Emily Rayard
About You
InstaLove College Romance (Ravenwood University)
Copyright
© 2023
by Emily Rayard
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
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.
Emily Rayard asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
Emily Rayard has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.
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First edition
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To those who need a short adult bed time story.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue About the Author
Contents
Chapter 1
Ihave always been the good girl, the reliable one. Even in high school, under my senior photo, I was voted Most Likely to Succeed. Right now, I feel like I’ m Most Likely to Crumble Under the Weight of the Fall Semester of my Junior Year at Ravenwood.
It is the beginning of the semester. New England’ s suffering from a heat wave and I’ ve packed my calendar with other obligations on top of my school work. The Ravenwood Paper, the food drive with the honor society, and volunteering as the designated driver for at least two of the parties for Stewart’ s frat, Kappa Sigma.
I’ m staring at the twenty-two unread emails sitting in my inbox that appeared in the last four hours. Another one pops up, adding to the number. My running to-do list on my desktop is at least six inches long.
My mind drifts from the noise. I feel like I’ m forgetting something. I rub my sun tattoo on the side of my wrist. That annoying nagging feeling that never seems to go away when I’ m right in the middle of the busiest time of my life.
“Summer! Summer!” my mom nearly shouts in my earbuds, the sudden volume jarring me from my thoughts.
“Mom!” I snap, and I immediately feel guilty. “I don’t know if he can come this Christmas break. Stewart said he has to go to his dad’ s this year. ” “Are you sure, honey? I have a table reserved for Nomas Restaurant. Really try to convince him, everyone else is dying to meet him. It’ s about time we should start getting to know each other.”
I let out a frustrated sigh as I roll my neck to release the tension that took up residence when I started in Ravenwood. I’ m trying to maintain my near-
perfect GPA. Trying to complete a double major, because my mother believes that a business degree is going to be far more valuable than my journalism one.
Internships are competitive and I can ’t risk anything less. Ravenwood has exclusivity in many companies, including The Sport Weekly, my dream internship.
I’ m in one of the reserved study rooms at the library. I was supposed to be at the Ravenwood Paper meet & greet with the freshman. Today, I was being a coward, hiding mostly from my peers who needed something from me. The price I pay to be the best, the price I pay for my dream as a sports writer.
A ping hits my phone.
Stewart: Have fun at the meet & greet. Got a meeting. So I can ’t go to dinner.
My lips thin and I half listen to my mother as I realize this is the second time he’ s bailed this week.
The door opens. I glance at my best friend, Zoe Rivers, who is already frowning at me.
Her rich, dark hair is in a high ponytail and her massive headphones are around her neck. I eye the two large iced coffee cups in her hand. At a glance, we are often mistaken as sisters. Only she has beautiful tanned skin and I’ m paler with amber-brown eyes.
“Summer ” my mother whines.
“Z is here, I gotta go. ” I hang up, chucking my phone on the desk.
“I always know when your mom calls you become infinitely bitchier,” Z says as she sets her books on the table, placing the cup in front of me.
Smoothing my skirt, I rest my head on the desk. “It’ s another idiotic conversation.”
Z rolls her eyes. “About Stewart and planning your future?”
“Of course. ”
“I think he sucks,” Z says, crossing her arms. “And I still don’t know why your mom is so into him.”
My head hurts, so I rub my temples. Ever since I told my mother about Stewart, she’ s been like a dog with a bone. Being a housewife with an empty nest, she fills her time stalking me and my siblings’ love lives.
“Because apparently he’ s the whole package? Good family, a legacy here, good prospects, and handsome?” I imitate my mother’ s words.
“Jesus, why doesn’t she marry him then?” Z asks as she settles opposite of me, pulling out her laptop.
“I’ m sure she would if she were me. ”
“You need to tell her to stop living vicariously through you. ”
Shrugging, I glance at Stewart’ s text again.
Stewart became my boyfriend my sophomore year. I had turned him down after our first date when I was a freshman but he still persisted for the whole year. The chemistry wasn ’t there at first. Of course, somehow I had let my mother into my head and gave him another shot.
After one date turned into many, I realized I felt safe. He wasn ’t pushy; in fact, he was kind and sweet. In the end, I imagined some sort of future with him. It was easy, he made me laugh. Mom believes it has a good foundation. Like she is comparing relationships to fixer-uppers.
“Mom wants to meet him during winter break,” I explain.
“Why can ’t he?” Z drawls. It was a fight I wasn ’t willing to start with her again. Z has no problems making it known that she isn’t a Stewart fan, but despite all of this, she sticks by me.
“He has to go to his dad’ s. ”
“He has an excuse for everything, huh?” Z quips. I sour at her comment. Z’ s smirk immediately drops. “Sorry, I’ m a little on edge lately.”
The tension in my head and neck returns. “I mean, he has a lot to do.”
“So do you, but you always try to schedule something with him. I mean what happened over summer? You saw him for a total of two weeks?! He didn’t have his frat obligations, then.”
She’ s right. Something is off with him lately. My fingers press back on my temples. I can ’t think about that right now. There’ s too much to do.
“I’ll talk to him,” I decide.
