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Chapter One
Olivia
“Hey, sexy thighs. Do you need a ride?”
I roll my eyes as a Range Rover Defender rides alongside me as I walk down Brunswick Avenue. I pretend to ignore the sassy driver and keep my eyes straight ahead. My flat heels click against the cracked sidewalk, and I straighten my back, letting my breasts bounce under my oversized university sweatshirt.
“It will cost you,” I reply, “and I’m not sure you can afford me.”
The Rover halts in heavy morning traffic, and the cars behind it lay on their obnoxious horns. Smiling, I spin around and grab the passenger side door handle. Lucas Beck is one of the hottest guys on campus, but we’re just friends. He’s only teasing me. Again. At least, I hope he’s only kidding. I swing the door open and hop in, glad that I don’t have to walk two miles from my off-campus apartment to the main campus.
“You should text me for a ride, Livi. I pass your block every day on my way to class.”
When Lucas smiles, his dimples pop in his chiselled cheeks. He’s textbook handsome with a square chin, emerald eyes, and wavy auburn hair. Last week at football practice, everybody in the stands gasped when he pulled off his soaked t-shirt and tossed it onto the field. And I do mean everybody—women, men, children, dogs, and birds flying overhead. When his naked muscles flex, everybody gawks in appreciation.
Plus, Lucas is sweet, kind, and super-considerate to stop and pick me up when we’re both running late for class. There’s a list of reasons I should date him, but I’m just not into Lucas for some strange reason.
Lucas lowers his bass voice. “You have my number, sugar.” Okay, so the sexy way he just said that any normal girl would’ve yanked her moist panties off and leapt on him. But instead, I fidget, not with desire but with awkwardness.
“You promised, Lucas. No flirting in the car,” I mutter.
“I’m just playing.” He smiles broadly. “Livi, the year has only just begun. Ease up on me, girl.” He pauses a beat. “But I’m serious. Call me whenever you need a ride.”
“I’ll be okay.” I toss myblonde[1]hair like I’m the biggest, baddest bitch on the streets of Middleworth, New York.
As we wait at a red light, a disheveled man staggers out of a dive bar on the corner, steps out into Brunswick Avenue, and barely stays in the crosswalk. His face is dark with thick gray whiskers, and he’s probably been out all night. The wobbly man stops in front of the Rover and glares in at us with a look of pure disgust. His brown paper bag slips out of his shaky hands, and the vodka bottle inside shatters on the street in all directions. The man shouts at the 80-proof puddle on the ground, not noticing that the light has changed to green until the horns start blasting. He points a gnarled finger at Lucas, and Lucas responds by edging his SUV slowly forward. The man refuses to move out of the way.
I grip Lucas’ arm when the bumper taps the man’s hip. “Are you crazy?”
Scowling, Lucas leans on his horn as the cars behind us pull around his SUV and speed off. Lucas throws his car into park and starts to open the door. My anxious eyes lock on the man who rocks back and forth. Sometimes, Lucas can act as if he’s still on the football field. I’m about to grab Lucas’ arm and pull him back when a tall man in a black hoodie comes out of nowhere. I watch in shock as the other man drags the drunk onto the sidewalk.
I can’t see the other man’s face, but something makes me stare wide-eyed at his profile. I turn in my seat and try to get another look, but Lucas drives off at top speed.
“You could’ve hurt him!” My tone is not kind.
“I wasn’t going to hurt him,” he sulks. “Just get him out of my way.”
The light mood in the car shifts into silent reproach. Lucas’ kindness can be selective at times, and maybe that’s the reason I won’t say yes to a date. I switch on the radio to end the stony silence. Thank god he has a radio installed in his SUV and doesn’t rely solely on his phone for music. The dial is tuned to the sports station to get the stats for the college games. I switch stations until Megan Thee Stallion is singing a song that fits my pissed-off mood.
“Call me next time.” Lucas is calmly stern. “You could have been walking past that psycho.”
I sigh in defeat. “Maybe you’re right, but I’ve taken care of myself for the last nineteen years.”
He delivers me a side-eye. “I’m sure someone brought you home from the hospital.”
I laugh, letting the incident go too easily. “You know what I mean.”
I’m not disrespecting my dad. He raised me to be independent and not back down. But when it was time to pick a college, I picked one out of state—Wakehurst University in upstate New York. I love my dad, but I was tired of him micromanaging my youth with the curfews and dress codes. I was tired of wearing long pants and long sleeves all year long in Pennsylvania. It’s not the hot south, but summers are humid and sticky on the East Coast.
Lucas grins, and the mood shifts back to our normal. “So, are you still taking freshman English?”
“Brat.” I punch his forearm and have to shake out my hand. “I passed that last year when I was a freshman. I’m starting my marketing major this year.”
“Marketing?” He scowls with a glint in his eyes. “Can’t you learn that online? Just read a few articles.”
My voice tightens. “I will read about it right after I finish playing fantasy football, jock-brain.”
Lucas stops the SUV in front of the school gate. The capital W is surrounded by a flourish of metal curlicue that look like they’re written with a pen instead of forged in iron. A few students are still milling about, but the walkway into the main campus is clearing out quickly. I check the time on my smartwatch, and we’re fifteen minutes late for first period.
