway, head tilted against the frame, smiling and the picture of willingness. Unlike the girl on the other side of the door I stood in front of.

“I don’t know,” I said, heading back to my apartment. I really didn’t have a friggin’ clue.

Chapter 3

I’d never been a morning person, but today, I was up at the butt crack of dawn, having only slept a few hours. While Ollie was still passed out on the couch, facedown, one arm flung toward the floor, I boiled four eggs, ate them, and scooped up some cookies for the road.

Ollie still hadn’t moved when I slammed the door shut behind me.

I arrived on campus, weirdly early for probably the first time in my life, and headed into the Robert Byrd Building. Once inside the astronomy class, my gaze immediately started scanning the room.

If I were Shortcake, where would I sit? Probably in the back of the class.

I searched out a familiar bowed head. In the dimly lit classroom, her hair wasn’t as red as it was in the sunlight. Why I even noticed that was beyond me. And why I headed straight for her went straight over my head.

In middle school, I had a crush on this girl in my class. She was a lot like Shortcake—tiny, rarely spoke, nervous as one of those small dogs that shook all the time. But when she smiled, the fucking sun seemed to rise. She never gave me the time of day, but like a goober, I looked forward to seeing her every day. Turned out in high school, she liked girls and not boys, which probably explained why she had absolutely no interest in me.

Sliding my hand up the strap of my book bag, I could easily admit it would be hella disappointing if that were the case with Shortcake.

I strolled up on Avery, and she had no idea I was even there. Shoulders rolled forward, right hand toying with the bracelet on her left wrist. She was staring straight ahead, the taut expression on her face telling me that she might be physically present, but she wasn’t in this room.

Was Shortcake ever relaxed? Didn’t seem that way.

I glanced up at the front of the class, where a few people I knew were sitting. That’s where I should go. Instead, I eased my way down the row of seats. Shortcake still hadn’t registered I was there.

“Morning, sweetheart,” I said, deciding against sitting down first.

Shortcake jerked like a startled cat, twisting in the seat. Her jaw dropped as her eyes made contact with me. She said nothing as I slid into the seat next to her and settled back.

“You look a little rough this morning,” I commented.

Her lips pursed. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Glad to see you make it to class this time.” I scooted down, kicking my feet up on the seat in front of me. “Though, I kind of missed the whole running-into-each-other thing. Provided a lot of excitement.”

“I don’t miss that.” She started digging around in her bag, pulling out a pristine notebook. I couldn’t remember the last time I bought a new notebook for class. I believed in recycling them. “That was really embarrassing.”

“It shouldn’t have been.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re the one who got plowed. I was doing the plowing.”

My mouth dropped open as a laugh caught in my throat, but then my brain took the word “plowing” to the gutter, and I had to spread my thighs a little to get comfortable. There were so many things I could do with that comment. They all rushed to the tip of my tongue. Some would burn the ears off of strippers, but one look at Shortcake told me that would not go over well.

Her face was as red as the cover of the notebook she was currently staring at. The chick … damn, she was so awkward—endearingly awkward. I wondered if she was homeschooled through high school.

While her awkwardness was damn cute and entertaining, I searched for something way off topic to say. “Raphael is doing great, by the way.”

A small grin appeared on those pretty lips. “That’s good to hear. Did he pee on your hand?”

“No, but it was a close call. Brought you something.”

“Turtle pee?”

I laughed, amused by her quickness as I pulled out the syllabus, spying the cookies I’d brought with me. “Sorry to let you down, but no. It’s a syllabus. I know. Thrilling shit right here, but figured since you didn’t come to class on Monday, you’d need one, so I got it from the professor.”

“Thank you. That was really thoughtful.”

“Well, prepare yourself. I am all kinds of thoughtful this week. I brought you something else.”

She started chewing on the edge of her pen as I pulled out the napkin. “Cookie for you. Cookie for me.”

Slowly lowering the pen, she shook her head. “You didn’t have to do that.”

I didn’t bring her a gold ring. “It’s just a cookie, sweetheart.”

Her head shook again as she stared at me. You’d think I was handing her crack or something. Sighing, I covered one of the cookies with the napkin and unceremoniously dropped the cookie on top of her notebook. “I know they say you shouldn’t take candy from strangers, but it’s a cookie and not candy and technically, I’m not a stranger.”

She stared at me.

Watching her from under my lashes, I took a bite of the other cookie and closed my eyes. I tipped my head back as the chocolate-covered walnuts danced over my taste buds. I moaned, knowing exactly what I was doing. My cookies were damn good, so the next sound I made wasn’t an overexaggeration.

“Is it really that good?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah, this is the shit. I told you that last night. Be better if I had some milk.” I took another bite. “Mmm, milk.”

In the following silence, I opened one eye and fought a grin. She was watching me, lips slightly parted. “It’s the combination of walnut and chocolate. You mix that together and it’s like an explosion of sex in your mouth, but not as messy. The only thing better would be those teeny tiny Reese’s cups. When the dough is warm, you plop those suckers in … Anyway, you just need to try it. Take a small bite.”

Her gaze dropped to the cookie in her lap and she let out a low breath. Picking up a cookie, she took a bite.

I couldn’t stop watching her. “Good? Right?”

She nodded.

“Well, I have a whole ton of them at home. Just saying …” My gaze was riveted on her. Who knew watching a girl eat a cookie could be so interesting? As she wiped her slender fingers off, I moved without thinking.

The warmth of my knee brushing hers traveled up my leg as I twisted in the seat, reached over, and took the napkin from her. “Crumb.”

“What?”

With my empty hand, I smoothed my thumb along her bottom lip. A jolt of something zinged up my arm and went straight to my cock. She stilled, her chest rising sharply and eyes widening. My hand lingered longer than it should have, but not as long as I wanted. Her lip was soft under my finger, her chin smooth against my palm. I forced myself to pull away.

There hadn’t been a damn crumb on her lip. I was a liar. But I wanted to touch her.

“Got it.” I smiled.

She looked flustered. Not upset, but unnerved. I tried to feel some level of guilt for touching her but couldn’t. I wasn’t sure what that said about me.

But then Professor Drage finally entered the front of the classroom. Drage was an odd fella. The green polyester suit was a staple. When I took this class the first time around, he used to mix up his wardrobe with an orange one. The checkered Vans and bow tie hadn’t changed in years.

I shifted in the seat, glancing over at Shortcake. The look on her face was priceless. I chuckled. “Professor Drage is a very … unique man.”

“I can see,” she murmured.

Professor Drage launched into a lecture. I wasn’t sure what it was about. Honestly, I wasn’t paying attention. Most of this stuff I already knew and hearing the shit again reminded me of my freshman year, something I didn’t like to dwell on.

One night had completely fucked up the path of my life.

Pushing that out of my head, I started sketching. Before I knew it, I’d drawn Big Foot and class was coming to an end in typical Drage fashion.

He started passing out star maps. “I know today is only Wednesday, but here is your first assignment for the weekend. Skies are supposed to be clear as a baby’s bottom on Saturday.”

“Clear as a baby’s bottom?” Avery muttered.

I chuckled.

“I want you to find the Corona Borealis in the sky—the actual, real, honest-to-goodness night sky,” Professor Drage explained. “You won’t need a telescope. Use your eyes or glasses or contacts or whatever. You can view it either Friday or Saturday night, but the weather is looking sketchy on Friday, so choose wisely.”

“Wait,” someone from up front said. “How do you use this map?”

I handed Shortcake a map and the grid sheets.

Professor Drage stopped and pinned the kid with a look that asked are you stupid. “You look at it.”

The student huffed. “I get that, but do we hold it up to the sky or something?”

“Sure. You could do that. Or you could just look at each of the constellations, see what they look like and then use your own eyes and brains to find it in the sky.” Drage paused. “Or use Google. I want all of you to start to get familiar with stargazing …” I faded out during half of what he was saying, coming back in toward the end. “So get with your partner and pick out a time. The grid will be turned back in to me on Monday. That’s all for the day. Good luck and may the force of the universe be with you today.”

“Partner?” Avery frantically looked around the classroom. “When did we pick partners?”

