Prologue

PROLOGUE

Spencer

Eighteen years old

“Ilike your shirt.”

I looked up at the soft voice breaking through the loud beach party going on around us. It was a guy I’d never met before, with dark hair and unique blue eyes. They almost looked icy, if that made sense. Or like a blue flame I had a feeling held all sorts of secrets.

He was gorgeous—a little softer than some of the guys, but I wouldn’t call him chubby like me. He had full lips and a contagious smile that set butterflies loose in my belly.

He frowned, which reminded me he’d said something to me, and there I was, grinning at him like a dopey idiot. I couldn’t imagine why this guy was talking to me, but then I glanced at my old T-shirt and remembered what he’d said. “You like Power Rangers?”

“I’m gay. It’s in the handbook,” he replied, making me chuckle.

“Me too, but I didn’t get a handbook. I feel left out.”

The guy shrugged. “I’ll have to let you borrow mine.”

Was he flirting with me? Jesus Christ, if I was sleeping, I didn’t want to wake up. “Can I get you a beer?”

“Sure,” he replied, then followed me over to the keg. I grabbed a Solo cup, filled it and handed it to him, then got one for myself. I had no idea whose party this even was, but word had gotten around the Cal State LA campus that there was a private beach and it was going to be lit.

Someone turned the music up, people dancing and cheering all around us. “Wanna go down the beach where it’s quieter?” I said to him.

“Huh?”

“Down the beach!” I pointed, and the pretty guy nodded.

We walked together while I wondered if I had fallen and hit my head. Maybe I’d gotten drunk, had an accident, and was currently bleeding to death while dreaming about the boy with the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen.

“You from around here?” I asked, the beach quieting the farther we got from everyone.

“Santa Monica born and raised. You?”

“The Temecula area.” We found a spot and sat on the sand, silhouettes of the party in the distance. “I’m a freshman. You?”

“Same.”

“Bet it’s nice to be so close to home base. You probably still have a lot of friends around.” I did too, but they were more in Riverside County. A lot of them ended up going to school in San Diego.

“My three close friends—Marcus, Declan, and Parker—don’t go to Cal State. I’ve known them since middle school.” He looked down, circling his finger along the rim of the cup, the mood suddenly heavier.

“But they’re close still?”

“Yeah. We’re just all at different schools, and…never mind. It’s dumb. I’ve met a few cool people here, though.”

I felt the sadness of the moment, could tell he was lonely and missed his friends. I couldn’t pretend that didn’t seem a little silly to me since they were close, but college was tough on all of us for different reasons.

“What do you do for fun?” I asked.

“I like to work out. I’ve lost a shit ton of weight and still losing.” Was that why he wasn’t drinking his beer? Too many calories? “What about you?”

I bristled, the butterflies from earlier starting a war with me now. “I don’t care about losing weight. I’m healthy and active. I dance. I like myself the way I am.”

His pupils blew wide. “Oh shit. I didn’t mean… I wasn’t asking you if you were losing weight. I wanted to know what you do for fun.”

We stared at each other, my insides taking flight. Neither of us seemed to know what to do or say, and then we burst into laughter. It went on so long that my cheeks began to hurt. He set his cup down and fell back onto the sand, looking up at the stars. When he quieted, I did the same.

“I miss my family, even though they’re close,” I admitted. College was a whole new experience, and I was still trying to figure it all out.

“I miss Marcus, Park, and Dec. I know that sounds ridiculous. It’s just…”

When he didn’t continue, I asked, “Just what?”

“They’re my people. It’s hard to explain. Shit. I don’t know why I said that. I’m an idiot. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

I frowned, my chest suddenly feeling slightly heavy. “Why would I tell anyone?” And honestly, why did it matter? There was nothing wrong with missing people.

“I don’t know…just, people talk. I don’t want to look weak or whatever.”

Wow. He seemed to care a lot about what people thought. He also didn’t want anyone to know how he felt, but he clearly needed to talk about it. I didn’t know why he’d chosen me, but I’d never felt so important.

“Who’s your favorite Power Ranger?” I asked, wanting to keep him talking. Maybe if I did, he would eventually feel more comfortable opening up to me.

We went from Power Rangers to other TV shows. He liked true crime but also loved cartoons from the 1990s. We talked about school and majors. We didn’t discuss anything emotional, nothing too deep, but it felt like we did, like I was getting a glimpse inside this man, and yet I couldn’t really tell who he was. I wasn’t sure he knew either.

He shared a lot about his exercising and how much weight he’d lost. His goals and lifting. I told myself it was mostly because he was studying to be a physical therapist, so of course physical activity would be important to him. Not that there was anything wrong with him having lost weight or wanting to lose weight. I just didn’t want him to think that’s where his worth lay.

I didn’t know how much time passed, but I did know I didn’t want this night to end. I felt a connection to him, wanted to get to know him more, thought maybe we could become good friends.

He was funny and charming and made me laugh. He talked a lot about his best friends, and I could tell how important they were to him.

I drank my beer, but he didn’t. Eventually we sat up again, and I brushed off the specks of sand stuck all over his back and in his hair. “You’re a mess.”

He shook his head, making sand fly everywhere, and both of us chuckled.

Our eyes met again, and as crazy as it sounded, I felt it in the air, this electric energy I couldn’t explain, making something inside me spark.

Well, go big or go home, right? I leaned in, hoping this wasn’t a mistake, that I was reading the signs right. He leaned in too, a small smile on his lips that I really craved a taste of.

Just before our mouths touched, I heard, “Yo! Corbin! What the fuck, dude?” in the distance. He jerked away and scrambled to his feet. Corbin. I hadn’t even asked him his name and hadn’t given him mine.

“I’m coming,” he called back, looking at the group of guys heading our way, and then at me. “I should go, but…this was nice. I had fun. I…” He rubbed a hand over his face, and just like that, turned and jogged toward the guys who totally looked like frat bros. Was he not out? But that didn’t make sense. One of the first things he’d said to me was that he was gay.

I watched until their shadows joined the partygoers, wishing I’d told him my name or asked for his number or something. Maybe he didn’t want to kiss me and just wanted to be friends. I was okay with that too. I liked him. Not that I knew him well, but that didn’t change the connection I’d felt.

I shoved to my feet, deciding this was an opportunity I wasn’t going to let slip through my fingers. I’d find him, ask for his number, and see if we could hang out sometime.

It didn’t take me long to spot him talking with the guys who’d come looking for him.

“Who was that fat guy you were with?” one of them asked, making me stop dead in my tracks.

“I thought you were going to kiss him,” another said.

“Are you a chub chaser?” the third asked, and they cracked up laughing.

“What? No. Fuck that. He was no one, and I wasn’t going to kiss him,” Corbin replied.

My heart dropped to my gut. My chest, hell, every muscle in my body, tightened. Fuck Corbin. Fuck all of them. I was somebody whether they saw it or not. Clearly, the connection I’d felt was completely one-sided. I didn’t want to be friends with someone who didn’t see my value and thought it was funny to kiss someone like me anyway.

Over the next few years, I saw Corbin on and off. We didn’t talk, and if he’d seen me, he either didn’t recognize me or didn’t want to speak to me. I noticed as he lost more weight, gained more muscle. When his face changed slightly—the bump in his nose disappearing—I noticed that as well.

It was better that we weren’t friends, that I didn’t think there was more to Corbin than met the eye. We were too different, he was too superficial, and what I would never admit to anyone other than myself was that he’d hurt me too much.