Chapter One
“Beckett, where’ve
you been all summer?” a tall blonde asked as soon as I walked in the door. I
had no idea what her name was, but that was usually the case when it games to
coeds and me-- except for one.
Trying to forget someone. “Traveling,” I
smiled down at her. She was tall for a girl, but couldn’t compete with my 6’2
frame. And she was forgettable. I could spend the rest of my night tolerating a
sure thing or I could scratch this itch that had somehow turned into a chronic,
never ending rash. “I’ll find you later, yeah?”
“Alright,” she
giggled. She put a delicate hand on my shoulder and rubbed my collar bone with
her thumb.
There was a time
in my life when I would have taken that hand and immediately led her to a back
room at whatever campus party we happened to be at. That time was like six
months ago.
But I was a
changed man these days.
Thanks to a drunken
decision and the softest lips I’d ever kissed. That’s right, Beckett Harris,
one time baseball star and all around ladies’ man was felled by a drunken make
out.
It did not get more pathetic than this.
Since the last
three months of summer were spent in desperate pursuit of forgetting all about
that one night stand-- and believe me, nobody was clearer on how that
description was being wrongly used than me- and the girl who wanted nothing to
do with me.
Which was almost
inconceivable to me. I was a catch-- a goddamn eligible bachelor.
She was kind of
quirky and way too focused on school. She was young-- too young for me and best
friends with my sister. She was all kinds of wrong for me.
And I couldn’t get
her out of my head.
I pushed my way
through the crowded living room of some random undergrad and kept my eyes open
for her. I was very aware that my behavior was stalker-ish and not okay in any way. But to be fair I stayed
away for the last three months.
So that was nice
of me.
I accepted a Solo
cup full of beer and drank it without hesitating. I knew girls had to be
careful at these parties, but honestly, who wanted to roofie me? I would be
pretty useless knocked out cold. And I was used to pranks of any kind-- that’s
what I got for growing up with two older brothers and a sister who liked to
“prove” herself.
The beer was cold,
but tasteless and light-- typical college fare. I wasn’t an alcohol snob per
say, but Lennox often brought back interesting beverages from around the world
and shared with Grayson and me. I’d much prefer a craft beer over this garbage--
or better yet twelve year scotch.
Dark hair floated
in my peripheral and I craned my neck to see if it was her. I played a damn
detective to find her. I just got back into town last night and couldn’t suppress
the need to find her. I wanted to make sure she was doing alright this
semester, make sure she hadn’t taken on more than she could handle.
Ok, enough
bullshit, I wanted to make sure she wasn’t dating anyone.
It wasn’t like I wanted to date her.
But I did not like
the idea of someone else taking her off the market. Not at all.
I decided to make
my way toward the backyard. The house was packed with undergrads, all
celebrating the first week of classes. I had another week yet before grad school
started, but I knew enough of the student body to show up anywhere unannounced.
Playing baseball the last four years helped with that.
I walked through a
group of guys watching ESPN highlights on a pathetic excuse of a TV and
answered their greetings, but kept my destination in sight. The longer it took
to find her, the more uncomfortable I was starting to feel.
What if she wasn’t here?
I got a text from
one of the guys I played ball with. He had a confirmed visual, but that was
over an hour ago. She could have easily left by now.
Except her MO
usually kept her at the same party all night. She didn’t come out to parties
often, but when she did choose one to spend her time at, she made an all-night
appearance.
I liked that about
her-- although I couldn’t really figure out why. It was like she was picky, but
when she finally decided on something she committed all the way. I liked that
kind of loyalty. I liked that she wasn’t flakey like most of the other girls I
spent time with.
I glanced back at
the TV, hearing a particular score I was curious about. The announcer brought
back a rush of memories and I couldn’t stop the smirk from changing my
expression. I was definitely finding her tonight.
The first- and
only- time we’d hooked up had been at a party just like this one. We had run
into each other during a game of beer pong. We played against each other,
flirting and laughing the entire night. We were both pretty tipsy by the time
the game was over but when we went our separate ways I didn’t think anything
about it.
It was later in
the night, after most everyone else had disappeared that I was sitting in a
recliner, watching the late night highlight reels. She came out of the kitchen
looking like an exotic goddess in her long, flowing dress and crawled right
onto my lap. Her knees straddled my lap, her hands rested on my neck and her
huge green eyes looked down at me like they were starving.
