Книга - The Impact of You

The Impact of You
Kendall Ryan


From the NEW YORK TIMES bestselling author of FILTHY BEAUTIFUL LIESNeeding an escape from her past, Avery chooses a college where no one knows her. Keeping a low profile was the plan, falling for the intense frat boy, Jase wasn’t. Yet she can’t deny how alive she feels when he’s near. Even as common sense implores her to stay away, her body begs her to get closer.Jase, numb from his own family drama, has grown bored with weekends fueled by nameless girls and countless bottles when he meets Avery. Helping her cope with her past is better than dealing with the bullshit his own life’s served up. Determined to drive away the painful secret she’s guarding, he appoints himself her life coach – getting close to her and being the one to make her smile are simply perks of the job.But when Avery’s past boldly saunters in, refusing to be forgotten, can Jase live with the truth about the girl he’s fallen for?









The Impact of You


BY KENDALL RYAN







Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)

First published by Kendall Ryan Books 2013

First published in Great Britain by Harper 2015

Copyright © Kendall Ryan 2013

Cover photograph © Tom Merton / Gallery Stock

Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2015

Kendall Ryan asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9781489519108

Ebook Edition © April 2015 ISBN: 9780008134075

Version 2015-04-13


To girls everywhere who have made mistakes.

Forgive yourself.

Then let it go.


Contents

Cover (#u42202ceb-88d4-5b89-b55a-99058fbd5d3d)

Title Page (#u0c2cfdcf-c36f-5709-9412-1bd685d8e140)

Copyright (#uc8e4d6d6-510f-5eeb-94bc-6ed68c72612b)

Dedication (#u8558c5de-b784-5303-8594-4e62ece42d17)

Chapter 1 (#u378aeeb1-de79-5af2-be2d-fa0295ab868c)

Chapter 2 (#uddc2968c-9da6-5108-ba6c-87ff9c569285)

Chapter 3 (#u3edbc80f-d3e2-5a62-819c-e8a4d2d83c68)

Chapter 4 (#u19633f2f-1df4-5598-b68a-272a194f71c1)

Chapter 5 (#uaf4c34d9-70ee-52f0-975c-567ed4fa578e)

Chapter 6 (#u65ae5611-af1e-572a-9d59-ca257bd3ed91)

Chapter 7 (#ufe38975d-e889-5704-95b2-57800c2e7eb1)



Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 26 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 27 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 28 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 29 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 30 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 31 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 32 (#litres_trial_promo)



Acknowledgements (#litres_trial_promo)



Read More From Kendall Ryan (#litres_trial_promo)



About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)



Tell Me Your Favourite Part (#litres_trial_promo)



Connect With Kendall Ryan: (#litres_trial_promo)



Also by Kendall Ryan (#litres_trial_promo)



About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)




Chapter 1 (#u5bf33c33-24e7-536d-bf4e-70d6be15e57a)


Avery

Thirty minutes into my first college party, and I’m ready to smack someone in the face with a shovel. My first problem is that I’m wearing the most ridiculous shade of pink. Madison’s doing, of course. Tugging at the hem of my hideous shirt, I plaster a fake smile on my face and try to act as if I own this new look.

Compared to Madison in her tight jeans, low-cut black top, and sexy three-inch heels, I look cute in my pink outfit. And I hate that word. Cute is what you use to describe a teddy bear or a three-year-old, and it only demonstrates that I don’t belong at this frat party filled with gorgeous half-dressed girls grinding on the dance floor. Fuck my life.

Sighing, I push a chunk of hair behind my shoulder and take another sip of the now warm beer in my hand. Madison thrusts her arm around my waist, bumping her hip against mine in time with the music. I smile at her attempt.

‘Need more to drink?’ she asks above hip-hop music so loud I can feel the beat vibrating in my chest.

I look into my still full red plastic cup. ‘I’m good.’ I hate the taste of beer, but manage to take another sip. Tonight is all about blending in. And something tells me being the stone-sober girl with a perma-frown etched into her face isn’t the way to do it.

Madison and Noah are convinced this will be my year. They have grand visions of me loose and carefree, thriving in the college social scene despite the contrary evidence I’d presented them as a freshman last year. When they’d dressed me in this pink top earlier – which Noah claimed was actually rosy coral – they’d declared me a ripe peach, ready for the picking. I’d barely kept the scowl off my face at the euphemism.