“On Monday,” I explained, shoving the notebook into my backpack. “You weren’t here.”

Shortcake looked like she was about to pass out as she leaned forward in her seat. “Avery?”

She took several deep breaths, like she was staving off a panic attack.

I arched a brow. “Avery.”

Her gaze darted to the door Drage had disappeared through. Her knuckles were bleached white from how tight she was holding her notebook.

“Avery.”

“What?” she snapped, whipping her gaze on me.

“We’re partners.”

A deep crevice formed between her brows. “Huh?”

“We. Are. Partners.” I sighed. “Apparently, Drage had the class pick their partners right at the beginning of class on Monday. I walked in afterward and at the end he told me to partner with anyone who joined the class on Wednesday or I’d be partner-less. And since I don’t like the idea of being partner-less, you and I are partners.”

She stared at me like I had just spoken Latin. “We have a choice to do this on our own?”

“Yeah, but who wants to go out staring at the sky at night by themselves?” Standing, I hefted my bag over my shoulder and started down the row. “Anyway, I know a perfect place we can do our assignment. Has to be Saturday, because I have plans Friday.”

Sucking, annoying as fuck plans on Friday.

“Wait.” She rushed after me. “I do.”

“You have plans on Saturday?” Hold up. What could she be doing on a Saturday night? I couldn’t skip out on Friday, but … “Well, I might—”

“No. I don’t have plans on Saturday, but we don’t have to be partners. I can do this by myself.”

I stopped in front of the doors, unsure if I had heard her right. “Why would you want to do all the assignments—and if you look at his class outline, there are a lot—all by yourself?”

She took a step back. “Well, I don’t really want to, but you don’t have to be my partner. I mean, you don’t owe me or anything.”

“I don’t get what you’re saying.” I honestly, seriously, a hundred percent, did not get what she was saying.

“What I’m saying is that …” She stopped, brows knitting into the deep V again. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

My mouth formed around the words “what the fuck.” “Is that a serious question?”

Shortcake ducked her gaze. “Yes.”

I stared at her and waited for her to say she was joking, but she didn’t. A knot formed in my chest, coming out of nowhere. Suddenly it was painfully obvious to me, and I mean painfully. Shortcake wasn’t just awkward, she was obviously on the friendless side of things, and I don’t know why that affected me. It shouldn’t have. I barely knew the girl and guiding her into conversation was as easy as disarming a bomb with your teeth, but it did bother me.

Underdog syndrome strikes again.

I took a deep breath. “All right, I guess I’m just a nice guy. And you’re obviously new—a freshman. You seemed to be a little out of it on Monday and then you ran off, wouldn’t even come into class and I—”

“I don’t want your pity.” She sucked in a shrill sound.

I scowled at the insinuation. “You don’t have my pity, Avery. I’m just saying you seemed out of it on Monday and I figured we’d just be partners.”

Doubt crossed her features.

“I can see that you don’t believe me. Maybe it was the cookie? Well, you refused to taste my cookies last night and honestly, I was going to eat the other cookie, but you looked so tired and sad sitting there, I figured you needed the cookie more than I did.”

Which might have been a lie. There was a good chance that I had brought two cookies because Shortcake might make an appearance. Then again, I may be reading too much into it.

She was watching me like I was a puzzle, and honestly, I wasn’t that complicated.

“And you’re pretty,” I added.

She blinked “What?”

Trying and failing to hide my amusement, I turned and opened the door, guiding her into the hallway. “Do not tell me you don’t know you’re pretty. If so, I’m about to lose all faith in mankind. You don’t want to be responsible for that.”

“I know I’m pretty—I mean, that’s not what I meant.” She paused, groaning. “I don’t think I’m ugly. That’s what—”

“Good. Now we’ve cleared that up.” I tugged on her bag, guiding her to the stairs. “Watch the door. It can be tricky.”

“What does the whole pretty comment have to do with anything?”

“You asked why I’m so nice to you. It’s mutually beneficial.”

Shortcake came to a complete stop behind me. “You’re nice to me because you think I’m pretty?”

“And because you have brown eyes. I’m a sucker for big old brown eyes.” I laughed. “I’m a shallow, shallow boy. Hey, it helps that you’re pretty. It brings out the nice guy in me. Makes me want to share my cookies with you.”

“So if I was ugly, you wouldn’t be nice to me?”

Spinning around, I faced her. “I’d still be nice to you if you were ugly.”

“Okay.”

I grinned as I tipped my chin down, bringing our mouths close. “I just wouldn’t offer you any cookies.”

She folded her arms. “I’m beginning to think ‘cookie’ is a code word for something else.”

“Maybe it is.” I tugged on her bag again as I went down a step. “And just think about it. If ‘cookie’ is a code word, whatever it symbolizes, it’s been in your mouth, sweetheart.”

For a moment, she stared at me and then she laughed. The sound was untried and hoarse, as if she didn’t laugh often, and that caused that weird knot in my chest to throb. “You are really …”

“Amazing? Awesome?” I wanted to hear her laugh again. “Astonishing?”

“I was going to go with bizarre.”

“Well, hell, if I had feelings that might actually hurt.”

She grinned, and that meant we were close to a smile again. “I guess it’s a good thing that you don’t have feelings then, huh?”

“Guess so.” I hopped onto the landing. “You better hurry or you’re going to be late to your next class.”

Her eyes widened, and I laughed, stepping out the way so Shortcake didn’t run me over as she darted down the steps. “Damn, if only you moved that fast for my cookies, I’d be a happy guy.”

“Shut up!”

“Hey!” I came around to the top of the next flight of stairs. “Don’t you want to know what ‘cookies’ is a code word for?”

“No! Good God, no!”

I tipped back my head and laughed as the last strands of coppery hair disappeared from sight. I didn’t know what it was about Avery Morgansten, but she was better than the quiet girl in middle school who turned out to like girls.

A lot better.

Chapter 4

There were moments in my life where I had no idea how I got where I was. Like what exactly had occurred to create the situation I was in?

Steph, wearing another skirt that barely covered her ass, slid a hand down my arm. She said something, whispered in my ear, but I really wasn’t paying attention.

My gaze drifted from the TV to the hair band lying on my coffee table.

Oh, that’s how this all got started.

A text from Steph claiming that she’d left something “super important” at my apartment from the night of the party. A rubber band. If I only had known that was what she was looking for, I would’ve walked my ass to the Rite Aid and bought her a whole package of them.

“Want me to get you a beer from the fridge?” she asked.

She really was the perfect woman. “No. I’m good.”

I could feel her eyes on me as I lifted the glass of water and took a drink. Beer. Me. Steph. No one else in the apartment. Not a good combination. Or maybe a good one depending on how you looked at it.

Cuddling up against my side, her full breasts pressed against my arm.

I so needed to look at this as a good thing instead of wondering how a couch that I could stretch out on suddenly felt too small.

“So, are you turning over a new leaf or something?” she asked, gaze fixed on the TV as she ran the tips of her nails up and down my arm. I was watching a boxing rerun and I doubted she was that interested. “Are you no longer drinking?”

I laughed under my breath. “Nah. Just not feeling it tonight.”

“Oh.” Steph’s hand moved from my forearm to the center of my chest. “What are you feeling tonight?”

Loaded question, so I said nothing as a glove-covered fist slammed into a jaw. Steph perceived my silence the way she wanted, sliding her hand down the bare skin of my abs. Blood followed the tips of her fingers as they drifted below my navel, reaching the band on my shorts.

My body was into what was about to happen, thickening and swelling, straining up to meet her wandering fingers. And my body knew her fingers well, remembered exactly how skilled she was. But my head wasn’t even in the same ballpark as my cock.

Tipping my head back against the couch, I exhaled slowly. There wasn’t a damn thing wrong with what was happening. Her quick fingers skimmed over my limp hand, smoothing along my hip. The muscles jumped in response. So did something else.

I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply. My heart wasn’t pounding. I was thinking about the meeting I’d have to attend Friday night. And I was thinking about Saturday night and stars when her hand curled around my cock, gripping me through the nylon shorts. A pulse shot straight up my spine as she moved her hand up.