“When?” Z and I stare out the glass wall from our study room. The library’ s busy with fall semester in force. Books piled on the tables. All the outlets are being hoarded by groups of people.
“After this,” I say, reaching for the iced coffee and taking a deep drink of my vanilla latte. It’ s one of the few things that soothes my mind. The sweet, creamy drink is my favorite all year round and I can ’t wait until fall weather arrives and I order it hot.
As I let the cool drink wash away the tension in my neck and head, I look back out of the library, as I scan the shelves from my chair and disassociate for a moment.
“Where should we start? I swear, Mr. Firth is determined to flunk me. ” Z pulls my attention back and I shake my head.
Z and I glance at the instructions for the paper. With each word we read, the more our collective misery increases.
“Seriously, this lit assignment is going to kill me, ” I groan.
Z doesn’t respond with her usual snarky quips.
“I’ m going to forget about sleep for a while,” I continue to complain.
“Uh, Summer,” Z whispers, even though we are in a soundproof room.
“Like, why would he think it would be cool to spring this on us with a week to do it?”
“Summer!” Z snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Oh my god, look!”
My head snaps up and there he is, Stewart Pratt. His coiffed blond hair that has a cowlick in the back that he hates. He smiles at a pretty blond girl and tucks an errant hair behind her ear. I see his classically handsome face as he grins at her. His hand finds the small of her back leading her toward the entrance.
“What the fuck?” Z stands looking at me, her brown eyes wide. Numbness starts in my chest and moves through my limbs. Stewart is no longer standing there, but I still can see him. Not in a meeting like he said he was.
However long I sat there, I can ’t tell until Z gently takes my hand.
“Summer?” she calls, trying to coax me out of my shock. “Are you okay?”
Jolting up, I nearly topple my vanilla latte all over my laptop.
“Give me a second, Z.” Stalking out the door, I turn in the direction I saw them walking.
“Summer!” Z hisses. She hooks her arm through mine, trying to ground me.
“Wait. Wait!” she frantically whispers, moving in front of me as I spot their backs heading toward the front entrance of the library. My mind is spinning like an out-of-control centrifuge.
“That fuckin’ ass ” I growl.
“Shut up. Calwood is going to have our heads if we ’ re loud and cussing,” Z scolds.
The rush of feelings is like a broken dam. My stomach twists, my body heats, and all I want to do is destroy something.
“I need you to slow down,” Z whispers, corralling back toward the study room. I start to shove my things in my bag. “I’ m ending this now. ” * * *
In twenty minutes, I’ m parked in front of Kappa Sigma’ s house with a box of Stewart’ s things.
The frat house was at the edge of campus. Each Greek house has similar red brick, Victorian-style homes. As much as I come to this street, my favorite thing is the giant oak trees that line sidewalks. As I drove toward the Kappa Sigma house, I mourned the likelihood that I would never drive down here again.
Moving up the porch, I ring the doorbell. A pledge, a freshman I recognize, answers wearing a maid costume and a sad face.
“Hey, S-Summer,” he says. The pledge is wide-eyed, glancing at my box.
“Luis.” I move past him, ignoring his plea to wait, and sprint up the stairs toward Stewart’ s room.
Giggling reaches my ears before I get to his bedroom door. Quietly opening it, the sight is not unexpected but hurts all the same. It’ s the blond from the library, leaning on him, with one hand down his boxers and one hand through his sandy blond hair. His lips lock on hers and nausea creeps in my stomach.
“So this is the ‘meeting’ you absolutely couldn’t miss?” I hiss loudly. Stewart jumps up from the bed. His wide gaze lands on me.
Raising a brow, I assess them; the girl is mortified, glancing at me and Stewart.
“Summer!” Stewart shoves a pillow over his lap.
I dump his stuff on the floor, hearing glass shatter, pleased it was likely his favorite beer glass.
“We’ re done here,” I say as I walk out his room.
Stewart calls my name as I move through the house. When I see the door, I nearly run, needing to get out. My feet hit the porch, on to the sidewalk and head back toward my car. I steady my breath with each step. The twists in my gut fade as I process the sudden pivot in my life that occurred in the last couple of hours. Tears threaten my face and the hurt seeps through my bones. I force myself to stop but tears still make their escape. Unfortunately I’ m not alone. My eye catches on the two guys meandering toward the house next to Kappa Sigma.
Duke Burnham, the right winger and vicious enforcer on the Ravenwood Ravens hockey team and Denny Owens the left defenseman. I try to look away, and hope they don’t notice me. Duke is tall, imposing, with ocean blue eyes that trail up toward me. Duke is a ruthless player on ice; intimidating in presence, he is one of the key players on the hockey team that dominated college hockey. Rumors have it that the NHL has its eye on him. Denny Owens is a legacy at Ravenwood. Generations of his family have graced Ravenwood’ s halls. He is the latest and like many of the legacies, he is smug and prone to flashing money and influence for whatever he wants. He’ s much shorter than Duke, but what he lacks in presence, he makes up for in influence.
Having interviewed them a couple times for the Ravenwood Paper, I always found my conversations with Duke respectful. In fact, every time I grabbed a quote from him, he was thoughtful. Our conversations were brief but friendly. Denny, on the other hand, stares like he is playing out a sick fantasy right in front of you. It is a wonder how Duke is one of his friends.