‘Mancandy, two o’clock,’ Madison announces over the music.

I take my time, subtly turning in the direction she indicates. A group of three guys stands talking near the DJ and, honestly, they’re all cute. Either that or my mind won’t let me distinguish individual features since my body has no plans of getting involved with anyone. Ever.

‘Which one?’ I ask, playing along with Madison so I don’t disappoint her yet again. I know I make a terrible wing-woman. Noah fills the role a heck of a lot better than me. A fact he’s super proud of.

Madison glances at the group of preppy college boys. ‘The pretty one.’

Pretty?

Noah steals a glance at the group of guys too. ‘Damn, that boy is fucking delish.’ He shakes his head.

‘Major player, though.’ Madison rolls her eyes.

‘The pretty ones always are,’ Noah adds.

I can’t resist looking again for this so-called pretty boy, and when I do, icy blue eyes meet mine and he zeroes in on me with a smirk. His lingering gaze rakes boldly over my body, and I feel the nervous lurch of my stomach. The sights and sounds of the room fade away. Yeah, he’s pretty. That’s the only way to describe him. He’s roughly six-feet tall and lean, but with a hint of muscle. His hair is a warm mix of brown and blond, and his eyes are such a striking blue, it shouldn’t have been possible without colored contact lenses. Not to mention the ridiculously long eyelashes that I’d happily murder him for in his sleep.

A warm tingle creeps up my chest. It’s a decidedly unwelcome feeling and I swallow a large gulp of beer hoping to extinguish whatever the hell that sensation was. I want to look away, but I can’t. He has on dark jeans that fit his lean frame perfectly – slouching a bit on his hips but held in place by a worn leather belt. His T-shirt is plain and navy blue. I like that he isn’t overdressed for this thing, like some of the other gel-haired, button-up-shirt-wearing guys circling us. His hair is unruly and rumpled like he’d been in a fight with his comb. I have the urge to brush the strands out of his face. Or use it to tug him in to kiss me. Where did that thought come from?

Pretty Boy’s eyes stay locked on mine. One corner of his full mouth pulls upward. Crap. He caught me staring. I can feel my fake smile wavering. As my cheeks heat up, I look down at my feet that are squeezed into Madison’s heels. He has to know how gorgeous he is. Guys like him always do. And he is firmly in male-model territory, so he can’t fault me for looking.

‘C’mon, Avery, dance with us. You’re being a downer,’ Madison whines. When I blow her off a second time, she gives up and drags Noah to the center of the living room. She sways and grinds to the beat, obviously hoping Pretty Boy will notice. They gesture for me to join them, but as much as I love them both, this is so not my scene. Noah and Madison are both theater majors, so to say they are dramatic is an understatement. Sometimes I wonder if I cling to them because their flamboyant personalities mask my non-existent one. I watch them shimmy and shake for a few minutes before sneaking another glance at Pretty Boy in the corner.

He’s still watching me, so I give him my best attempt at a smile. I’m pretty good at hiding that I’m wounded, that my life blew up in a spectacular scandal my senior year, and that I still walk around fearful what happened that night will be uncovered. I hold the I-could-care-less-smile in place. I’m just a regular college sophomore in a hideous pink shirt. Move along folks. Nothing to see here.

My cheeks still burn and my heart pounds in time with the music. It’s too damn hot in here. Too hot to be wearing jeans and a three-quarter sleeve top. Pushing a damp tendril of hair from my face, I pull a breath into my lungs. It only confirms what my body already knows. Even with the show going on in front of him, Pretty Boy is still closely watching me.

The way his eyes lock on mine from across the room holds the promise of something much more intimate than two random partygoers. His deep blue gaze penetrates me and eats away at the calm, cool demeanor I fight to maintain. He looks at me like he knows me all too well, like he sees I’m an imposter. Maybe it’s because he’s hiding something too. His friends laugh around him while he looks on, bored and unimpressed. I snap my gaze away.

Guys like him bug me for numerous reasons. I hate his overconfidence and the way he’s completely ignoring the girl grinding up on him. Like he couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to anyone he deems unworthy of his affections. Cocky bastard. If he doesn’t want her he should send her on her way, put her out of her misery. Blond bimbo or not, she’s still a person.