She bent down and
kissed the corner of my eye. It was sweet, not sexy and I was confused by the
gesture- I didn’t need my little sister’s best friend developing any kind of crush
on me. At the time I was worried she was about to make things really awkward,
but she felt exactly right sitting on my lap the way she was and my drunk brain
was really good at pushing away any argument to talk her out of whatever she
was about to do.
“I want to be a
fan-girl tonight,” she murmured and then slid her tongue over my bottom lip.
I immediately
forgot any reason she shouldn’t be. Her luscious ass fit perfectly in my hands
as I cupped her from behind and adjusted her just a little bit.
“Let’s pretend I love baseball,” she giggled, leaning
forward to nibble on my ear. “And that you’re my favorite player.”
“I am your
favorite player,” I reminded her in a voice I barely recognized. God, this girl
had turned me on faster than anyone I could remember in recent history.
“So then you won’t
mind if I….?” she trailed off and gave me a slow, hot kiss right on the mouth.
“No, I won’t
mind,” I breathed in between her lips.
I deepened the kiss immediately until she was wiggling
and squirming. I liked the whole girl-on-top thing she had going on and in my
alcohol-infused brain I convinced myself she was the sexiest thing I’d ever had
my hands on. She was gentle, but hungry at the same time she was a little bit
innocent but still so sweetly responsive.
One of my hands started traveling north up the curve
of her hip, over her flat stomach and to a place I’d fantasized about more than
one time in our brief interactions. I groped her carefully, gauging how she
would handle this. When her moan broke our kiss and her back arched her further
into my hand I think maybe I lost my mind completely. I did the same thing with
my other hand and her other breast and her reaction was even more intense. This
was turning into a very good night.
But then she pulled away and laughed at me. “No, no,
no, Beckett Harris. I’m not that much of a fan girl,” she shook her head and moved
my hands down to her waist.
I let her, obviously I wasn’t a douche. Her waist was
nice too, and I gripped her tightly, digging my fingers in and keeping her in
place. I had one thing on my mind and if she was pulling back I was gearing up
to convince her to stay right where she was.
“Besides,” she continued, wiggling her hips a little
bit just to make me groan. “I don’t even like baseball.”
“Now you’re just being cruel,” I yanked her forward so
that our bodies were impossibly closer and she let a squeal of surprise. “Where
you going, Britte? I’ll be good, promise.” At this point all I could focus on
were those gorgeous lips and how they felt against mine. I was a desperate man--
desperate to taste her again. But she was driving me crazy with her teasing
kisses, the way her tongue tangled with mine and her body moved against me in
this perfect rhythm of careful desire. I’d obviously lost my mind if I was
promising her insane things like being good and begging for a simple make-out.
“I don’t believe you,” she whispered, granting me
another long, slow kiss. “I don’t think you’re capable of keeping this simple.”
I returned her gesture and teased her with a seductive
move with my tongue that always
worked. She whimpered against my mouth.
“Sure I can,” I tried to sound serious but it came out
more like a growl. “This time.”
“Alright,” she quickly agreed. “This time.”
And as I kissed her into oblivion, I kept my promise
to her while I swore myself I would have her next time- that there would be a
next time. And because of those personal contracts I was on my best behavior
that night.
And ever since then.
But only because
she wouldn’t give me the goddamn time of day.
I noticed her then, in the kitchen, sitting on the
counter next to the keg. She was wearing sinfully small white shorts that made
her long legs look like they went on for days. Her huge green eyes had red
eyeliner around them. She chose the weirdest colors for her makeup but somehow
they always made her look sexy as hell. She was wearing a loose, silky tank top
that didn’t exactly extenuate her figure, but it did show off her shoulders-
which made me feel a little strange that I was checking out her shoulders, but
at this point I couldn’t help myself. She was drawing me into her like a force
of nature and she hadn’t even realized I was here yet.
Which gave me the advantage.
I needed to stay on offense- get to her before she
could make her getaway. She had gotten really good at avoiding me, but I was
hoping she hadn’t heard I was back in town yet.
Her head tipped back and she laughed in her
infectious, giggly way at something one of the guys around her said. She looked
back at him with an adoring look that made me instantly murderous. Bastards.
Whoever they were. But then she patted him on the head like he was a child and
poured him a cup of beer. That was a good sign- girls didn’t treat men they
wanted to sleep with like children.
I sauntered over to her, throwing off my signature
confidence, even though for the first time in a long time, I didn’t actually
feel as smug as I was acting. She had rejected me too many times for this to
feel like a sure thing.