Pleasure swirled low in my gut, and I knew if I let her continue, I would enjoy it. Already, it felt damn good. Always did, but I wouldn’t return the act. Weeks ago, I would’ve, out of pure principal. Give. Take. But now I didn’t care enough to do it and that wasn’t right.

“Hey,” I said, voice gruff as I gently grabbed her arm, pulling her hand away.

Her perfect lips formed a perfect O. “What?”

“I’m not feeling this.” I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed her palm before placing it back on her thigh. My cock was already soft. “Okay?”

Surprise shuttled across her face, and a part of me was reeling in shock. Had I really just turned her down? I had.

Pink mottled her tan cheeks as she turned her gaze to the TV, and I, well, I felt like a dick. Shit. Sitting forward, I dropped my hands on my knees. “You want anything to eat?”

Mute, she shook her head no.

Double shit. “Look, Steph, it’s not you, and I’m being serious about that. I’m just feeling weird tonight. All right?”

Steph glanced at me and slowly nodded. “Okay.”

I let go of my breath in relief. Like I said before, Steph was a good girl and we had history. Things were just different now. She stayed for a little while longer and then she was ready to go. I got up to walk her out. At the door, she turned and stretched up, kissing my cheek.

I laughed. “What was that for?”

Steph shrugged as I closed the door behind us. “Are you going to the frat party?” she asked.

“Got plans,” I told her.

She pouted prettily. “Can’t you skip it Friday night?”

Reaching over, I tugged on a strand of soft, black hair. “You know I can’t, sweetheart. Maybe next time.”

“You suck.” But she smiled as she hip bumped me.

“That I do.”

We headed toward her car and when she caught her heel on a patch of loose gravel, I caught her arm, steadying her. “You haven’t been drinking tonight?” I asked, eyes narrowing. “Right?”

Moonlight sliced over her face as she tipped her head back and let out a throaty laugh. “No.” She smacked my chest. “And what if I did? Are you going to let me spend the night?”

“I’d put your little ass in my truck and drive you back to your dorm.”

Her eyes rolled. “That sounds like a lot of fun.”

We stopped behind her sedan and I pulled her in for a quick hug. “Text me when you get back to your dorm.”

She laughed again, pulling back. “Seriously?”

I shot her a look. “You know I’m serious. It’s late. A lot of people fucking suck in the world, so text me.”

“And if I don’t?”

My eyes narrowed. “You will.”

“Okay. I will.” Steph laughed as she backed toward the driver’s door. “See you later, Cam.”

Stepping back, I watched her pull out of the parking spot before I turned and headed back. Halfway across the parking lot, I looked up toward Shortcake’s apartment. There were no lights on, and I bet she was already tucked away in her bed. Did she wear long-sleeve shirts to bed? Or did she sleep naked?

An image of her naked, her coppery hair spread out around her like a halo, invaded my head.

My cock swelled to life once again.

“Dammit,” I muttered.

It was going to be a long night.

Thursday morning was IHOP morning, or at least that was what Ollie had deemed it when he rolled out of bed and busted up into my room. Snatching my cap off the arm of the couch, I saw Steph’s rubber band on the coffee table and rolled my eyes.

Super important.

Ollie was already outside and I as approached the door, I caught the scent of rain in the air. As soon as I closed the door behind me, I realized he wasn’t alone.

“Avery,” Ollie said. “Cam told me your name.”

Mental note to self: punt kick Ollie in the balls later.

There was a pause and then, “Oh. So … um, you’re heading to—”

“Yo douchebag, you left the door open!” I smacked the cap on, rounding the stairs. Below, I got an eyeful of how Avery’s blue jeans hugged her ass. Nice. “Hey, what are you doing with my girl?”

Ollie grinned up at me, but my attention was trained on Shortcake. The girl had to be wearing little or no makeup, because her face was … fresh. Natural. I liked it. Her gaze met mine and then flickered away.

“I was explaining to her how I go by two names,” Ollie said.

“Oh yeah?” I caught up with them, dropping my arm over her shoulders. Her feet tripped up, and I tightened my arm, tucking her against my side. In the back of my head, I thought she fit perfectly. “Whoa, sweetheart, almost lost you there.”

“Look at you.” Ollie hopped down the stairs like a frog. “Got the girl tripping all over her feet.”

I laughed, keeping an arm around her as I slid the cap backward. “I can’t help it. It’s my magnetic charm.”

“Or it could be your smell.” Ollie grinned. “I’m not sure I heard a shower this morning.”

I gasped. “Do I smell bad, Avery?”

“You smell great,” she said, and then a red flush quickened across her cheeks. “I mean, you don’t smell bad.”

Instinct told me she meant something completely different. “Heading to class?”

Shortcake didn’t say anything as we walked down the stairs, but her face was pinched as if she was in deep thought about something.

“Avery?”

She squirmed away, and my eyes narrowed as she hurried off. “Yeah, I’m heading to art. What about you guys?”

Catching up with her on the third floor, I’d be damned if she got away that easily. “We’re going out to breakfast. You should skip and join us.”

She tightened her grip on her bag. “I think I’ve done enough skipping this week.”

“I’m skipping,” Ollie announced, “but Cam doesn’t have a class until this afternoon, so he’s a good boy.”

“And you’re a bad boy?” she asked.

He grinned at Shortcake, the kind of smile I’d seen him give countless girls. “Oh, I’m a bad, bad boy.”

My skin prickled as I shot Ollie a look. “Yeah, as in bad at spelling, math, English, cleaning up after yourself, talking to people, and I could go on.”

“But I’m good at the things that count,” Ollie replied.

“And what are those things?” I asked as we stepped out under clouds fat with rain. It was going to be one of those days.

Ollie faced us, walking backward. A red truck started to back up, but he kept going, forcing the truck to grind to a halt. I shook my head. He held up a tanned hand and started ticking off his fingers. “Drinking, socializing, snowboarding, and soccer—remember that sport, Cam? Soccer?”

I stared at him. “Yeah, I remember it, asshole.”

Ollie, probably having no idea what he’d just done, spun around and headed for my truck. A muscle started to tick in my jaw. I shoved my hands in my jeans as I glanced at Shortcake. “See you around, Avery.”

Leaving her, I joined Ollie by my truck. Instead of hitting the unlock button to all the doors, I only did mine and climbed in, slamming the door shut behind me.

“Hello,” came Ollie’s muffled voice.

Ignoring him, I turned on the truck. A big, fat raindrop hit the windshield, and I smiled, looking up at the sky.

“Hey!”

Slowly, I raised my hand, giving him the finger.

Ollie jumped when the sky opened up in a torrential downpour, howling like a wounded animal. Only when his hair was plastered to his skull did I unlock his door.

He climbed in, shivering. “What the fuck, man?”

“You deserved it.” I shifted into reverse, backing out. One look at Ollie’s creased forehead told me he was racking his brain for what he did. I sighed. “You really need to lay off the pot.”

“If I’ve heard that once, I’ve heard that a million times, but Mary Jane loves me, and she’s the only girl I love.”

Smoothing my hand over the baseball cap, I shook my head. “Fucking hippie.”

Ollie shook his head like a wet dog, spraying the interior with droplets of chilly water. He must’ve knocked something loose in his brain, because he fell back against the seat. “Shit, man. I wasn’t thinking.”

I coughed out a laugh as I pulled out of the parking lot, a car behind Shortcake. “That’s a huge surprise.”

Ollie stared ahead, the normal smile he wore gone. “I forget sometimes, you know? It seems like forever ago.”

Shit, I wished I could forget, especially now, as I watched Shortcake’s car hang a left, heading toward campus.

He glanced at me. “I’m sorry, man. Truly. I know how much soccer meant to you.”

I nodded absently as I turned right, heading for the bypass that would take us into Charles Town. Soccer had been my life since the moment Dad enrolled me in the local peewee league, and over years, I’d honed my skills as a striker, the middle scoring position. I was damn good, too, and it was no secret that when I registered for Shepherd and made their soccer team three years ago, I had no plans on staying here. I was biding my time before I could score a tryout with D.C. United. Soccer was how I met Jase and Ollie. Soccer had been my sanity.