Watching the poor girl conjures up memories I can’t deal with. I hate that I was once that girl. Pretty Boy continues to rake his gaze over every inch of me. Well, if this jerk thinks I’m an easy conquest, he’s sadly mistaken. Lifting my chin, I avert my gaze and force my smile to remain in place. I throw a glance at Madison and Noah who are full-on impersonating Lady Gaga at this point, and deciding my friends won’t miss me, I make my way through the crowd toward the back door. And freedom.




Chapter 2 (#u5bf33c33-24e7-536d-bf4e-70d6be15e57a)


Jase

The blond skims her nails over my chest and lowers herself down until her face is level with my groin. She bites her bottom lip and blinks up at me seductively. Too bad this is doing absolutely fucking nothing for me. I attempt a smile, but my face feels tight and unnatural. I grip her arms and haul her up, bending to whisper near her ear. ‘Sorry, baby. Not tonight.’ Disappointment crosses her features, but she nods, and walks away.

A year ago this would have been my favorite way to spend a Saturday night. Girls? Check. Drinking? Check. Raging party with my friends? Double Check. Not so much anymore. I don’t miss drinking too much and waking up next to someone I can’t remember.

But the main reason this holds no appeal? I was plastered the night I got the call from my dad last semester. I had to wait until morning before attempting the three-hour drive home to see my mom, all pale and gray in that hospital bed. After spending a tortured night, shattered without any way to fix it, drinking becomes a far less important priority.

My best friend Trey leans over. ‘Damn man, you don’t even have to try. It’s like you set off some radar that attracts them. Come. Fuck. Me,’ he says in a robotic voice.

I shove his shoulder. ‘Shut up, you know it’s not my fault.’

‘No, the superior genetics bred into you by the Congressman and the MILF ensure you get ass easily and often.’ He shakes his head. ‘Fucking lucky bastard.’

I chuckle, brushing off his comment. The truth is I didn’t ask for the attention, and I rarely sleep around anymore. But I’d earned my reputation during my freshman and sophomore years banging pretty much every girl in sight. And now I don’t do much to dispel the rumors. It’s nice, though, not be on the outs with one guy or another in the house because of whose girlfriend or sister I’d slept with. I’m actually enjoying the reprieve.

I look up and spot a pretty dark-haired girl in the corner. She isn’t dressed like the other girls here – her tits and ass aren’t on display—and strangely it makes her even more attractive. Her eyes widen and she forces a smile. It’s obvious this isn’t her scene.

I take comfort knowing I’m not the only one faking it tonight. She’s not the type of girl the old me would’ve bothered with. Meaning her panties aren’t ready to drop to her knees at my command. But somehow that only makes me more interested. She tugs at the hem of her pink shirt, looking ready to flee.

‘Just wanted to warn you…Stacia’s here and was looking for you earlier,’ Trey says.

Shit fuck. ‘Just what I wanted to deal with tonight. Drunk Stacia.’ Sloppy Stacia, crying Stacia, horny Stacia, take your pick. She’s usually at least one, if not all of the above.

‘You guys broken up again?’

‘For good this time.’

He raises his glass in a mock salute. ‘Stay strong, man.’

I plan to. We’ve broken up and gotten back to together so many times, I don’t know which way is up with that girl. We dated for a year. Why? I couldn’t tell you. I never liked her personality, but I did like her body. Still do, if I’m being honest. And she always shared that with me freely. But hanging out, listening to her talk about inconsequential bullshit… gah, even the sound of her voice frays my nerves.

I glance around the room, looking for the pretty dark-haired girl again. Not spotting her, I lean back against the wall so I can see into the kitchen. People fill pretty much every square inch of the kitchen, living and dining rooms – the only rooms we keep unlocked during parties. And the line for the bathroom is too long, so she couldn’t have gone in there. Considering her friends are still dancing in the center of the living room, spilling beer onto our already disgusting carpeting, I know she’s not far. That girl looks far too innocent to be wandering around a frat house alone. Damn. I hand Trey my beer and go off in search of her.

I step onto the back deck, and it’s so dark out, I don’t see her at first. The moon is just a sliver and she’s facing away from me, sitting on the bottom step. Reddish-brown hair cascades over her shoulders, falling nearly to her waist and blending in against the dark sky. Her back stiffens at the sound of the music flooding the peaceful night. I close the sliding glass door behind me, muting the noise but not blocking it out completely.

