Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

MADISON

Summer Break

“Whoa, you okay?” I catch the girl stumbling before me. Her arms grab mine a moment before she face-plants on the concrete. I help steady her on her feet, doing all this without spilling the drink in my hand—an impressive feat, if I say so myself. However, the girl’s watermelon cocktail doesn’t fair out so well. I’m currently wearing it.

“Thanks. Gotta watch those rugs,” the girl says, slurring her words, oblivious to the red coloring soaking into my sarong. Glad I grabbed the black wrap instead of the white one.

My gaze drops to the patio, where the nonexistent rug exists, and back to her. Recognition sets in. She’s Rosie Belington, a shy, quiet girl from my graduating class, often hanging out with the academic crowd. How did she end up at Becky’s summer bash?

“Yeah, maybe slow down on those?” I point to her nearly empty cup.

“Pfft, I don’t remember you being so … stiff.” She pats my arm and ambles to the other side of the patio, mumbling something about the need to loosen up.

Wow. Rosie isn’t that shy, quiet girl anymore. She must’ve gotten tired of being good.

A feeling I know all too well.

I close my eyes for a moment. The blasting loud music, the free-flowing alcohol, and the meaningless conversations make me want to escape to the bedroom reserved for me. I want to be anywhere but here in my hometown, partying with my old high school friends. Though calling them friends is a stretch. All of them, including Becky, are more like old acquaintances my parents forced upon me. The only common denominator between us is family wealth.

I don’t even know why I came tonight.

Yet, I do. I just don’t want to think about it.

“Two more years, baby! Then it’s graduation.” Becky shimmies up beside me with her glass raised for a toast.

“Two more years.” I clink my tumbler against hers, ignoring the annoyance simmering beneath my skin. Becky knows I’m on track to become a dentist and have a lot longer than two years left. On the other hand, I shouldn’t fault her for being excited. She got to choose her career path—marrying wealth.

Me? I get to play in people’s mouths and smell bad breath for the rest of my life. Go me!

I sip my drink and shake off my jealousy. It’s not Becky’s fault she gets to study what she wants. It’s also not her fault I loathe summer break and can’t wait to return to my apartment off campus.

Back to the one true friend. Amanda.

I’d stay there for the summer if I were allowed.

“Thanks for letting me crash over tonight,” I say. Though I don’t want to be here, I want to be home even less.

“You know it.” She bumps my hip, and then her eyes grow large. “Do you think Blake will show?”

My stomach clenches. Not that I care if Blake Morton, captain of the Cessna U. Wildcats hockey team, makes an appearance. He’s always welcomed wherever. My issue is with his off-and-on-the-ice wingman, Ryan Sorenson.

“I’m not sure. I don’t keep up with the hockey players,” I lie.

“It’d be great if he showed. The party could use more hotties.” She shakes her head as she scans the crowd. “Oh, have you heard the latest? Blake’s mother keeps trying to nab girls from the country club to date him.” She scoffs. “As if he can’t get his own date. He has zero problems getting girls around campus.”

“Wouldn’t she be looking for more than a hookup?”

“Yeah, but between him and Ryan, please. They get more action than a frat house during rush week.”

My jaw clenches at the mention of Ryan’s name. “I fucking hate Ryan. He screwed me over.”

“I bet,” Becky says, her tone all-knowing.

“Come again?”

“I’m kidding,” she grins. “He’s got a reputation. You know what guys like that are like. You’re probably better off.”

“Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a nice girl, Madison. You don’t hook up with guys like him.”

“That’s … not nice,” I guffaw. “I still don’t get what you even mean.”

I don’t know if it’s the three gin and tonics or the fact that I haven’t gotten laid in far too long, but Becky is grinding on my last nerve right now.

A loud commotion draws our attention to the French doors across the patio. Fucking hell. As luck would have it, Ryan walks outside, and of course, he’s got a hot blonde hanging off him—someone I don’t recognize.

Becky sighs. “Do I have to spell it out? He’s huge, Maddy. Down there. And with your inexperience…”

My adrenaline spikes as she lets that tidbit of information hang. “Yeah, right. That’s just a rumor.” One that my supposed friend, Jade, started after prom. I give my friend a side-eye. “You didn’t … hook up with him, did you?”