But the only thing I was doing with soccer now was coaching a summer rec league program as community service. There would be no more soccer. At least for the foreseeable future, and one act of anger had ensured that.

Most people my age spent Friday night drinking and hanging out with friends. I spent my Friday night sitting in a circle—yes, a fucking circle—listening to people’s problems. Some of the guys in the group weren’t bad. Like Henry. He got drunk one night and got into a fight at a bar. He wasn’t a psychopath. Neither was Aaron, who apparently had some road-rage problems. A couple of the other guys, and that one chick with the pasty-white makeup and heavy black eyeliner, I wasn’t so sure about. They were kind of scary.

Screwed-up thing was that I wasn’t the youngest person here. Not by far.

I only had … ten more motherfucking months of this.

I could do this. Seriously. I could easily do this.

“Cameron?” Dr. Bale cleared his throat, and I wanted to punch myself in the throat. “Is there anything you would like to share tonight?”

This was the part I couldn’t do. The talking-about-me shit with a whole bunch of strangers staring at me. I looked up, and a sympathetic look crossed Henry’s face before looking away.

“No,” I said. “Not really.”

Goth chick—who apparently had a penchant for knives—threw herself back in her seat, crossing her arms covered in black ink. “He never shares anything.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from getting stabbed.

“That is true.” Dr. Bale adjusted his wire-frame glasses. “You barely contribute to the group, Cameron.”

Shrugging, I sat back and slid the baseball cap down lower. “I’m just taking it all in.”

Henry jumped in, thankfully, diverting the attention, and I floated under the radar until the end of the session, but when I got up to leave, Dr. Bale summoned me.

Great.

As everyone filed out of the room, I dropped back in the metal folding chair and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “What’s up?

Dr. Bale leaned over, picking out a folder from the plastic bin beside him. “I wanted to make sure you were getting something out of these meetings, Cameron.”

Uh. No. No, I was not. “I am.”

He eyed me as he hooked his leg over a knee as he leaned back in his chair. “You’ve barely spoken about the event.”

“There’s really nothing to say.”

“There’s a lot to say.” He smiled, pausing, and the skin around his eyes crinkled. “I know talking in front of people is hard in the beginning, but you have things in common with them.”

I stiffened. “I’m not sure I have a lot in common with them.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Sighing, I averted my gaze to the white walls. Posters lined them. Ones that spoke of talking, instead of throwing punches.

“Are you taking this seriously, Cameron?”

“Yes.” I forced my gaze not to search out the only clock in the room, behind me.

“Good. I’d hate for you to not take this wonderful opportunity and use it to benefit your life.”

I kept my expression blank.

“Do you realize how lucky you are, Cameron?” Dr. Bale asked when I said nothing. “What happened to that boy could have put you in jail for a very long time.”

“I know,” I said, meaning it. God knows I knew how lucky I was. And for the longest time I believed my ass should’ve been rotting in jail. I would’ve been if it hadn’t been for my father’s pull in the criminal courts and my otherwise spotless record. “I’m a really laid-back guy, Dr. Bale. What happened—”

“The beating you inflicted on that boy would beg to differ.” His gaze flicked down to my file. “Severe head contusions. Broken jaw, nose, and eye socket, along with several broken ribs.” He looked up, meeting my stare. That doesn’t sound like something a ‘laid-back guy’ would do, now does it?”

My stomach soured, but I didn’t look away. “I’m not proud of what I did. Looking back, I know there were plenty of other things I could’ve done.”

“But?”

But I didn’t have an “anger” or a “rage” problem. And as fucked up as it sounded, I still wasn’t sure I regretted what I had done. The fucker had been beating on my sister, and well, I had lost my shit.

And truth be told, if I had to do the situation all over again, I wasn’t sure I’d handle it any differently. You hurt my sister, you’re fucking with me. It was as simple as that.

Chapter 5

When it came to my little Shortcake, patience paid off.

At first, the trip out to Antietam National Battlefield to do our astronomy assignment had started off as painful as my weekly anger-management classes were. She sat in my truck like I lured her in there with the offer of free puppies, tugging on the sleeves of her sweater and sitting as straight as a board. Her nervousness increased as we headed down Bloody Lane, picking a spot that would give us a clear view of the sky and … cornfields.

I learned she was a bit of a history nerd, which was cool, because those brown eyes lit up when she started talking about the battlefield. And I also learned she was in one hell of a hurry to get this done and over with.

Never in my life did I doubt my ability to attract a girl like I did with Avery. She acted like spending time with me was tantamount to sitting in music appreciation class for two semesters in a row. As cocky as this sounds, I knew I could walk onto that campus and get a date with the nearest available girl. Probably even a girl who wasn’t available, but with Avery, it was like trying to hit on a nun. And not a naughty nun.

“How long do you think this will take?” she asked.

“Why?” I paused as something occurred to me. Maybe my charm wasn’t failing me. Holy shit, how had I not thought about this before? “You got a hot date tonight?”

She laughed dryly. “Uh, no.”

Part of me was happy to hear this. The other part was thoroughly confused. “You sound like that’s an insane idea. That no one would go out on a Saturday night for a date.”

Shrugging, she dropped the piece of hair she’d been messing with. “I’m not dating anyone.”

I walked on, tapping my hands off my thighs as the breeze stirred the cornstalks, causing them to rattle like dry bones. “So why the rush?” When there was no response, I glanced over my shoulder at her, grinning. “Are you worried that I’ve brought you out here for my own nefarious plans?”

Shortcake stopped, her face paling in a way that made her freckles punch out. “What?”

Whoa. I faced her, feeling the knot back in my chest and something else. Her reaction was too quick, too real. A bad taste filled my mouth. “Hey, Avery, I’m just joking. Seriously.”

She stared at me and then averted her gaze, cheeks flushing. “I know. I’m just …”

“Jumpy?”

“Yeah, that.”

I hoped—fuck, I prayed—that was all this was. Watching her fiddle with the bracelet on her left wrist, I couldn’t let the train of thought go any further. Anger over the possibility of something fucked up in the most minor way happening to her was already pricking at my skin. I was sure I was overreacting. “Come on. It’ll be dark soon.”

I started walking, heading toward the tower, waving at two students from our class. Picking a spot on the hill overlooking the dirt lane, I pulled out a flashlight before I sat down. The grass was dry and in that stretch of silence, the hum of crickets was almost as loud as my pounding heart. I had no idea why my pulse was racing, but it felt like I’d run from the truck to here instead of walking.

Looking up, I found Shortcake hovering a few feet behind me. I patted the spot. “Join me? Pretty please? I’m lonely all by myself over here.”

She sucked her lower lip in between her teeth, and the muscles in my stomach tensed. Finally, she moved forward and sat … three feet from me. My brows rose, but then … then our gazes collided, and I took a breath, but it didn’t get really far. How many freckles did she have on the bridge of her nose? Nine. No. Nine and a half. One of them was faded. Her lips were parted, like she was waiting for a kiss.

The urge to kiss her hit me hard in the gut. Was it the first time? When I wiped the crumb from her lip, I had wanted to kiss her then, to taste those soft-looking lips. Any other girl I would’ve made a move, but not Shortcake.

And that’s when the strangest damn thing happened.

I wanted to slow down. How I could slow down this nonexistent relationship was beyond me, but I don’t know. My heart was still pounding.

Avery ducked her chin, studying her notebook as she cleared her throat.

Letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, I asked, “What constellation are we supposed to be mapping?”

“Um, the Corona Borealis, I think,” she said, skimming the notes as I held the flashlight.

“Ah, the Northern Crown.”

Her brows rose. “You knew that off the top of your head?”

I laughed at her dubious expression. “I might not take notes, but I do pay attention.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I really don’t understand how anyone sees shapes in the stars.”

“Really?” I moved closer slowly and peeked over her shoulder. “The shapes are pretty obvious.”

“Not to me. I mean, it’s just a bunch of stars in the sky. You can probably see whatever you want to see.”