The T.I. song playing inside is about giving her whatever she’d like. A testament I currently share, looking at this pretty little thing in front of me.

She turns and catches my eyes. Her expression isn’t the reaction I’m expecting. She seems mildly annoyed…bothered by my presence. It’s not the usual effect I have on females.

‘You shouldn’t be out here alone.’ I take a step closer.

‘Why, are you planning on trying something? Because I can scream really loud.’

The old me would’ve made some comment about getting her sexy ass in my bed to see exactly how loud I could make her scream, but somehow I know she’s not looking for me to be that guy. It’s refreshing. I move closer to her into the cool night air, relieved that I don’t have to put on the smooth guy act.

‘Can I join you?’ I ask.

She eyes me carefully, her gaze lingering a moment too long. For a second I wonder if she’s going to say no. I can’t remember the last time a girl said no to me. She chews on her lip, trying to read me, then clasps her hands together in her lap. ‘You can stay, if you behave yourself.’

I chuckle softly. What was she expecting me to do? She either has major trust issues, or she’s caught wind of my reputation. ‘Do you have mace on you? Maybe a rape whistle tucked under your shirt?’

Her eyes narrow slightly. ‘Ha, ha,’ she says dryly.

I sink to the bottom step beside her and suddenly question what the hell I’m doing out here with her. This girl is sure as fuck too sweet for me to mess around with. But I know that isn’t what I want tonight. If it was, I’d be upstairs in my bedroom with the blond from earlier, and maybe her brunette friend too.

‘I’m Jase.’ I extend my hand toward her.

She looks at it, but makes no move to give me hers.

‘I’ll just call you Whistle if you don’t tell me your name.’

Her eyes are still blazing on mine as she straightens her shoulders. ‘If you’re trying to pick me up, save us both the time. My answer’s no.’

My shoulders vibrate with a soft laugh. ‘Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you, Whistle? I wasn’t going to ask you out, but your little speech was cute.’

She fixes her mouth in a tight line. ‘My name’s Avery.’

I’ve never met an Avery. The name is pretty, and unique – just like her. Her makeup is natural, subtle compared to the high sheen gloss of the blond’s lips from earlier. She’s pretty but not overdone.

‘I haven’t seen you here before.’

‘That’s because I don’t typically come to these things.’

She picks up her cup of beer, but doesn’t drink from it. It’s like she needs something to do with her hands. I know the feeling. I feel oddly clumsy and unsure around her – not something I’m used to.

I don’t need to ask why she doesn’t come to frat parties. It’s obvious this isn’t her scene. ‘Do you need another drink?’

She shakes her head. ‘Who am I kidding? I’m not going to drink this.’ She dumps the contents of the cup into the grass before setting the empty cup beside her.

‘Not a fan of beer? I think I could find you something else if you want it…’

‘I’m not a fan of drinking, really.’ Her voice is soft, like there’s some faraway memory pulling at her attention.

Now that I’ve turned to face her, I can’t look away. Her eyes are a mesmerizing shade of green and her hair looks faintly red when it catches the light. She has soft, delicate features, high cheek bones, a full mouth and pretty wide-set eyes. She’s lovely.

I drag a hand through my hair and turn away because I can’t seem to stop fucking staring at her. Stop being a creep, Jase. Instead I look out into the backyard – littered with red plastic cups, beer bottles and cigarettes butts.

‘Why not?’

‘It makes you do stupid things,’ Avery says after several long moments.

I simply nod. She has no idea how close to home that statement hits. Did she do stupid things in her past, or is she basing that on the actions of the people inside?

‘Why are you out here?’ she asks.

‘I needed some air. What about you?’

‘The same, I guess.’ She attempts a smile, but I can tell she’s just as out of practice at it as I am.

There’s something sad about her eyes, and it makes me want to kick the ass of whoever put that look there. Was it some drunk jerk that hurt her? Maybe that’s why she doesn’t like alcohol.

‘I took last semester off,’ I say, trying to keep the conversation going. ‘And even though I live in a frat house, I guess I’m not ready for the start of the new semester party.’

She looks over at me. ‘You’re a Delta Sig?’

I nod, glad that she doesn’t ask why I took last semester off.

She looks back out into the yard and releases a deep sigh.

