1. Chapter 1

Chapter one

PAVAL

What is she doing here?

Tia's particular brand of vanilla perfume wafts by my nose as I look up from the textbook I've been ignoring for the past hour. She rarely comes to this side of the campus but when she does, it's on Mondays right after her first class. Today is Wednesday. I check my watch —2 pm. So, the question still stands.

She's dressed in that cute maroon skirt suit I like, the one that hugs every inch of her body. It's paired with a cream or a white blouse; I can't quite see from my angle.

She walks right past my table, focused on something toward the back of the library. Now, I'm intrigued. I've known her for the better part of twenty years after my fathers and her uncle got married. She's been the light of my life, the little ray of sunshine that I started to obsess over, to crave . It helps that Tia occasionally shares my bed, with her thick curves and auburn-dyed hair that accentuates her hazel eyes.

Where are you going, love?

Needing to satisfy my curiosity, I slip in between the bookshelves, keeping distance between us. Tia has told me time and time again that I don't need to worry about her, that she's perfectly fine holding her own. I trust her. I do. I just don't trust anyone else.

Maybe it's because of who my parents are—former members of the Kolas crew, handymen who did anything from kitchen renovations to rearranging faces. It's how they met my other father—Rhys. He's the sweetest of the four but a whole bag of numbers. He sees the world in geometry and statistics, his nerdy ramblings turning the other three on.

I also love numbers but not till the point I want to fuck someone.

A shiver runs down my spine as I try to rid my thoughts of why I moved out of the house so goddamn fast. I thought time would have slowed them down but their love is still alive and well. God, my poor ears.

I stop toward the back of the history section, Tia pausing next to a man twice her size. She's only a head shorter than my 6'0" but this man's bulk fills the entire corner, his gruff demeanor setting off my alarm bells. His brows furrow as she explains something to him. I'm out of earshot of her whispered ramblings but he doesn't seem to enjoy whatever she's saying.

So much so that his fist raises.

Tia shrieks and then slaps her hands across her mouth.

If he thinks he's going to strike my woman, he has another thing coming. I step forward, just enough for the man to notice my presence, a dark smile spreading across my lips. As much as I hate my fathers' previous life overshadowing my degree here, it comes in handy. Being the kid of the Kolas crew gives me perks—mainly where everyone thinks I'm going to set my ‘killer dads' on them if they make me angry.

They've retired from the business but I've seen how powerful their techniques are and I wouldn't want to be on the other side of their anger. My fathers aren't stupid, though, and they wouldn't involve themselves in college affairs.

Especially when I can hold my own. While Rhys taught me math, Valentyn, Dmitri, and Gianni made sure I could fight. They ensured that I would be able to protect myself and whoever else I chose to call family. I don't use the deadly force they've gifted me with but merely staring someone down does wonders.

Like now.

The man bristles beneath my stare, lowering his fist. "Figure it out, Tia. I don't care how you do it but you got till tomorrow." He pushes past her, shooting me a glare that tells me this isn't over. There's no possible way he'll try to fight me—no one ever has in my five years at this university but that could change. I'm very aware of the dirty dealings that happen on campus. I've just never needed to be part of them.

Although, I've been itching for something more than hanging at the local bars and frat parties. There isn't much to do in this little city and even less for someone who enjoys a tad bit of violence when it's time to play. My fathers mentioned finding a hobby–a legal one that wouldn't land me behind bars. Which was an excellent suggestion.

Naturally, I chose boxing until I nearly killed a sparring component because my brain doesn't have an off switch. I attribute that nifty little skill to Valentyn, the leader of the Kolas crew and the one who told me my opponent should not be able to get up. In hindsight, I think he meant just send my opponent to the floor, not kill him.

Not that it matters. I just need to find another hobby to occupy my time.

I shake my head, refocusing on the scene in front of me, a sigh leaving my lips when I realize that I've stepped too far out into the aisle.

Tia whirls around, her face falling when she sees me. That isn't supposed to happen. "I should have known you were lurking in the shadows, Pav. You know that's creepy, right?"

"It saved you. What are you doing meeting macho men in the corner of libraries? You don't come over here on Wednesdays." It's a good thing Tia is aware of my obsessive ass or she would lay me out on the floor. She's the only one I'd let do that. She stomps over to me and punches my arm, letting out a growl of frustration. Tia might be a year older than me but she's so fucking adorable when she's angry. "Answer my question, Tia. You almost got hurt."

"None of your business. Maybe he was my boyfriend." She folds her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow to push back.

"I know for a fact that men like that are not your type. I've also heard a rumor that your current boyfriend has a bit more tact and doesn't hit women." I try to hide the smile threatening to slide onto my lips because as much as Tia tries not to reveal her personal life, I'm very aware of how happy she's been lately. She thinks I don't know about the man she's keeping hidden away or the fact that our friends-with-benefits situation is slowly coming to an end.

I hate it.

I hate that I don't wake up to her every morning in my arms.

I hate that I'll dim her shine and that she's better off without me.

She's suffered so much, although she was too young to remember most of it. When I first met her—twenty years ago—Tia was terrified, confused, and overwhelmed. Her parents and one of her uncles—not Rhys—had been part of some government program, out for themselves. I don't know much about it but we were on the run for a little bit, in Paris no less, before those three ended up in jail.

Tia's grown up with her grandparents and has never once mentioned any desire to meet her mother. I've overheard my fathers talking about her but Tia has declined every call from the jail that has come through. I don't blame her when one of the woman's crimes is treason.

Someone pokes my forehead and I start forward before realizing it's just Tia. "I swear you get so lost in your head sometimes that I fear you won't come back. What are you really doing here?"

"Studying for a final." Not a complete lie. I really do have a final for Advanced Methods of Regression Analysis next week but that's not why I was here today, at this moment. Tia's been acting strange over the last several weeks aside from the happy smiles. More skittish, I think is the best way to describe it. She looks over her shoulder more and there's a little notebook she clings to her chest every now and then.

She's not the type to keep a diary so I know something is wrong.

Tia huffs a sigh as she steps closer, reaching a hand up to cup my cheek. "Babe, I can see you trying to figure everything out in that big head of yours and you don't need to. I'm okay. You don't have to keep watching out for me." I'm about to bring up the macho man again when she shakes her head. "Nope. I can handle myself. You taught me how to throw a punch, remember?"

I do and she's terrible at it. God, she's so fucking smart—working through a law degree but she needs to never end up in a fight. "Mmm," I mumble. She hasn't satisfied my curiosity. In fact, I'm no closer to knowing what she was doing ten minutes ago than I am now. "Tia, you'd tell me if you were in trouble, right?" Gently, I wrap my hand around her throat, loving the way her head tilts back just enough to offer me her lips. She still responds to me the way she used to, even if she isn't mine anymore.

"Of course, but your brand of help might make it worse."

"That's not very comforting, Tia," I muse, rubbing my thumb across her jawline. "I just don't want to see you hurt. You mean too much to me." Unable to help myself, I kiss her. She even tastes like her perfume—sweet vanilla. "No more dark corners."

"Yessir," she pushes out and I squeeze her neck a little tighter, dragging her forward so she can feel what her words do to me. Tia places her hands on my chest, giggling at my behavior rather than being turned off by it. "I have to go. You go study. I'll come by and see you after classes."

I'm not ready to let her go but I have to keep reminding myself that she isn't mine. That she can't be mine. With another kiss to her lips, I release her and watch my obsession waltz back through the library. My gaze hangs on her thick ass, her hips swaying with every step, calling me to throw caution to the wind and drag her back here.

I won't do that, though.

One day.

If she'll let me be selfish.