My avoidance started when Stewart told me to stay away from the two, telling me he heard rumors of their bad behavior. Hearing about Duke surprised me the most, having no indication of his capabilities but I suppose he was better at hiding it.
Since dating Stewart, he had quickly told me of Duke’ s diabolical ways. Like the summer internship program for a world renowned tech company, there were rumors of blackmail and intimidation against one of Stewart’ s frat brothers, Mark. He eventually transferred out.
On campus, Duke never seemed to cause trouble but I always heard of rumors opposing that fact. Being close with Denny was enough proof that he
wasn ’t who I thought he was.
Stewart viewed him as his rival ever since he tried out for Hockey Club and they played against Duke’ s team for fun. Stewart had it in his mind to show off and Duke decided to humble and humiliate him. Duke always seemed to treat him like a nuisance, occasionally antagonizing him. After that, Stewart set out to join the frat, cursing hockey but specifically Duke. During Campus Wars, I had to keep Stewart from breaking Duke’ s nose after Duke’ s team won the paintball competition. Stewart, of course, tried to prove he cheated.
Duke’ s gaze finds mine, and my breath lock in my throat. He barely sends a nod my way, the same kind he would give when I approached him for quotes for our paper. Now he is staring at me. For a brief moment, I catch a flash of surprise. I quickly wipe my tears and jog across the street to my car, willing my pulse to slow down and the heat in my cheeks to fade.
As I reached my car, I realized I was no longer Stewart’ s girlfriend. Which meant I was now free game. I no longer had the protection from his frat or even his legacy name and I didn’t know if that was a good thing.
Chapter 2
Break-ups are a strange thing. My grandma, Nana, always believed that past loves were disguised as lessons, preparing you for the real thing. I had thought I learned everything from previous boyfriends and other people’ s relationships. I thought I could get away from the pain of growth, but it waits for me all along.
Memories flood my mind. The alcohol not only makes me replay my relationships repeatedly like an awful movie, but it pulls out the other ghosts. I want to go back in time. To a moment where I felt unstoppable and I always remember the Halloween party my freshman year. At the party, I was the designated driver for my friends. Single then and part of a group of Catwoman, each a different version. I was Michelle Pfeiffer, strutting in the skintight black costume with a small, braided black rope as my whip. I felt powerful and I decided that night to be open to whatever came my way.
That was when I had my first and only one night stand. He gave me one of the best nights of my life. The Skeleton, my name for him because he had a skeleton face and was all in black. That night, he freed me from my worries and just let me be the person I wanted to be. I buried the perfectionist student Summer Evans in a cat mask as the Skeleton buried himself in me. Even using my whip to tie me to his bed. We decided no names, just pet ones. Keeping the thrill of anonymity. There were days where I wondered who he was. If I ever ran into him. If my eyes ever scanned his face and I never knew.
This party doesn’t remind me of that night like I had hoped. It smells rancid and almost feels damp. The music is too loud and not even good. The liquor in my cup tastes too strong. Still, I let the liquid burn down my throat. It’ s better than being alone with my thoughts, which have only spun me
around, the darker ones making me question if I was ever good enough for Stewart.
“Summer. Are you good?” Z asks, peering at me. I swear this is the fifth time she has asked tonight. It didn’t help that I’d received an email: my favorite extra-curricular, the Ravenwood Paper, had asked me to step down temporarily. Telling me I needed a break without really giving a choice in the matter. In my downward spiral, I stupidly wrote a scathing piece about one of our donors at Ravenwood. I lost the trust of my team and jeopardized my dream internship in New York.
Three hours ago, I begged Z to go out and let loose to help me forget. Z reluctantly agreed, dragging Eddie, her boyfriend, who promptly disappeared the moment we walked through the door.
It’ s been over a month since I dumped Stewart. October is around the corner and midterms are a few weeks away. No one here seems to care about the looming deadlines and tests. I had decided I wouldn’t either, for now.
“This drink tastes like shit.” Frowning, I move out of the way of a couple barreling the down hall giggling.
“That’ s because it’ s straight up whiskey. And not the good kind.” Z makes a face, smelling the drink and gagging. She plucks the cup out of my hand and replaces it with water.
Chugging it, I am grateful for her. I decide in my drunk haze I need to be less of a bitch and get myself together again. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe on Monday.
The fallout of our break-up was strange. As if I had pulled my head out of the ground and reality rushed to greet me. Ravenwood’ s legacies are untouchable. I never thought that dumping Stewart for his infidelity somehow made me the bad guy.
Leaning against the wall, I watch the surrounding people. Of course, I notice a few girls nearby looking at me and talking.
“Isn’t that Stewart’ s ex?” a petite brunette says.
“Yeah, she’ s kind of uptight. I heard she drove Stewart crazy because she was obsessed with knowing where he was. ”
“No wonder Stewart cheated on her.”
Grimacing, I move away from them.
“We can head back and have a movie night.” Z squeezes my hand, noticing the misery on my face. “Then I can bitch about Tripp to you. Eddie doesn’t want to hear it anymore. ” Eddie is a stressed out senior. Having been together since her sophomore year, he has long been sick of hearing about how Tripp Montgomery ruined her day.