“Look at the Borealis.” I pointed at the map. “It’s obviously a crown.”

She laughed—a real laugh, and the knot tightened in my chest. “It does not look like a crown. It looks like an irregular half circle.”

Grinning, I shook my head. “Look. You can see it now easily. That’s a crown. Come on, see the seven stars.”

“I see the seven stars, but I also see about a hundred others peeking out.” She grabbed a pen. “I also see the cookie monster.”

I laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

As I watched her, her lips curved up in a smile as she posed her pen over the grid. It was clear she had no idea what latitude line to start at as she glanced up toward the Borealis. Finally, she connected two dots.

“You know where the name comes from?” I asked.

Shortcake shook her head, so I reached over and took the pen from her. In the process, my fingers brushed hers. A jolt zapped up my arm, and she pulled away immediately. “It represents the crown given from the god Dionysus to Ariadne,” I told her. “When she married Bacchus, he placed her crown in the heavens in honor of their marriage.”

She stared, brows furrowing. “Professor Drage didn’t teach that in class.”

“I know.”

“Then how did you know that?”

“Why don’t you know that?”

She tipped her head to the side, lips pursed.

“Okay. Maybe most people wouldn’t know that off the top of their head.” I twirled her pen. “I actually took part of this class as a freshman, but had to drop it.”

Curiosity filled her brown eyes. “Really?”

I nodded.

“You’re, what, a junior?”

“Yep.” I paused, unsure of how much I should say. “I ended up having to take a year off, which put me behind.”

She was quiet for a few moments “Why did you retake astronomy? Is it a part of your major?”

“No. I just like the class and Professor Drage.” I turned off the flashlight “I’m studying recreation and sport. Would like to get into sport rehabilitation.”

“Oh. Did you …”

When she didn’t finish her sentence, I looked over and followed her gaze. On the bench, the two from our astronomy class looked like they were about to practice making babies right then and there.

“Now that is an interesting form of stargazing,” I said.

She watched them for a couple of more moments, her eyes wide like she was trying to figure out exactly what they were doing. Which was obvious. There was a lot of tongue involved.

I poked her with my pen.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just that …” I had no idea how to say this. “You’re watching them like … you’ve never seen a couple do that before.”

“I am?”

I nodded. “So unless you were raised in a convent, I imagined you’ve been in a lap a time or two, right?”

“No, I haven’t!” She cringed, focusing over the cornstalks. “I mean, I haven’t been in a guy’s lap.”

A grin teased at my lips. “What about a girl’s lap?”

Her mouth dropped open. “What? No!”

I smiled broadly, picturing her in a girl’s lap and that wasn’t a bad image. Made even better when I pictured her in my lap, though. “I was joking, Avery.”

Her chin jutted out stubbornly. “I know, it’s just that …”

“What?” I poked her arm with the pen again. “You what?”

“I’ve never been in a relationship.”

Never? Never as in ever? No way.

Clutching her notebook, she glanced at me. “What? It’s not a big deal.”

I opened my mouth, said nothing. I blinked and then shook my head as I tipped my head back, staring at the sky. “You’ve never been in a relationship?”

“No.”

“Nothing?”

“That’s what no means.”

I had no idea what to say. “How old are you?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m nineteen.”

“And you haven’t been in a single relationship?”

“No. My parents … they were strict.” She swallowed. “I mean, really strict.”

“I can tell.” I tapped the pen on the notebook, beyond curious, like obsessively curious as to how someone as pretty as Avery made it this far without ever being in a relationship “So have you gone on a date or anything?”

A deep sigh emanated from her. “I thought we were supposed to be mapping stars?”

“We are.”

“No, we’re not. All I have is a scribbly line and you have nothing.”

“That scribbly line is between the Delta and Gamma.” I leaned over, connecting the dots. “Here is the Theta and this is the Alpha—brightest star. See, we are halfway done.”

She frowned, slowly shaking her head as she turned her gaze to the sky. While she was distracted, because I was done with the astronomy shit, I leaned in further, my shoulder pressing into hers as I finished the map, completing our homework assignment.

I turned my head. “Now we’re done mapping stars …” Our faces were inches apart, and I heard the soft inhale of breath. She didn’t move away, and my smile went up a notch. “See? That wasn’t hard.”

Avery’s gaze dropped, and I knew she wasn’t paying a damn bit of attention to what was coming out of my mouth even though she was staring at it. Not that I was complaining. She could stare at my mouth all she wanted.

Those thick lashes swept up and our gazes locked once more. A sudden, tangible pull spread out between us. Neither of us moved, and I wanted to. I wanted to pull her into my arms. Where the whole slowing down things went to I had no idea. She moved, visibly uncomfortable, and the good, decent part of me said to look away, to crack a joke and make her feel better, but I couldn’t resist the lure of her eyes. In the darkness, they were like black pools.

I forced myself to say something. “You think you learned anything about the stars?”

There was no response, which was probably a good thing, because that was lame. So I went to what I really wanted to know. “Have you ever been on a date?”

Still no response.

My lips curved up. “Are you listening to me?”

Shortcake blinked like she was coming out of a daze. “Huh? Yes! Yes. Totally.”

There was no mistaking she was feeling what I was feeling. Not when she had stared at me that long. “Yeah … so, you haven’t been on a date?”

“What?”

I chuckled. “You really haven’t been listening to me at all. You’ve been too busy staring at me.”

“I have not!”

“Yes, you were.” I nudged her shoulder.

The expression she made was like she tasted something bad. “You are so beyond the acceptable level of arrogance.”

“Arrogant? I’m just stating the truth.” I tossed my notebook aside and leaned back on my arms, watching her. I couldn’t resist teasing her. It was like finding a new hobby. “There’s nothing wrong with staring at me. I like it.”

She gaped at me. “I wasn’t staring at you. Not really. I sort of … dazed out. That’s how thrilling talking to you is.”

“Everything about me is thrilling.”

“About as thrilling as watching your tortoise cross a road.”

“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

“Keep calling me sweetheart and you’re going to be limping.”

Ah, I liked that. “Oh, listen to you.”

“Whatever.”

“We should do it.”

Her lips puckered. “Do what? Go home? I’m all about going home, like right now.”

I smiled. “Go on a date.”

Chapter 6

Shortcake stared at me like I’d just suggested that we strip naked and run through the cornstalks. She snapped her notebook closed and grabbed her bag. “I’m not sure I’m following this conversation.”

“It’s really not that complicated.” I laughed at her hateful look. “We should go out on a date.”

She stared at me a moment and then shoved her notebook into the bag with lethal force. “I don’t understand.”

Why wasn’t I surprised that she didn’t understand? Lying back, I stretched my arms above my head, feeling the bones pop. I watched her gaze sweep down the length of me, getting hung up on the skin exposed between my shirt and belt.

My smile spread. “Typically going on a date is when two people go out for the evening or sometimes during the day. Really, it can be any time of the day or night. It usually involves dinner. Sometimes a movie or a walk in the park. Though, I don’t do walks in the park. Maybe on a beach, but since there aren’t any—”

“I know what a date is.” She jumped to her feet, eyes like chips of black ice in the darkness.

“You said you didn’t understand. So I’m explaining what a date means.”

Her lips twitched as she crossed her arms. “That’s not the part I don’t understand and you know that.”

“I was just making sure we were on the same page.”

“We’re not.”

Grinning shamelessly, I lowered my arms, but didn’t tug down my shirt. “So now that we both know what a date entails, we should go out on one.”

“Uh …”

I laughed as I sat up. The confusion on her face was adorable in a weird way. “That’s not really a response, Avery.”

“I …” Shaking her head, she took a step back. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

Where in the hell did Shortcake get that idea? “A girlfriend? No.”

“Then who was that brunette stumbling out of your apartment Wednesday night?” she demanded.

As her words sunk in, I smiled from ear to fucking ear. “Have you been watching me, Avery?”

“No. No!” Her face blanched. “What? I wasn’t watching you. I do have a life.”

I arched a brow. “Then how do you know about Stephanie?”

Shortcake shifted her weight. “That’s her name?”