Two things kept me moving forward. One, those damn
legs. And two, if I didn’t kiss her again soon I was going to die. I was. It
was a forgone conclusion. Somehow while I had been making out with her,
convinced I was just doing it so I wouldn’t hurt her feelings, she’d made me
addicted to her.
And I’d been too long without a fix.
The three guys- all younger than me- moved out of the
way when I made it obvious where I was heading. Britte looked down at me and
immediately glowered. She obviously wasn’t happy to see me and I was right, she
hadn’t heard I was back in town by the subtle lines of surprise that lifted her
eyebrows.
I bravely walked up to her and stepped in between the
nirvana of her legs. “Hey, B,” I used the voice I reserved for the bedroom and
trailed my fingertips up her thigh because I
couldn’t help myself.
In every other area of my life I was the picture of
self-control- my work outs, my diet, my studies. But this girl was going to
ruin me with just her innocent bare skin.
“Beckett, you’re in their way. They wanted drinks,”
she motioned to the guys still standing awkwardly behind me, like they were
waiting for me to leave.
I glanced back at them dismissively, knowing they
would figure out what was going on before she did. “They’re good.” I shrugged
casually and I felt them disappear back into the party.
“Why did you do that?” she hissed. “They were
legitimately thirsty!”
“In no way, were they legitimately thirsty,” I
laughed. “At least not for beer.”
Her scowl deepened. “What do you want, Beckett?”
Her hands rested on my shoulders, as if she hadn’t
remembered to push me away yet. I took that as a good sign.
“A drink?” I improvised.
“You do not want a drink.” She sighed, but her fingers
trailed a line along my collarbone and I felt like shivering.
I didn’t- I was
a man after all. But it was proof of what just her touch could do to me. I
wasn’t leaving here without her tonight, I couldn’t.
“Maybe I’m not thirsty for beer either,” I murmured
suggestively.
Her lips twitched like she was trying not to smile. “I
thought we talked about that.”
“We did,” I agreed quickly. “But I forgot the finer
points of our agreement. Maybe you should spend some time reminding me.” I
swiped my tongue along my lower lip, unable to hold back my anticipation for
something I decided was in my reach.
“I am so not drunk enough to make those kinds of bad
decisions,” she laughed. I laughed too, I couldn’t help myself. She pulled me
into every part of her- even her amusement.
“Then let’s get you drunk enough,” I suggested,
shooting a glance at the keg.
“You’re cute,” she smiled at me.
I did not want to be cute. No guy wanted to be cute.
Sexy, irresistible, hot as all hell, but not
cute.
I moved my hands from her thighs to her hips and
jerked her forward so that she straddled my waist and our lips were that much
closer together.
“I promise I’ll be good again,” I whispered. I leaned
in and ran my nose up the graceful line of her jaw. I forced my mouth to stay
closed, to wait to kiss her until she couldn’t stand the thought of not kissing
me- until she was as tortured as I was.
Her sharp intake of breath told me I was heading in
the right direction.
“Beckett, you are bad, very bad idea,” she murmured
even while she turned her head and kissed my jaw. “I don’t have time for you.”
Ok, that stung my pride a little- or a lot.
“I don’t have time for you either,” I declared. But it
was a dirty lie. I would make time for this girl at any moment she would give
me.
“But, god, Beckett,” she hissed as I finally gave into
temptation and kissed her throat.
“I promise I’ll be good again, Britte,” I whispered
against the fleshy part of her ear. What the hell was I thinking? I in no way
wanted to be good with this girl.
“I don’t know,” she hesitated, pulling back again.
I let my lips trail a path down the column of her
neck, inhaling her as I went. I wasn’t at all drunk, the half of beer I’d
consumed did nothing to affect me. But hell, if she wasn’t more intoxicating
than alcohol.
“As long as we-“
She was just about to let me have my way when a
clearly masculine voice spoke from over my shoulder.
“Oh, hey, Britte,” he sounded awkward after
interrupting what we had going on. He should
feel uncomfortable, damn it. “Sorry. I was just looking for the keg.”
“You found it,” Britte laughed nervously. She shoved
my shoulders so I would step back. I stopped kissing her, but I earned this
spot between her legs. I won it, and I was an f-ing athlete. We never gave up our trophies. Fed up with
me she growled lowly, “Move, Beckett.”