“What’ s he done now?” Tripp is Z’ s personal nemesis. One of the star hockey players with the Ravens. Paired with movie star looks, family wealth, popularity, and being a legacy. The man is used to being worshiped. Z, who comes from the opposite background, grew up in a family who fought hard for her to get into this school. With her brains, she landed a full-ride scholarship. Naturally, they didn’t start off on the right foot and it imploded when he signed up to be a tutor, like Z, for extra credit. He tried to flirt with her to offload his work one day for a date and she wasn ’t having it. They have been antagonizing each other at the tutoring center ever since.
Z’ s face contorts into disdain before she can tell me. Her jaw clenches as her eyes follow something behind me.
“What?” Turning, I follow her line of sight.
Stewart is here. This time his arm is slung around another girl, a different one with dark hair. I recognize her as the president of another sorority.
“Of fucking course. ” My gut sours as he spots me from across the room. It’ s the first time we ’ ve run into each other since the break-up. It was inevitable, but it’ s still too soon. Stewart promptly abandons his date and moves in my direction.
“Let’ s go, Z.” Grabbing her hand, I stalk in the opposite direction, anywhere, just to put space between us.
“Summer!” I hear him call from behind me, but I continue on. My skin feels hot and I want to feel something other than betrayal.
As I round the corner, I walk into something solid. Something broad that smells of fresh linen and citrus.
“Whoa, you okay?” Looking up, I recognize the last person I expected, Duke. Next to him is Tripp, his light green eyes gleam with amusement as they flicker to Z next to me. Z groans, her nose scrunching like she stepped on something. On the other side is Adam Florence, the goaltender with lightning reflexes and a sweet disposition, compared to his companions.
“Must be my lucky day,” Tripp says with a grin. It’ s the one he uses to charm anything with warm blood.
“Must be my nightmare,” Z grumbles.
“Aww, Sunshine, I’ m flattered that you subconsciously think of me. ” “I’ll send you the therapy bill.”
Tripp grins his million-dollar smile at her, but it only makes Z roll her eyes.
I gawk up at Duke, feeling my spine tingle and face heat once again, reminding myself I am here. Duke, of course, doesn’t respond, instead his gaze is pinning me to the spot. Everything around us seems to fade, and something heavy settles in my chest and warms my belly, wondering if the alcohol is in more control than I realized.
“Summer!” Stewart’ s voice is behind me, and I feel his clammy hand on my arm.
Duke’ s eyes blink a beat, then narrow at Stewart’ s hand on my arm.
“Let go, Pratt,” he growls and not a moment later, Stewart does like an obedient dog. That was the power of Duke Burnham.
“What the fuck do you want, Duke? I’ m trying to talk to my girl.” Stewart glares at him, but keeps his space.
“I’ m not your girl anymore!” Crossing my arms, I muster up my best withering look. “Actually, your real girl is on the other side of the room looking for you. You should go to her.”
Steward gives me a hard smile. “Baby! Stop throwing your tantrum and let’ s talk.”
“What the f ” Z moves next to me. Tripp grabs her arm, keeping her at bay, sending her an uncharacteristically serious look to stay out of it.
My jaw tenses and I see red. Hissing at him in a low voice, “Stewart Pratt. If you don’t get the fuck away from me, I will happily remind you and Professor Tilby who has been authoring your Econ papers. ”
A dark look quickly replaces the pleading in his eyes as if in a split second he just became another person.
“Summer, if you don’t stop this ” he hisses, taking a step forward.
“Back the fuck off, Pratt. She doesn’t want to talk to you, ” Duke says. His usual cool and collected threats are now laced with anger as he steps between
us. Tripp is next to him, the perma-smirk now gone, replaced with a look that’ s steely and deadly as he watches Stewart. Duke’ s larger frame hides me. What breaks my concentration is his hand. It splays at my hip and gently guides me behind him.
Biting my lip, his warm hand leaves my skin, and I’ m left wanting more. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Stewart also notices Duke’ s hand. His face contorts into rage. “Are you fucking him now?! Really, Summer?!”
“Hey now!” Adam frowns. “You need to settle down.”
Stewart snaps like a wild animal, and Duke takes a step forward, corralling Stewart away from me. I see the muscles in his back work and I realize Stewart had never once protected me like this.
“And what if I am? Hell, since you suggested it, maybe I will,” I snap, trying to see his face from around Duke’ s massive frame. I don’t care if everyone is watching. I don’t care if anyone hears. All I can do now is watch as Duke nods at his friends. Tripp and Adam grab him by the arms, leading him away.
Stewart curses up a storm, but his voice fades in the crowd. The sorority girl is left with her jaw on the ground, unsure if she should follow him or pretend she doesn’t even know him.
Silence fills the air for a beat before the music continues and the party acts like nothing had happened.
Duke turns to me, “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I reply, staring at the spot where Stewart had been. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Duke studies me as silence settles between us. “You were too good for him, you know.”
Shrugging, I glance at Z, who returns with Tripp and Adam from overseeing Stewart getting removed from the house.