“Well, yes, she has a name and no, she’s not my girlfriend. And she wasn’t stumbling. Maybe shuffling.”

She rolled her eyes.

“So how did you see her if you weren’t watching me?” I crossed my ankles. “And I don’t mind the idea of you watching me. Remember, I like that.”

Her chest rose in a deep breath, and I could tell her patience was running thin. “I wasn’t watching you. I couldn’t sleep and I was staring out my living-room window. I just happened to see you walking her out to her car.”

I didn’t believe her. Hell to the no. Who just happens to be staring out the window at that time of night? As much as I’d love to tease her, it looked like she was about to punt kick my head, but I was a gambling sort of man. “Well, that makes sense. Not nearly as entertaining as you standing by your window hoping to catch a glimpse of me.”

She stared at me.

I winked. “Steph’s not my girlfriend by the way. We aren’t like that.”

Her hand went to the bracelet on her left wrist. “I’m not like that.”

“Like what?”

Turning her stare to the many stars, she raised her hands. “I’m not like her.”

“Do you know her?”

“I don’t just hook up with guys for fun, okay? I don’t see anything wrong with it. Totally not judging here, but that’s not me. So I’m not interested. Sorry.”

“Wait a sec. I’m confused. You’re not judging her, but you’ve made the assumption that she’s into random hookups? That she’s my fuck buddy? Isn’t that kind of making a rash judgment based on assumptions?”

Her forehead wrinkled. “You’re right. I don’t know if that’s what you guys are about. Maybe you’re just childhood buddies or something.”

“We’re not.” I grinned. “We hook up every once in a while.”

Shortcake’s jaw hit the ground. “I was right! Then why did you accuse me of being judgmental?”

“I was just pointing it out.” I couldn’t stop teasing her. The array of emotions that crossed her face was fascinating to me. “And for the record, we didn’t hook up Wednesday night. Not for the lack of trying on her part, but I wasn’t feeling it.”

“Whatever. This is a stupid conversation.”

“I like this conversation.”

She reached for the bag, but I was faster, grabbing her bag as I stood. A deep, annoyed sigh radiated from her. “Give it to me.”

Ducking my chin, I said, “I’m trying to.” I laid the strap over her shoulder, brushing the side of her neck with my fingers. It wasn’t on purpose that time and when she jumped, so did my heart. Backing away, I picked up the flashlight. “See? I was just being a gentleman.”

“I don’t think you’re a gentleman, but thank you.”

Her words were an odd mix of sincerity and frustration, and she didn’t say anything else as we started back with only the narrow swath of light from the flashlight.

“This place is kind of creepy at night, don’t you think?”

She nodded as she looked over at the dark, looming shadows of the monuments. “Well, I guess, if there’s going to be any place in the world haunted, it would be a place like this.”

“You believe in ghosts?”

Shortcake shrugged. “I don’t know. Never seen one.”

“Me neither.”

One side of her lips curved up. “That’s a good thing I suppose.”

I stopped at the passenger side of the truck. “Milady.”

“Thank you.”

Since there was a little less frustration in her voice, I decided to test my luck. I leaned against the open door, watching the interior light caress the edges of her face. “So, what about it?”

“What about what?”

I tilted my head to the side. “Go out on a date with me.”

She stiffened. “Why?”

“Why not?”

“That’s not an answer.” She grabbed the seatbelt, whipping it around her.

“What kind of question was that? How am I—hey, it’s just a seat belt. Not that hard.” I leaned over, taking the belt from her. As our hands brushed, she plastered herself against the seat. It was such a strange reaction that the tiny hairs on the back of my neck rose as I lifted my gaze. “Why shouldn’t we go out on a date?”

Her hands balled into fists in her lap. I wanted to let go of the damn seat belt, take her hands in mine, and ease them out of the tight ball. “Because … because we don’t know each other.”

I smiled slightly as I moved my gaze up, centering on her mouth. “That’s what a date is all about. Getting to know each other. Go out on a date with me.”

“There’s nothing to know about me,” she whispered.

“I’m sure there is tons to know about you.”

“There’s not.”

I leaned closer, inhaling her sweet scent. “Then we can spend the time with me talking.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“Oh, it will be more thrilling than watching Raphael cross a road.”

“Ha.” Amusement flashed in her dark eyes.

“Thought you’d like that.”

Her gaze flickered to where her bag rested against her legs and then back to mine. “Can we go yet?”

“Can we go on a date?”

A sound of frustration came from her. “Good God, you don’t give up.”

“Nope.”

Shortcake laughed, and I couldn’t stop the smile from forming on my lips. I liked the sound of her laugh, when she really laughed. “I’m sure there are plenty of girls who want to go out on a date with you.”

“There are.”

“Wow. Modest aren’t you?”

“Why should I be? And I want to go out on a date with you. Not them.”

She shook her head slightly. “I don’t understand why.”

And I didn’t understand why she didn’t get it. “I can think of a few reasons. You’re not like most girls.” True. “That interests me.” And it really did. “You’re awkward in this really … adorable way. You’re smart. Want me to list more?”

“No. Not at all,” she replied. “I don’t want to go out on a date with you.”

I didn’t believe it. Call it intuition, experience, or plain old cockiness, I didn’t believe her at all. “I figured you’d say that.”

“Then why did you ask?”

I leaned back, grabbing the side of the door. “Because I wanted to.”

“Oh. Well. Okay. Glad you got it out of your system.”

What did she think this was? Hell, I didn’t even know what this was. “I haven’t gotten it out of my system.”

Her shoulders slumped. “You haven’t?”

“Nope.” I smiled. “There’s always tomorrow.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“I’ll ask you again.”

She shook her head. “The answer will be the same.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” I tapped the tip of her nose, grinning as she narrowed her eyes at me. “And maybe you’ll say yes. I’m a patient guy, and hey, like you said, I don’t give up easily.”

“Great,” she muttered, but there was a glimmer in her eyes, the same sheen that had been there when she was checking me out.

“Knew you’d see it that way.” I tweaked the tip of her nose, and she smacked my hand away. “Don’t worry. I know the truth.”

“The truth about what?”

I moved back in case she swung again. “You want to say yes, but you’re just not ready.”

Shortcake looked like she actually did see a ghost.

“It’s okay. I’m a lot to handle, but I can assure you, you’ll have fun handling me.” Before she could respond, I tapped her nose and then closed the door, grinning to myself as I loped around the front of the truck.

I watched Avery head into her apartment. She stopped halfway in, tucked the glossy copper strands behind her ear as she peeked over her shoulder at me.

A small, shy smile pulled at her lips as she waved good-bye and then slipped inside, quietly closing the door behind her.

Standing there a few more moments, like a creeper, I finally turned toward my door. As I reached for the knob, the door swung open.

Jase appeared, blocking the door. A curious look crossed his expression. “What are you doing standing in the hallway of your apartment building like a loser?”

“What are you doing in my apartment like a freak?”

He shrugged. “I was hanging out with Ollie, but he ran to Sheetz to get some nachos.”

“Ah, a nachos night.” Which meant Ollie would be up all night. I shifted my weight. “Are you going to let me in?”

“Well, since it is your place.” He cocked his head to the side, casting half of his swarthy face into a shadow. “I guess so.”

Jase stepped aside, allowing me to squeeze past him. I went straight to the fridge, grabbed a beer and then dropped onto the couch. “You’re not at the farm?”

He shook his head as he joined me, picking up a bottle from the coffee table. “No. Jack is with the grandparents.”

“Ah …” That explained it. Jase was usually at his family farm on the weekends.

Jase glanced at me. “Sooo, you were out with the redhead?”

“Shortcake?”

His dark brows slipped out of the wave of hair and knitted. “Huh?”

“Avery’s the redhead. And no. We were doing an astronomy assignment. We’re partners.”

“Oh.” He took a swig of his beer and made a face. “Sooo,” he said again, and I rolled my eyes. “Why were you staring at her apartment door?”

“How do you know?”

“I watched you through the peephole.”

“Nice.” I laughed, taking a drink. A couple of minutes passed and then I said, “I asked her out.”

Jase didn’t look that interested. “Okay.”