“Not me, no. Unfortunately…”

I release the breath I was holding. At least one of my so-called friends didn’t betray me. Though it sounds like she would’ve if given the chance.

God, who am I kidding? Ryan made it clear he didn’t want me when he screwed me over. Besides, if the rumors are true, I’m not sure I can handle him. I’ve never even gone down on a guy.

Yet.

I make a vow right here and now that I’m going to be more promiscuous this year. No matter what anyone thinks.

Bringing the glass to my mouth, I take a drink but find it empty. A quick scan of the patio tells me the path to the kitchen is clear of Ryan and the blonde. I point to the glass and yell above the music. “I’m going to get another drink.”

Becky raises her eyebrows, but I shake her judgment off. This is why I have a room here tonight—to drink away overbearing parents.

I veer from the pool house, where most drinks are kept, and head toward the central kitchen, where we store our personal stash. Once I step through the French doors, I pad across the slate-tiled floor and come to a halt. There he is. Ryan Sorenson with his back leaning against the counter, scowling at his phone.

I tip my head and march toward the kitchen island. “What’s the matter? Having a hard time replacing your date already?”

His gray eyes catch mine, and I swear the room dials up a few degrees. Ryan’s gaze is steady, his face unreadable.

“Maddy,” he greets in his low, gravelly voice. And damn if that deep tenor doesn’t stir things below, just as it did back when we were friends.

Damn it. I can’t let his hotness level suck me in. There’s a reason why I hate him. But fuck. With his tall, athletic build filling out his fitted T-shirt and jeans in all the right ways, Ryan commands attention without even trying. His light brown hair is perfectly styled but in a sexy way, while his eyes seem to hint at something hidden beneath their surface.

“Ryan.” I manage to keep my voice steady despite the sudden urge to punch him for being so hot.

“My phone died. You wouldn’t happen to have a charger, would you?”

Without saying a word, I reach for a bottle of gin and pour myself another drink. The liquid burns as it slides down my throat, and I welcome it, relishing the brief distraction from his intense stare.

“Surprised you’re drinking. Wouldn’t that be considered unhealthy?” he asks.

My gaze drops to the liquid in my glass. “Just because you’re friends with my roommate doesn’t mean you know me.” Anymore. Though he’s right. I am a health nut, but I do indulge once in a while.

“Fair point.” He flashes his phone, eyebrows raised. “Charger?”

I grab the glass tighter and muster whatever willpower I have inside me to answer. “Why don’t you check with your date?”

“I don’t have a date.”

“Cut the shit. I saw the blonde on your arms.” I cringe the moment the words slip from my mouth. The last thing I want him to think is?—

“Checking me out, Grimes?”

And there it is, him thinking he has the upper hand. The arrogance rings loud in his voice.

“What? No! I?—”

“Relax, I’m kidding.” He kicks off the counter and saunters to where I’m standing. “She isn’t a date.”

I scoff.

“She isn’t.”

My eyes meet his from his commanding tone. The corner of his mouth draws into a smirk, showcasing the dimple on his right cheek, the one I always wanted to lick but never found the courage.

“You know who she is.”

“I do?” I rack my brain but come up short.

“Yeah. It’s Leah Goodrum.”

My eyes widen. “Really? She’s … changed a lot since we’ve graduated.” Her parents must’ve gifted her fake tits for graduation.

He shrugs. Then he holds up his phone again. “A charger?”

“We shouldn’t be seen together.” I chew on my lip because that statement holds a lot of truth.

“Nobody’s here.” He leans in so close that the scent of his rich cologne, hints of musk and sandalwood mixed with a subtle citrus undertone, tingles my senses. I find myself inching closer while watching his mouth. “Except us.”

Irritated that he lured me in, I backed away. “Why is this my problem?”

“Come on. I need to stay connected to my dad.”

I cave at the mention of Mr. Sorenson and fight the sad smile threatening to overtake my features. I admired Ryan’s dad. Still do. His tragedy hadn’t changed that. I just wish things could’ve been different.

“Fine. But it’s in the room I’m staying in.”