“It was a mistake I needed to learn.” I sigh.
“Let’ s get you home,” Z says. “Thanks, guys. ” Z shoots a look at Tripp before mumbling her thanks to him.
“What was that, sweet cheeks?” Tripp feigns shock.
“Fuck off.” Z flips him off, tugging on my arm, but I’ m frozen.
Duke’ s gaze is still locked on my face.
Exhaustion is replacing the fury and adrenaline. My bed is becoming more enticing than staying a minute longer here.
“Let me find Eddie and we can go, ” Z says.
Tripp rolls his eyes and waves goodbye before moving in the opposite direction, his attention catching on a group of ladies ogling him.
“Thanks again,” I say. My brief interviews with Duke always run like this. He waits patiently for me to ask my question and he gives me an answer. His attention and focus is always on me, no matter what is happening around us. Tonight was no different and I become acutely aware of how handsome he is. Duke runs his hand through his brown hair. It’ s long enough that it curls at the nape of his neck and I watch, wondering if it’ s as soft as it looks.
“I heard you ’ re not at the paper, ” Duke says.
My spine stiffens. “I’ m on temporary leave.”
“I’ m sorry. ” He is sincere and I smile, grateful.
“It’ s fine, I’ll bounce back.”
Duke nods as he rubs the face of his watch. It’ s a habit I noticed when I started interviewing him for the paper. It dawns on me, he might be nervous.
“We’ re having a party after the hockey game in a couple weeks at the Hockey House,” Duke says.
My brow raises, wondering if I heard him right. It takes a moment for me to muster up a ‘ no thanks’ to the random invitation, but before I can answer, Duke leans in.
His scent invades my nose and my head again. His breath is hot in my ear and yet my body shivers. “If you go, come find me and we can really piss Pratt off.”
My mouth drops and my heart feels like I’ m caught in a vice grip that is Duke’ s voice.
“What do you mean?” I ask as my mind reels.
“Pratt is a prick. He thinks we ’ re fucking. Let’ s mess with him.” In the colored lights of the party, he is stone cold serious. He has no business looking at me like that in the middle of the party, surrounded by people.
“It’ s forward, but think about it; we can pretend.” He winks. “Catch you around.”
Duke disappears into the crowd, leaving me wondering if I hallucinated everything, wondering if he really meant what he said. Biting my lip, the heat that simmered in my veins is now wanting to combust. Z appears to take me home and I’ m grateful.
I suck in a breath as I follow Z outside. The fresh air helps to reinvigorate my mind to clear the fog. There is a tug, a feeling of being watched that I can ’t shake as we head down the sidewalk. Duke’ s offer is at the forefront of my mind. It does what it always does, goes down rabbit holes of ‘what-if’ s, ‘should I’ s, ’and ‘why not’s?’
Chapter 3
Stewart Pratt was a bastard. After the party, the jerk started rumors. Rumors of me taking part in an orgy. For revenge because he strayed. My reputation is in shatters, my advisor is worried about my grades and I’ m still out of the Ravenwood Paper.
“Slut shaming isn’t a good look,” Z drawls as we walk across the quad.
“Still, it’ s pretty fucking annoying.” The vanilla latte is my third for the day. My calendar is packed, my to-do list has grown into an insufferable amount of tasks and I barely got a damn lunch. Trying to get back into the motions, trying to make-up for a couple of bad assignments and ignored projects. Trying to regain trust with the Ravenwood Paper to let me back in again.
The worst part is that I’ m horny. Ever since Duke intervened that night, he awakened something I hadn’t felt in a while.
“Did you think about the party at the Hockey House?” Z asks as she leans in. Her hazel eyes are bright with excitement.
“No. When do I have time?” It’ s a lie. I’ m always thinking about it. Debating, weighing the pros and cons. My dreams seem to think it’ s a good idea. God, I even started looking all over my room for that rope from Halloween. It was nowhere to be found. He wasn ’t serious though, he just wanted to piss off my ex. I think.
“You should do it,” she says. “For real, though.”
“What?” My feet misstep on the stairs as we head up to the lecture.
“Seriously. Sleep with him, I always got the vibe that he liked you. ” We greet the cool air inside. The smell of books and floor cleaner assaults my nose.
“Well, IF we get there, I hear he chews up girls and spits them out,” I say.
“That’ s a plus to me. ” Z giggles. “Besides, what if he’ s just as good as Mr. Skeleton man?”
We are standing at the far end of the hall, away from the small crowd of students who are also waiting. Z is the only person who knows about that aberration in my behavior, that one-night stand who is now haunting my dreams.
“I know you haven’t gotten it good in a while,” Z adds. ”Why not talk to him, sweeten the deal with a good lay?”
Rolling my eyes, my phone buzzes. It’ s my mother and immediately, my mood sours. I was actively avoiding her, hating that I’ m going to have to tell her about Stewart.
“You should tell her,” Z says.
“Do I have to?”
“Come on, this is perfect. You have like ten minutes before we can go in.”
Moving down a different hall, I pop my ear buds in and sit on a bench.
“Hi,” I say.
“About time you answered,” my mother drawls.
“I’ ve been busy,” I say.
“How are classes? I know the load you took on is heavy for the business degree, but I promise it will be worth it.”