I wasn’t one to force my way with any girl so I
obliged by backing up and leaning against the counter space next to her. I
turned my attention on the guy who’d ruined everything for me tonight and met
the curiously annoyed eyes of Jameson McKay. I probably would have punched him.
But he was one of Ellie’s friends and so that made this... obnoxiously polite.
“Hey man,” I nodded.
“Hey, Beckett,” he
nodded back. “Didn’t know you were back on campus.”
“I got in last
night,” I offered. I put a palm on Britte’s knee- staking my claim- but she
shoved it
off her and huffed like I was annoying. Me? Annoying? Impossible.
“Alright, well,
see you guys around,” Jameson tipped his full cup our direction and then
rejoined the party.
“Oh my god,
Beckett,” Britte screeched furiously. “You have got to leave me alone!”
An outrageous
thought slithered down my spine and I instantly bristled at the idea. “You
don’t mean because of him?” I pointed toward the now still swinging door that
led out to the rest of the party. Then I glanced at Britte, she was blushing
crimson red.
Hell, no.
“Please, Beckett
just, can you leave me alone?” she whispered, her voice shaking with
embarrassment.
Shit.
Shit.
I
didn’t realize I had competition. What the hell?
But it wasn’t
exactly like I could do anything but what she asked. I was a good guy. Or at
least I kept telling myself I was. If she wanted me gone, then I had to go.
I stood up and
walked to the middle of the sticky linoleum floor and turned around to face
her. I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms- classic tough guy look. Maybe I
could intimidate her into what I wanted- those were obviously good guy actions.
I stifled a frustrate groan.
“Beckett,” she
whined, sliding off the counter. “I don’t have time for this.”
“You already said
that,” I reminded her dryly. And then I decided I didn’t want to be the good
guy anymore. I gave it a shot. It didn’t get the girl. There had to be a better
way, a speedier, more efficient way. “I’ll make you a deal.”
Her eyebrows
furrowed suspiciously, “What kind of deal?”
Smart girl, she
shouldn’t trust me. “I’ll leave tonight and you can go…. you can go back to the
party.” The idea of what or who she was going to do at said party made bile
rise in my throat like before any important game. My stomach churned and my
fists clenched. Game face. “If you go
to coffee with me tomorrow afternoon.” I didn’t drink that bullshit but from
experience I knew girls loved that kind of stuff.
“No way,” she
shook her head quickly.
Time to put the
pressure on, “Fine, let’s go find Jameson then. I’ve been wanting to ask him
about…. his running program anyway.” I lied. It didn’t a genius to figure that
out.
And Britte was
beyond genius level. “Liar.”
“Really? Because I
could talk to him about running all night long. I have a million questions
about running. I can’t wait to ask him about running.” Ok, now I was just being
an asshole, but I’d make it up to her tomorrow.
“Fine,” she agreed
quickly when she realized how determined I was. “Fine, just go.”
I broke out into a
smile. Victory. I loved to win. But I wasn’t going to stick around for her to
change her mind either. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at three.”
“No, I’ll just
meet you-” she tried to counter.
“You know what?”
Now I was just taunting her. “I’ve always wanted to know how they train for
hurdles. It can’t be easy-“
“Fine, Beckett.
Pick me up. I don’t care. Just get out of my hair tonight.” She shoved my bicep, obviously exasperated with me.
“See you tomorrow
Britte. I hope you can keep your mind off all the wicked things I planned to do
to you tonight. I hope I didn’t interfere with the rest of your evening.”
I turned around
then, leaving her sputtering and bright red. Good. She could hang out with
Jameson as often as she wanted as long as she had my mouth on her mind.
I’d get my chance
tomorrow anyway.
Awesome. But just like the characters I don't have TIME to fall in love with this book. Sigh...fine. Is this done? Is this out yet? Rachel Higginson....killing me. I need to get into that coffee shop. Now. xo
ReplyDeleteYeah, Excited for the finished book! Keep them coming Rachel you rock.
ReplyDeleteO my word this was absolutely awesome!!! I cant wait for the book... Its going to be stunning!!!
ReplyDeleteAs much as I love this, I can't help but think DAMNIT Jameson never gets the girl!
ReplyDeleteI am so excited for Beckett! But you are going to give Jameson a girl at some point right?
ReplyDeleteI wondered if Jameson likes Ellie in the first book...? Hope he gets a special someone cause he's too adorable!
ReplyDeleteThis is so exciting! I really do want to see Jameson get his girl, though!! He's too cute.
ReplyDeleteWhen is this book coming out?
Delete