“She turned me down.”

His head swung toward me, his dove-gray eyes sparkling with interest. “What?”

“Yep.” I fell back into the couch, grinning. “Turned me down flat.”

Leaning onto the arm of the couch, Jase laughed so hard I think he hurt his stomach. “I like this girl.”

“So do I,” I said, sighing. “So do I.”

Chapter 7

Fresh banana-nut bread cooled on the counter, filling the apartment with its savory scent.

I glanced at the clock on the stove. Five till eight.

Shoving my hands through my damp hair, I gave up on the idea of actually sleeping. In the living room, Ollie was passed out on the floor snoring, and the last time I’d checked my bedroom, Jase was sprawled across the foot of my bed. And there was no way in hell any part of my skin or clothes were touching any part of Ollie’s bed.

It wasn’t so much that Jase and Ollie had kept me awake. At any point during the never-ending night, I could’ve locked myself in my bedroom, but my mind wouldn’t shut down. Some of it had to do with the meeting on Friday and how Dr. Bale had laid everything out. I couldn’t stop thinking about how Jase was going to make things work, because after Ollie had passed out and Jase was more drunk than an entire frat, he started talking, and well, I didn’t know how to help him.

And I couldn’t stop thinking about the girl a few doors down.

Shortcake had turned me down.

I grinned, thinking of how I was going to turn that no into a yes.

Pivoting around, I reached for the fridge and came to a stop. Was that it? The challenge? From the moment I met Avery, she was running from me, and females ran toward me.

But what I said to her last night about why I wanted to go out on a date was true. Avery did interest me. She wasn’t like the girls I hung out with—the well put together, coy and flirtatious ones. Not that anything was wrong with them, but Avery was different. She made me laugh. Maybe not on purpose, but I loved watching her flush over the simplest things, and when she smiled?

Shortcake shone brighter than any chick I knew.

Perhaps it was all that, combined with the challenge. I really didn’t know, and at that moment, as I opened the fridge and grabbed some eggs, I really didn’t care.

I liked her.

And I wasn’t sleeping anytime soon, so why should the object of my current restlessness be sleeping in on a Sunday morning?

The moment the idea sprung to mind, I didn’t even think twice. Shortcake probably wasn’t going to be happy with the plan, but no one—not even her—could resist my banana-nut bread.

Gathering up my items, I strolled toward the front door. There, I heard Ollie mumble, “No tomatoes. Extra bacon.”

“What the?” I looked over my shoulder at him. He was still on his stomach, his check plastered to a throw pillow my mom had given me, dead to the world. “Freak,” I muttered, slipping out of the apartment.

At Avery’s door, I knocked softly at first, not wanting to wake the neighbors, but when a full minute passed and I hadn’t heard footsteps, I knocked hard and kept knocking.

After what felt like an eternity of me banging on her door like the police and turning around to make sure I didn’t have anyone seconds away from shooting my ass, I finally heard footsteps and then the door swung open.

“Is everything okay?” she asked in what was possibly the sexiest voice I’d ever heard.

I spun back to the door, getting an eyeful of a bedraggled Avery.

Coppery hair hung in loose tangles, flowing down her shoulders and grazing the golden skin of her arms. I didn’t think I’d ever seen her in a short-sleeve shirt before. My gaze, all on its own, traveled sideways and stopped, devouring the way the thin shirt she wore stretched across the swell of her breasts. With a will I didn’t know I possessed, I forced my eyes to her flushed face.

Suddenly unsure of what the hell I was doing, I offered a crooked smile and said to hell with it. “No, but it will be in about fifteen minutes.”

“W-w-what?” She moved out of the way as I slipped past her. All the apartments were the same, so I knew where the kitchen was, but I did a quick scan of the living room. The furnishings looked new—the couch and dark end tables. A black moon chair sat beside a TV. No pictures hung on the walls. The moon chair was possibly the most personal thing in the room.

“Cam, what are you doing? It’s eight in the morning.”

“Thanks for the update on the time. It’s one thing I’ve never been able to master: the telling of time.”

She trailed after me, and I could feel her staring daggers in my back. “Why are you here?”

“Making breakfast.”

“You can’t do that in your own kitchen?”

“My kitchen isn’t as exciting as yours.” I placed the eggs and bread on the counter and faced her. Scrubbing her eyes, she looked so damn cute, and I wished I was wearing something more decent than sweats and a shirt I wasn’t even sure was clean. “And Ollie is passed out on the living-room floor.”

“On the floor?”

“Yep. Facedown, snoring and drooling a little. It’s not an appetizing atmosphere.”

Her lips twitched into a quick smile and then quickly disappeared. “Well, neither is my apartment.”

I folded my arms as I leaned against the counter. “Oh, I don’t know about that …” I let my gaze wander the exquisite length of hers. Her nipples were hard, pressing against her shirt, begging to be touched, licked, and kissed and God knows what else I would do to them. Lust slammed into my gut and I almost took a step toward her. “Your kitchen, right this second, is very appetizing.”

She flushed. “I’m not going out with you, Cam.”

“I didn’t ask you at this moment, now did I?” I grinned. “But you will eventually.”

“You’re delusional.”

“I’m determined.”

“More like annoying,” she retorted, brown eyes twinkling.

“Most would say amazing.”

She rolled her eyes. “Only in your head.”

“In many heads is what you meant.” I turned to the stove. “I also brought banana-nut bread baked in my very own oven.”

There was a pause. “I’m allergic to bananas.”

I wheeled around. “Are you shitting me?”

“No. I’m not. I’m allergic to bananas.”

“Man, that’s a damn shame. You have no idea what you’re missing out on. Bananas make the world a better place.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Well damn. Apparently she could resist my banana-nut bread. “Anything else you’re allergic to?”

“Besides penicillin and guys who bust up into my apartment? No.”

“Hardy-har-har.” I turned and bent, opening the nearest cabinets. “How many weaker, less-assured guys have you slayed with that tongue of yours?”

“Apparently not enough.” Her gasp was audible. “I’ll be right back.”

I had no idea what she was up to, but I doubted she’d leave the apartment. Humming under my breath, I found a pot to boil eggs in and filled it with water. Plopping it on the stove, I cranked up the heat. I could hear her back in her bedroom, her soft footfalls, heavier than I thought they’d be. A couple of moments went by and I turned to the doorway. It was quite possible that she would lock herself in her room.

Dammit.

“Hey! Are you hiding back there?” I yelled. “Because I will come back there and drag you out.”

“Don’t you dare come in here!” she shouted.

I laughed softly. As appealing as seeing firsthand what she was doing was, I didn’t want to end up in the hospital for doing so. “Then hurry up. My eggs wait for no one.”

By the time she returned, I found shredded cheese and had decided she was going to eat hers sunny side up. I didn’t say anything even though I knew she was there, staring at me.

“Cam, why are you over here?” she finally asked.

“I already told you.” I eased the eggs onto a plate and walked it over to the small table pressed up against the wall. “Do you want toast? Wait. Do you have bread? If not, I can—”

“No. I don’t need toast.” She watched me, eyes wide. “Don’t you have anyone else to bother?”

“There are a shit ton of people that I could reward with my presence, but I chose you.”

Her mouth moved, but there was no sound and then she spun around, hopping up on the chair, pulling her knees to her chest as she picked up a fork. “Thanks,” she muttered.

I raised my brows. “I choose to believe that you mean that.”

“I do!”

I turned back to the stove. “I doubt that for some reason.”

There were several seconds of silence and then. “I do appreciate the eggs. I’m just surprised to see you here … at eight in the morning.”

Waiting for my eggs to finish boiling, I found myself watching her. “Well, to be honest, I was planning to woo you with my banana-nut bread, but that shit ain’t happening now. So all I have left are my delicious eggs.”

“It is really good, but you’re not wooing me.”

“Oh, I’m wooing.” I went to her fridge and found some OJ. Grabbing two glasses, I poured some sweetness and sat one in front of her. “It’s just all about the stealth. You don’t realize it yet.”

She ducked her gaze to her plate. “Aren’t you eating?”