Ryan sweeps his hand for me to lead. I down the last of my drink, needing the liquid courage to lead him up the stairs. My heart races as I move through the quiet house and into the hallway. He follows effortlessly as if he’s used to trailing behind me. But that’s not exactly true. Usually, it’s the other way around.

We get to the door of my room, and I pause, hand on the knob. What the hell am I doing? This is a terrible idea. I should be turning around and telling him to find someone else or, better yet, buy his own damn charger.

“Are you going in, Grimes?” he asks from behind me, his voice a low rumble that makes my nerves jitter even more.

I push open the door without responding and walk straight to my purse on the nightstand by the bed. Once I grab the charger, I bend to search for the wall receptacle. It has to be here somewhere. I search for it, but it’s not behind the dresser. Of course, it isn’t. Why would it be easy?

I bite my bottom lip, still bent over, and stretch farther to look behind the bed. Bingo!

I quickly plug the charger in, straighten to full height, and turn to face Ryan. He leans against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, and those damn eyes locked onto me.

It jolts me back to when we shared moments together, friendlier ones, when I thought he liked me before revealing his true intentions.

Corralling my feelings and garnering some sense of control, I cross my arms and sit on the bed. “It’s not going to charge itself.”

Ryan pushes off the doorway and pads across the room. Despite the tension knotting my throat, I watch him move. There’s a grace to it, a predator’s fluidity that awakens the butterflies in my stomach.

He stops in front of me, hands fumbling with the phone. I can’t tell if it’s on purpose or not, but he’s intent on standing crotch-level right in front of me.

Usually, I’d just let it go, but for some reason, tonight, I just can’t.

“Excuse me.” I waggle my eyebrows. He looks down at me, sitting on the bed.

“Yes?”

“You know what you’re doing. Cut it out.”

“Come again?” He seems genuinely confused.

“You know. This…” I swat my hand forward, intending to make a gesture, and accidentally whack his junk.

Okay. Not good.

But damn, are the rumors true? Because what did I just feel?

“Did you just … touch my dick?”

I stand up and shift to the right to create space. “Oh, don’t act like you weren’t flaunting it around. You were standing right in front of me like that.”

“Like you didn’t bend over to show me your sexy ass when you plugged in the charger?” He erases the distance I created. “Get the fuck out of here. Stop being a hypocrite.”

“Make me.” My hands ball into fists by my side, and whether intentional or not, I puff my chest out, my breasts accidentally brushing against his torso. Those steely gray eyes bore into mine, but I won’t back down.

“Look, I don’t understand when you became such a bitch. We used to be friends, remember?”

I huff. “Maybe you got so full of yourself that you moved into a whole different world. And, so you know, spreading rumors that you have a big dick won’t help you with me. Stop checking me out when I’m just trying to be nice.”

“Where did you hear that?” He cocks his head a little, lips twitching.

My face turns beet red. “Oh. I, uh…”

As if this moment couldn’t get any more awkward, he presses his hips into me, moves me into the wall, and lays the hottest kiss I’ve ever had on my lips.

Fuck, this is hot.

His hand slides up my thigh to my ass, and he squeezes. God, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want this. His strong hands on my body, his lips pressing hard against mine … it’s a scenario I’ve dreamed about for years. I’m playing a dangerous game, and pushing it further might create a disaster.

But I can feel the wetness seeping into my bikini bottoms, a clear indication my body is at war with my mind.

My hands rake up his chest. I go to push him away but clench his shirt and pull him to me instead. Because once … just once … I don’t want to be a good girl. Or at least the girl who always does the right thing. I want to do something for myself. I want to let go and follow my inhibitions.

All too soon, he pulls back but doesn’t let go of his hold. He guides me to the bed and has me sit before him.

Eyes on me, he undoes his belt. Then he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, so he’s only got his briefs on.

Holy hell, that’s a bulge.

He slips off his briefs and…

“Oh, good God,” slips from my lips. I’ve never been wet just at the sight of a man’s cock before. But I didn’t know they came supersized. It must be at least eight inches long. He’s … gorgeous. Veiny. Thick. And I definitely shouldn’t be moving this quickly.

I never do.

But I did make a vow to myself thirty minutes ago.

“Think before you open your mouth next time,” he smirks. “Now I’m going to make you beg for it.”