“Well, it’ s not my favorite.” A partial truth, because I realized nearly a quarter into my semester I hate my business major.
“In fact, I’ m not sure if I want to double major.” My lips purse, I brace myself.
“Well, you can ’t be a journalist; you need to have a degree that is worth the paper it’ s printed on, ” she says.
I close my eyes, trying to push away the sting.
“Don’t take unnecessary risks, especially with an opportunity like this. My daughter, at Ravenwood, with a business degree? It’ s as good as gold for you. ”
My jaw hardens again, tension running down my neck and into my shoulders.
“How is Stewart?” The inevitable question. My hands feel clammy and pain shoots in my chest.
“We are over . . . for good.” I sigh. The silence that follows was the first for my mother.
“What? Why?!” she asks.
“Because he cheated on me, Mom,” I snap. “He’ s an asshole, not the perfect future husband that you think he is.”
“Oh, Summer . . . I ” my mom starts.
“Look, I don’t want to talk about it right now. I have to go to class soon. ”
“Summer . . . ” my mother tries again.
“Can I talk to Nana, please?” The silence stretches again and I hear shuffling in the background. I fight hard against the anxiety that makes my vision blur and my head spin.
“Is this my ingrate granddaughter?” My Nana’ s voice pierces through all that and makes me smile and tears prick my eyes.
“Hey Nana,” I say with relief.
“I almost wrote you out of my will again. You’ re on thin ice for not calling for this long,” she scolds.
“Can’t help it, you old bag. I have to invest in my future, you know.” A tear slips and I wipe it away. “Since I’ll have to make money to keep you alive with machines, eventually.”
Nana scoffs over the phone. “I’d rather haunt you. ”
After chatting about anything but my life, my shoulders relax. Z pops her head around the corner, giving me a warning that class is going to start.
“Nana.”
“Yes?” she asks.
“If someone hurts you, do you let go or get even?” Nana laughs. “Revenge won ’t help you. Karma will. But that doesn’t mean you can ’t help it along.”
“Hmm.” Rubbing my neck, I think surely I can ’t feel worse if I sleep with Duke. Hell, even though I’ m not a casual sex kind of girl doesn’t mean I don’t like it.
“Did you love him?” my grandmother asks.
Biting my lip, I really think about it. “No.”
“Good,” she says, satisfied. “Don’t let him think he’ s won. ”
Throughout class, my thoughts drift as our irritable lit professor eviscerates some of the students’ papers with his Irish accent. What was I to lose? Self respect? I discreetly pull up my phone. My thumb hovers over Stewart’ s social media account. Of course, the first video I see is
him dancing at a club. A drink in hand and sandwiched between two girls. My nose wrinkles and my thumb quickly exits out.
When I leave the lecture hall, I spot Duke and Denny walking in the opposite direction, talking. Duke looks more serious than he did at the party. His jaw is hard and spine stiff as Denny seems to laugh at his own joke. They have been on a winning streak during the games and it’ s becoming more and more likely a scout might appear.
My thoughts drift to our conversations. Perhaps he forgot about what happened at the party. Doubt evaporates as he sends me a smile that dimples his cheek and stops in his tracks.
“You go ahead, Denny.” He nods to the shorter man. Of course, Denny spots me and a frown deepens on his face.
“Don’t be too long.” Even though he looks annoyed, I can feel him looking me up and down and I suddenly want to take a shower.
“Summer,” Duke greets and my stomach wants to flip and spin with the way he is looking at me. Clutching my laptop case and coffee, I wish I actually took the time to dress less like a hobo in my oversized shirt and leggings.
“Duke.” I clear my throat.
“Have you thought about what I said?” he asks.
“A little. Have you? You might have been drunk.”
Duke smirks. “I don’t drink.”
“Oh!” I raise a brow. There is so much mystery about Duke. Rumors swirl around him like a fog, but the little tidbit he shares somehow feels like a shimmer of light in the darkness.
Duke steps toward me, and I crane to look at him. “I’ ve been thinking about it a lot.”
It feels like I’ m having an out-of-body experience, getting caught in Duke’ s orbit.
“Have you?” It slips out more sultry than intended.
“How can I not be?” he asks. My pulse jumps as I see his eyes darken.
“Because midterms are coming.”
Duke laughs, a genuine laugh that brightens his face, and it’ s a beautiful sight. However, I remember his reputation and they always have a sliver of truth. The enigma and brutal enforcer on ice, unforgiving and merciless.
“Why do you want to do this?” I blurt out, searching his sea blue eyes.
Duke nods as if he’ s ready to explain, “Because the bastard has been a nuisance since the Hockey Club game. ”
“Seriously?” I roll my eyes. “That was a long time ago. ”
“Not because he was rude and obnoxious to everyone on the ice but he started some rumors about me that are not quite true.”
My brows shoot up, my journalistic curiosity taking over.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll explain one day but the guy has been talking shit, a lot of shit about people, starting rumors that are damaging, and now you. ” He frowns. “You don’t deserve that.”
“Thanks.” I feel heat spread on my cheeks.
“Besides, he really sucks and I’d like to piss him off.” Duke grins wickedly.