“I am. I like boiled eggs.” Sitting across from her, I rested my chin in my palm. Her hair fell forward, nearing hitting the plate. She kept batting the strands away. She was so fucking cute. “So, Avery Morgansten, I’m all yours.”

Her lashes swept up. “I don’t want you.”

“Too bad. Tell me about yourself.”

Shortcake pressed her lips into a thin line. “Do you do this often? Just walk into random girls’ apartments and make eggs?”

“Well, you’re not random, so technically no.” Pushing up, I checked the eggs. “And I might be known to surprise lucky ladies every now and then.”

Which wasn’t exactly true. I mean, if I somehow found myself in someone else’s place and I was up, I’d make breakfast, but this? This was a first. But she didn’t need to know that.

“Seriously? I mean, you do this normally?”

I glanced over my shoulder. “With friends, yes, and we’re friends, aren’t we, Avery?”

She studied me for a few moments and then placed her fork down. “Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Finally!” I shouted. “You’ve finally admitted that we are friends. It’s only taken a week.”

“We’ve only known each other for a week.”

“Still took a week.”

As I started devouring my eggs, she questioned me on how long it took for me to declare best-friend status. Sitting back at the table, I met her curious stare. “It usually takes me about five minutes before we’ve moved on to best-friend status.”

A tiny smile appeared on her lips. “Then I guess I’m just the odd one.”

“Maybe.”

“I guess it’s different for you.”

“Hmm?” I peeled the last piece of shell off the egg.

“I bet you have girls hanging all over you. Dozens would probably kill to be in my spot and here I am, allergic to your bread.”

I looked up. “Why? Because of my near godlike perfection?”

She laughed outright, and that goddamn knot was back in my chest. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Shrugging, I chuckled. “I don’t know. Don’t really think about it.”

“You don’t think about it at all?”

“Nope.” I popped the egg in my mouth and then wiped my hands on a napkin. “I only think about it when it matters.”

Her gaze bounced off of mine as she toyed with her glass. “So you’re a reformed player?”

“What makes you think that?”

“I heard you were quite the player in high school.”

“Really? Who did you hear that from?”

“None of your business.”

I took a deep breath. Her tongue was sharp as a blade. “With that mouth of yours, you don’t have a lot of friends, do you?”

Shortcake flinched. “No. I wasn’t really popular in high school.”

Aw fuck, now I felt like a dick. I dropped my egg onto the plate. “Shit. I’m sorry. That was an asshole thing for me to say.”

She shook her head.

I watched her as I picked up the egg and peeled it, unable to figure her out. “Hard to believe though that you weren’t. You can be funny and nice when you’re not insulting me and you’re a pretty girl. Actually, you’re really hot.”

“Ah … thanks.” She wiggled in her seat.

“I’m serious. You said your parents were strict. They didn’t let you hang out in high school?” I popped the other egg in. Needed my protein. “I still can’t imagine you not being popular in high school. You rock the trifecta—smart, funny, and hot.”

“I wasn’t. Okay?” Sitting the glass down, she started fiddling with the hem on her shorts. “I was like the very opposite of popular.”

Unsure of what to think about that comment, I peeled the third egg. I’d seen her around campus with a girl I went to high school with and Jacob Massey. It wasn’t like she was incapable of making friends. “I am sorry, Avery. That … that sucks. High school is a big deal.”

“Yeah, it is. You had a lot of friends?”

I nodded. I had a busload of friends.

“Still talk to them?”

“Some of them. Ollie and I went to high school together, but he spent his first two years at WVU and transferred down here and I see a few around campus and back home.”

She huddled in on herself, looking incredibly small. “Have any brothers or sisters?”

“A sister.” I went for the final egg, smiling. “She’s younger than me. Just turned eighteen. She graduates this year.”

“You guys close?”

“Yeah, we’re close.” I liked that she was asking me questions, but talking about my sister made me think of other things. “She means a lot to me. How about you? A big brother I have to worry about visiting and kicking my ass for being here?”

One side of her lips curved up. “No. I’m an only child. Have a cousin who’s older, but I doubt he’d do that.”

“Ah, good.” I finished off the last egg, leaned back and patted my stomach. “Where you from?” When she didn’t answer, I decided I was so not letting this go. I wanted to know her. Exchange of information was necessary. “Okay. You obviously know where I’m from if you’ve heard of my extracurricular activities in high school, but I’ll just confirm it. I’m from the Fort Hill area. Never heard of that? Well, most people haven’t. It’s near Morgantown. Why didn’t I go to WVU? Everyone wants to know that. Just wanted to get away, but be somewhat close to my family. And yes, I was … very busy in high school.”

“You’re not anymore?”

“Depends on who you ask.” I laughed. “Yeah, I don’t know. When I was a freshman—those first couple of months, being around all the older girls? I probably put more effort into them than I did my classes.”

She grinned. “But not now?”

I shook my head and went back to what I wanted to know. “So where are you from?”

Shortcake sighed. “I’m from Texas.”

“Texas?” I leaned onto the table. “Really? You don’t have an accent.”

“I wasn’t born in Texas. My family was originally from Ohio. We moved to Texas when I was eleven and I never picked up any accent.”

“Texas to West Virginia? That’s a hell of a difference.”

Her eyes met mine for a fraction of a second and then she stood, picking up her plate and the bowl. “Well, I lived in the strip-mall-hell part of Texas, but besides that, it’s kind of the same here.”

“I should clean up.” I started to stand. “I made the mess.”

“No.” She shot me a serious look. “You cooked. I clean.”

Watching her take care of the dishes, I couldn’t help but think how intimate this was—me cooking, her cleaning. While I may have cooked some breakfasts for girls before, it had been nothing like this.

And I really wasn’t sure how to process that.

Turning to the bread, I peeled the foil back. “What made you choose here?”

She finished washing the little frying pan I’d brought over before answering the question. “I just wanted to get away, like you.”

“Got to be hard though.”

“No. It was incredibly easy to make the decision.”

It was? I couldn’t imagine moving that far away from my family. I was pretty sure my mom would hunt me down if I did. I broke the bread in half. “You are an enigma, Avery Morgansten.”

She leaned against the counter. “Not really. More like you are.”

“How so?”

She gestured at me and my half-eaten loaf of bread. “You just ate four hard-boiled eggs, you’re eating half of a loaf, and you have abs that look like they belong on a Bowflex ad.”

My smile was the size of an earthquake crater. “You’ve been checking me out, haven’t you? In between your flaming insults? I feel like man candy.”

She laughed, and the sound was soft and sweet. “Shut up.”

“I’m a growing boy.”

Her brows rose at that, and I laughed. In the following silence, I found myself telling her more than I told most girls I’d known for years. “My dad is a lawyer, runs his own firm back home. So he probably wanted me to go to law school.”

She stayed by the counter. “Why didn’t you?”

“Law is not my thing. Mom’s a doctor—cardiologist—and before you ask, med school also wasn’t my thing.”

Her right hand went to that bracelet, a nervous habit I was beginning to realize. “And sports recreation is your thing?”

“Soccer is my thing. So if I can get on with a team, helping their players, then I’m happy.” I paused, shifting my weight. “Or I’d love to coach, maybe high school or whatever.”

Her gaze dipped to the floor as she crept forward. She reminded me of a scared animal that had been hurt before and was distrustful of those around her. The knot expanded in my chest and the horrible pricking sensation was back, telling me something I didn’t want to hear.

“Why don’t you play soccer?” she asked.

And that was a subject I didn’t want to touch, but she was asking questions and there was no way I could shoot her down. “It’s a long … complicated story, but it’s not something I can do right now.”

She was by the table, hovering near the chair. “What about later?”

“Later … later might work.” And that was true. If I kept in shape, kept up with the game, who knew? It just wasn’t something I allowed myself to think about a lot. “So you flying back to Texas for fall break or Thanksgiving?”

She snorted. “Probably not.”

“Got other plans?”

Avery shrugged and then started asking me about soccer. Hours had passed and I was sure she was as knowledgeable about soccer as she ever would be. It was near noon when I stood. I didn’t really want to leave, but I had sucked up all her morning.

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