This girl is different, and I’m completely thrown off my game. But I kind of like it. She refuses to drool all over me, and I respect her for that. I hate when girls who know nothing about me act as if we’re freaking soul mates. It’s such a turn off. But Avery seems different. I want to know her.

Avery

Jase remains silent beside me, and I can sense there’s something more on his mind than just escaping the party inside – only I have no idea what it is, or why he’s chosen me as company. I grin to myself thinking Madison will be proud that I’m out here talking to the Pretty Boy. And pretty, he is. It’s almost too much to handle having him this close and personal. He smells freakin’ incredible too, like a hint of spicy cologne and a trace of laundry detergent. I want to bury my nose in his neck and inhale, get closer to that delicious scent. Of course I do no such thing.

‘What’s the most interesting thing about you?’ he asks suddenly.

I am so not telling him that. His question is an odd one, but I go with it. ‘I was adopted.’

‘Really?’ His gaze flicks to mine.

Whenever I tell people, their eyes light up in wonder, like I’m suddenly special, different. I don’t know if they expect me to be from some cool foreign country, or maybe have celebrities as parents, but the truth is nothing like that. ‘Not from anywhere interesting. Just Colorado.’

‘That’s cool. Have you ever been back to visit?’

‘Nope. My dads wanted to take me there as a graduation present, but I don’t know…’ I shrug. ‘I’d convinced them I didn’t want to go. I actually did. Desperately. But I felt guilty for wanting to. They got uncomfortable whenever I brought up anything about my birthmom, as if they thought they weren’t enough for me,’ I finish. I have no idea why I’m unloading all this on a guy I just met. It seems Pretty Boy possesses the rare ability to coax the truth from me. Not good.

To his credit though, Jase doesn’t react at all to the two dads thing. He just nods and continues picking at the fraying string on his jeans, like he’s listening thoughtfully, both to the things I’m saying and what I’m not saying.

The truth is I’d never met my birthmom, but I’d always wanted to. Depending on the mood I was in, I would picture my mom as an elegant model, or during the tougher times of dealing with my adoption, as a homeless bag-lady.

My first impression of Pretty Boy Jase when I watched him inside with the blond was that he was your typical party-loving frat boy. Now, watching him silently pick at the hem of his jeans, I’m not so sure. He seems more comfortable sitting out here in the dark than being inside with his friends.

‘So, what’s the most interesting thing about you?’ I ask, returning his strange question. He chuckles softly, the timbre of his deep voice rolling over me like a seductive wave. ‘Hmm.’ He considers my question for a moment, looking up at the sky. ‘I don’t know. But I kind of want to find out, you know?’

I nod. What a pair we make sitting out here alone in the dark. I’m running from my past, and he’s trying to discover his future. Either way, it seems we’re both over the idea of pointless partying. As the bash rages on inside, I find solace in the knowledge that I’m not alone.

Jase

I need to direct the attention back to her before I say something stupid. And the way her bright green eyes gaze into mine, who knows what I could admit to if pushed. ‘So why are you really out here hiding?’

Her eyes flick nervously to mine, like I’ve uncovered some big secret. Only I have no clue what it is. Avery straightens her shoulders and lets out a sigh. ‘I’m not hiding. I just needed a break.’

She acts like being at a party is work, but I can’t argue. I’d rather be out here with her too. For a moment she watches me from the corner of her eye. Rather than stare at her like I want to, I continue picking at the blade of grass I’ve pulled from the ground.

‘Why are you bored with life?’ she asks.

She has no way of knowing the truth behind her words. Before I can respond, the door opens behind us, blasting us with an unwelcome wave of music. Avery and I both turn to see who’s interrupted our hideout.

It’s Trey. Shit fuck. He staggers toward us, his eyes dancing between me and Avery with interest. ‘Stacia’s looking for you,’ he announces.

I cringe as Avery’s eyebrows raise, no doubt wondering who Stacia is.

‘I’m busy right now.’

Trey continues, ‘Come back inside, man. I need you to divert some of the pussy you attract over to me.’ He takes a deep chug from his cup. ‘Hell, I’ll even take your leftovers.’ His eyes dart to Avery’s. ‘And considering this one’s still talking to you, I’m guessing you haven’t fucked her yet.’

Avery cringes at his words, and in two seconds flat I’m on my feet.

Avery

Jase stands suddenly and shoves a hand against his friend’s shoulder, hard enough to knock him back several steps. ‘Go back inside, Trey. Drunk ass,’ he mutters to himself.

