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PROLOGUE
5 years ago
“You’re lost.” A deep but not quite authoritative voice echoes from behind some equipment in the large dark room.
I clutch my crumpled class schedule, gazing up with wide uncertain eyes.
The voice is familiar. The broad shoulders, his tall, imposing height, and the sharp angles of his jaw are unmistakable. But it can’t be Noah Reeves.
I’m not that lucky.
But I may just be lost. “N-no. This has to be Avery Hall B, where Economics 102 has been moved?” My voice wavers because even I can tell this can’t be right.
“There is no B,” he responds firmly, his face still in his work.
“But my schedule says there’s a B. And that’s A over there.” I point across the hall to no one since he hasn’t bothered turning.
With a sigh, he turns to face the intruder. Damn. At a commanding height, Noah’s silhouette stands out sharply against the dim lights. His dark hair tousled, his black-rimmed reading glasses slightly crooked.
But it’s the intense blue eyes behind the glasses that draw me in like a magnet.
My throat clogs when I come face to face with my secret Clark Kent.
The man I’ve admired from a distance. Okay, so admired is my I’m-a-grown-up-now word. It was more like hard-core-crushed-on for as long as I can remember.
He’s five years older than me, so we never went to school together, but here in Hideaway Springs, everyone knows every Reeves brother. By height, sport, and intensity of their blue eyes.
Noah doesn’t play a sport. Like me, he spends a considerable amount of time at my safe haven.
The library.
Of course, I’m hiding between the YA and steamy romance aisles while he’s spreading law books all over the wooden table on the second floor with no one to keep him company but a giant coffee tumbler and phone that won’t quit buzzing.
That’s the part that makes him Clark Kent. Nerd by day and a dirty lover by night.
Noah sets down what doesn’t look like a law book but a professional camera, before pushing his hair back and stalking over to me.
On instinct, I step back hitting the door frame—and pretty hard. He snatches the schedule from my hand and studies it.
“You alright there?” he mutters, his eyes squinting in the dim light.
“Huh?”
He turns to me, lifting his glasses a tad, and God, it’s sexy. It’s almost like he’s scanning me with his laser-beam eyes to try and see right through me.
Which is so unnecessary. I’m pretty much an open book. I couldn’t hide anything from this man.
“You backed up pretty hard. You alright?”
Ugh. Fuck my life. He doesn’t notice me sharing his hobby of reading or the fact that we both order Earl Grey tea at the library café around the same time. But he notices me bump my spine and skull into a door.
“Yeah. Of course. That was nothing.”
Bored, he flips the piece of paper back to me. “Looks like you’re supposed to be in Liberty Three. Not Avery B.”
I snatch it back, offended. “Duh. I can read too, genius. I got a note that there was a room change.”
He scoffs and runs a hand down his face. “You a freshman?”