My mouth snaps shut. I’ ve never truly doubted Stewart but slowly it’ s becoming more obvious how much of a liar he is.
The smile on his face stays. “You seem stressed.”
“I always am. ” It’ s the cold hard truth.
“How are you not stressed?” If I recall, he’ s also part of the honor society and is involved with intense hockey training and games.
“I have a healthy outlet.” He winks. “If we do this, I can help with that, too.”
“You mean like . . . ” My face continues to heat up and I begin to notice that people around us are watching curiously.
“Yes.” Duke lowers his voice. “I’ ve always found you attractive.”
My mouth parts as a shock courses through my body. Duke stands in front of me with a damned smile I can ’t tear my eyes away from. When I interviewed him, he was always respectful and attentive.
“If I do this, you won ’t post anything on social media or make fun of me?”
Duke’ s lips thin, “I would never do that. What we are doing is no one ’ s business. Sex is just an option. We can make it a business to piss off Stewart all just by hanging out.”
As we stand in the middle of the quad, I feel more eyes on me. On us. Even this little interaction seems to catch the interest of the student population.
“You must really hate Stewart.” Glancing around, I decide I need to move, heading down to the sidewalk.
“I really want to rattle him a bit.” I don’t miss the glint in his eyes. “I’ m a firm believer in helping karma along.”
My feet trip and his large hands steady me. They are warm and leave a pleasant tingle on my back.
“What’d you say?” My head snaps toward him.
“What?” he asks, confused.
“Never mind.” Shaking my head, I spot my car in the parking lot. I realized he had been going the opposite direction, yet he accompanied me all the way to my car. We exchange numbers and I have to fight the excited smile on my face after he texts me.
“Shoot me a text when you figure out if it is just for business . . . or pleasure.” He winks as he continues down the sidewalk, chuckling at my shocked face, as if the dirtiest, hottest shit I’ ve heard today was funny to him.
That night, I stare at his number. When I got home, Stewart decided to text me. Calling me all sorts of names because he heard from someone else I was being friendly with Duke. I promptly blocked his number and wondered why I didn’t do it before, how I never knew this side of him.
Summer: I’ m in. For business and . . . and if the offer still stands . . . pleasure.
Duke: Friday, after the game, at the Hockey House.
I steady my excited breath and chuck the phone on my nightstand, sealing my fate.
* * *
“You look pretty smokin.” Z whistles as I look myself over in the mirror. My jeans hug my hips as the black lace bodysuit hugs the rest of my body. My brown hair is up in a high ponytail and, for the first time since the breakup, I felt like my old self again.
“I’ m feeling pretty smokin,” I admit, standing in our home after the hockey game against the Badgers of Madison College. I watched with rapt attention as the Ravens dominated the ice and won.
Every time Duke intercepted or brutally took on an opponent, I couldn’t help but grin. His excited blue eyes would find mine across the ice and the
cheers and screams tuned out as I locked into his gaze. It’ s a constant reminder of what’ s to come.
When I got home, I tore apart my closet, finding the sexiest thing I could wear. My mind was made up and if I was going to do this, I was going to summon Summer from Halloween her freshman year.
“You don’t want to come with me?”
Z smiles, shaking her head. “No, I gotta work on my project and then I’ m going to see a movie with Eddie.”
Of course, my thoughts spiral and doubt knocks on the door.
“What if he talks shit about me too?” I frown, my confidence had taken a hit because of Stewart and I know I won ’t bear another one with Duke.
“He won ’t.” Z shakes her head.
“How do you know?”
“Because the only people I know who have slept with Duke are the ones who talk about it. He doesn’t talk to anyone about his exploits.”
“I can ’t believe I’ m doing this.” I fan myself. I want him. I knew the moment I got home after our conversation.
“I can, because you deserve a good dicking down by one of the hottest, most intimidating guys on campus, just to fuck with Stewart Pratt.” Z laughs and I’ m envious of her easy-going attitude.
My mind drifts to our conversation. It has consumed my thoughts as the countdown began, popping into my brain during class and even in the middle of my dreams.
The Uber drops me off in front of the Hockey House. It’ s a designated Victorian-style mansion for many of the hockey players to live in. I recognize a handful of people when I enter the door.
The foyer opens up to a large room, people lined inside. The dim lighting somehow makes the Victorian design less menacing.
My gaze drifts around and I spot familiar faces and head over, only to distract myself from the buzzing in my veins and how my stomach feels like butterflies trying to make an escape.
Meeting with acquaintances does little to shake the feeling of being watched. The shadows at the party feel like they have eyes of their own. I almost reconsider coming here.
“Summer, right?” Turning, I find Denny. His gaze isn’t even on my face; he’ s boldly staring at my chest before dragging his eyes back up to my face with a smirk.
“Yeah. Congrats on the win.” I nod, hoping he doesn’t notice my discomfort.
“Duke told me you might come. ” He smiles. If I didn’t notice him leering at my chest, I would have thought he was a nice guy, but I know better.
“Yeah. He helped me out with Stewart at a party a while ago and we ’ re friends.”
“Did he now?” The gleam in his eyes makes me want to figure out an exit fast.