Trey drags himself back inside, but his visit is a wake-up call. I really shouldn’t be sitting alone in the dark with a guy I don’t know. A guy who, according to his friend, definitely knows his way around a vagina. That’s the last thing I need. When I stand, I see disappointment cross Jase’s features.

‘I’m gonna go,’ I say.

He nods and watches me leave, his hands fisted tightly at his sides.

Back inside, the heat and music are too much. I find Madison and Noah where I left them in the living room, still dancing, only drunker than before. I tug on Madison’s arm. ‘Hey!’ I shout over the music. ‘I’m ready to go.’

She stops dancing to frown at me, but doesn’t argue. ‘Okay.’ She grabs Noah’s hand. ‘Noah-baby, come on!’

He grins, as easy going as ever, and follows us to the front door. I steal one last glance behind me and spot Jase situated on the couch, a different blond perched in his lap, his hands by his sides, doing nothing to stop the lap dance. His expression is bored, and when his eyes find mine, he frowns.

‘Let’s go.’ I tug Madison, more forcefully this time, and we head out into the night. I hate the feeling of Jase’s eyes on my back as I retreat. I hate that I thought we shared something outside.

When we reach the dorm, Noah follows Madison and me into our room, which has become a common occurrence. He hates his roommate this year. Apparently he was paired with some gay-bashing jock. Which sucks. Madison and I have told him to go to housing services and try to get switched. But each time he just shrugs. I kick off my shoes and fall onto my narrow twin bed. I’m ready to crash, not used to staying up so late, but apparently Madison and Noah are still in the dancing spirit. Madison turns up the music and they begin rehearsing the dance they’ve choreographed for Call Me Maybe. Even though I’ve seen it a million times, when Noah steps forward and sashays across our tiny room, it still makes me laugh. God, I love these two. It’s times like this I wonder, why can’t I just hide in my bubble? I have the two best friends a girl could want.

What’s so wrong with being the careful sophomore who’s best known for turning in her homework early? Or the girl who’s always around on weekends to let streams of drunk kids back into the dorms at night because she has nothing better to do? Oh God, yeah, that was bad. But the question is… do I want to change my reputation? I’ve worked hard to earn it – to stay under the radar. And I know if I jump onboard with the Madison school of crazy, all that would disappear.

I’ve achieved the anonymity I crave– so why do I feel so restless?

It’s why I choose this middle-of-nowhere-Iowa private college – because practically no one from my high school was coming here, which made it all the more appealing. Safe. Even though my dads wanted me to follow in their footsteps, go to State and become a Viking, I convinced them that this was what I wanted. Now I’m not so sure.

I replay my conversation with Jase over in my mind. What was it about him that felt so familiar?

Madison prances over to me, lip syncing with gusto. ‘Here’s my number, call me maybe.’

My mouth curls into its usual crooked grin, watching them sing their hearts out. Once the song is over, Madison removes her bra from under her shirt and thrusts off her jeans. She has zero modesty – in front of me, Noah, or anyone really.

Madison is my opposite in every way. I wear my hair loose like a curtain to hide behind –the longer, the better. Madison’s is cropped close to her shoulders in a sleek bob that she threatens to chop on a regular basis. She’s also blessed with a flawless olive complexion, while I’m pale except for the fine dusting of freckles across the bridge of my nose and top of my chest. Speaking of chests, hers fits politely inside her shirt, two nicely rounded lady bumps. Mine? Not so much. My boobs and I have never gotten along. Mine spill over a C, but I refuse to buy a bigger size, so I’ve taken to wearing sports bras exclusively since last year. Though it’s not because I care for jogging. They’re just more manageable this way. Of course Madison had a field day with that information, outraged that I’d taken to keeping my lady parts strapped down. She even tried to get Noah involved in making a case to free my boobage, to which he replied, ‘Eh. I could take ’em or leave ’em. But I have heard guys like those things.’ We all cracked up laughing, and that was pretty much the end of that conversation.

Madison flops down onto my bed, forcing me to scoot over. Noah stretches out on our futon, where he’s regularly been sleeping.

‘Did you have fun tonight, Avery?’ Madison asks.

I nod. ‘Yeah. It wasn’t bad.’