Luckily, Tripp saves my ass, making an appearance. Next to him is a familiar face, Adam. Adam never says much. When I first interviewed him, I found him to be very shy. He speaks little unless it’ s about his longtime girlfriend, Audrey, who he has dated since high school and both ended up in separate colleges.
Denny shoots Tripp a glare and I can see there is no love lost between the two.
“Denny.” Tripp claps his hand on his shoulder. Tripp is a sniper on the ice, scoring goals and earning the love of the whole Ravenwood population, a fact that Denny hates.
“What’ s up, Summer?” Tripp’ s million-dollar smile wipes away the discomfort like it wasn ’t even there. “Where is your partner in crime?” he asks, glancing around.
“I think Eddie and her are out for dinner,” I say.
Tripp flashes a look of disappointment. “That’ s too bad.”
“What do you want, Tripp?” Denny is annoyed and this seems to please Tripp to no end. The harshness in his tone seems to pull Adam from his distraction, watching between the two, ready to intervene.
“I brought some friends over. Suzy is dying to meet you. ” Tripp drags Denny away from me, presumably leading to the girls in the other room.
Adam pauses in front of me, “Duke’ s waiting upstairs if you want to say hi.” Adam smiles politely before eying Denny and Tripp heading into the other room.
“Excuse me. ”
My eyes trail up. Duke. His arms are crossed, wearing a tight fitting black t-shirt, making his shoulders and forearms thick. I notice the glint of silver on his wrist, a watch.
The vodka I gulp burns the back of my throat. It helps lighten the lead that seems to attach itself to my feet as I head upstairs.
I hold his gaze, and he moves away. I realize that it is now or never. When I trail upstairs, I feel lighter with each step; how can such anticipation make me massively turned on? It’ s as if my body knows what’ s about to happen next. Thinking of the potential of the night ignites a fire in my veins. When I get to the landing, I smile, ready to burn in flames with him.
Chapter 4
He leads me to the far end of the hall. His room has large double doors. I notice the fireplace the moment I step in and take it all in. His room is immaculate, but I notice there are no photos or even a hint of who he is underneath the veneer of being a college legend. There is an intimidatingly enormous bed that is centered. The desk is devoid of anything but a laptop and a lamp. The man is an enigma even in his own bedroom, the place you can be most vulnerable.
“Do you need something to drink?” he offers. He must sense my nerves, the tension in my shoulders and my neck won ’t relax. The heat is a steady fire right now and I want him, but something inside feels this is the point of no return. Like sweet oblivion is just on the other side of the door.
“No,” I say, with a swallow.
Duke smiles and walks toward me, his large hands settled on my shoulders. He keeps my back toward the only exit.
“Relax.” His gentle command relaxes my nerves and I must look like a caged animal to him.
“Sorry, I don’t do this often,” I explain.
Duke nods, his face softens, “Despite what it must feel like, Summer, you have all the power here. When you say stop, I stop. I’ m not gonna do anything you don’t feel comfortable with, okay?”
My mouth parts and I feel myself getting wetter. The heaviness seems amplified suddenly.
“Now. Tell me what you want,” he directs.
I’ m mute and it’ s not because I don’t know what I want, it’ s because there is too much in my head. Too much of me in my head. Wondering if I smell okay, did I shave my other leg?
“Let’ s start this way. What do you want me to call you?” He cocks his head, waiting for my answer. It’ s just a brief flash in my head, the pet name the Skeleton called me.
“Kitten,” I tell him.
Duke’ s face is suddenly unreadable, but I see him swallow hard.
“Kitten,” he breathes and my mouth waters. He says it right, like it’ s a prayer. He takes another step forward and I remain in place, somehow not combusting.
“Can I touch you?” His eyes are hooded and dark. I can barely see any blue. I nod, staring at his lips. His hand reaches for my hair, pushing it back and running through. His other hand splays across my back and pulls me closer so our chests touch.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
I can only nod and I suddenly wish I took up his offer of water.
Duke’ s face burns in my head and I see him look at my lips like he’ s hungry, and he’ s ready to feast. It’ s then I realize he’ s waiting. Waiting for me to make the first move. When I do, I stand on my tiptoes, wrapping my arms around his neck and inhaling his scent, which buries itself in my head.
My heart is hammering and my mind runs a million miles a minute as my lips seal over his. It’ s tentative, and he knows it, and I’ ve never felt so self conscious.
Then Duke kisses back softly and suddenly my mind is silent. He is gentle, as if afraid he would scare me off. I lean into the kiss and I melt in his arms at how sweet it is. I sigh against him as I feel his hands move to cup my jaw, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. When his tongue meets mine, it’ s not frantic, lewd, or invasive. It’ s more affectionate than I had expected.
Breaking away, I catch my breath, my pulse pounding and suddenly. Wondering what the hell I am getting into.
“Kitten, stop thinking so much.” He chuckles.
“I can ’t help it.” Heat creeps in my face, and I wonder if he is regretting this.
“Do you want me to help you?” He licks his lips and all I can do is nod.
“Think back on when you felt thoroughly and utterly satisfied. How did that go?” Duke’ s hands still hold me against him, his fingers tracing my spine as he waits for my answer.