She chuckles. ‘If there’s no one who interested you at that party tonight, you’ve got bigger issues than I can help you with.’

‘There was someone,’ I admit, my voice tiny.

‘Who?’

‘His name was Jase.’

‘Jase Owens?’

I nod sheepishly.

Her eyes fly to Noah’s, which are just as wide and concerned. ‘Oh honey,’ he frowns.

‘What?’ I ask, keeping my voice level.

Madison rolls her eyes and lets out a huff. ‘Noah.’ She motions for him to explain, anchoring a hand on her hip. Uh-oh, this isn’t good.

‘How do I put this….’ He taps his index finger against his chin, his expression grim. ‘He’s a shark, babe. You need a guppie.’

I frown. Was Jase a shark like they thought? After talking with him on the deck, I didn’t think so. But then I remembered the large-chested girl who planted herself in his lap just minutes later. Her breasts weren’t bigger than mine, but she had no problem putting them out there in people’s faces. And Jase did nothing to remove her from his personal space.

Madison pats the top of his head. ‘Well said, tootsie roll.’

‘Relax guys, it’s not like I’m gonna do anything about it.’

Madison’s eyebrows dart up. ‘Baby, you wouldn’t even know what to do with a guy anyway.’

I don’t argue. I don’t tell her she’s wrong. It doesn’t matter because it’s not like I’m planning on getting involved with anyone. Especially Jase. Getting close to people means running the risk of exposing my past. And that is not okay with me. Not even Madison and Noah know, God love ’em.

‘Night guys.’ I flick off my lamp, plunging us into darkness and curl onto my side, letting the numb feeling overtake me. I can’t believe I’d opened up to Jase tonight – thinking we’d shared some sort of moment, telling him about my adoption. That was dumb. No sense in getting my hopes up about Jase, I was safer alone anyway.




Chapter 3 (#u5bf33c33-24e7-536d-bf4e-70d6be15e57a)


Jase

I hadn’t expected to see Avery again, which is why the flash of auburn hair leaves me momentarily stunned. Seeing her in the daylight, I realize she’s even prettier than I first realized. But as quickly as I spot her, she’s gone – diving for cover behind a dumpster. ‘Avery?’ I round the corner and see her couched down, knees drawn up to her chest.

Her eyes dart up and meet mine and she lets out a soft groan. She doesn’t say anything, just remains hunkered down next to the dumpster. I hold out my hand, offering to help.

Her gaze lifts from mine, searching for something in the distance before she takes my hand.

‘Why are you hiding?’

‘I wasn’t,’ she says quickly.

I lift one eyebrow. I can feel her hand trembling in mine.

‘Can you just get me out of here?’ Her voice has a raspy, pleading quality to it that I can’t refuse.

‘Where do you want to go?’

Her gaze darts behind me. ‘Anywhere but here.’

Sadness flickers in her eyes and instantly I know I’d gladly fuck up whoever had hurt her. ‘Come on. If we cut through there,’ I point to a trail at the edge of campus, ‘my house isn’t far.’

She nods, and glances behind her once more before following me.

I have no idea what spooked her, but she’s pale and jittery, like she might dart away from me at any second. I’m not sure why, but I can’t let her do that. I reluctantly release her hand, but she keeps pace beside me. ‘Do you have a class right now?’ I ask, needing to break the silence.

She shakes her head. ‘I’m done for the day.’

Damn, only eleven in the morning and she’s done for the day? I don’t take classes that start before noon.

When we reach the Delta Sig house, she hesitates at the front door before stepping inside. It’s trashed, as usual.

‘This is weird – being in a frat house during the light of day.’

I smile. ‘Come on, I’ll show you around.’

‘How many guys live here?’ She follows me through the living room. There’s a random dude sleeping on the couch, and Avery looks slightly concerned at this, but continues past him.

‘Um, sixteen, I think. The house is just for the juniors and seniors.’ We stop in the kitchen and say hi to Drake and Jared. I figure if I introduce her to a few of my roommates – witnesses – she’ll be more comfortable following me up to my room. Of course I don’t like the way their eyes travel over her sleek jean-clad hips, visually molesting her. ‘Come on.’ I take her hand again, which has become a natural reaction to her even though I’ve always hated holding hands, and guide her to the stairs.

She stops cold at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes full of questions. I turn to face her, resisting the urge to brush the strands of hair back from her shoulders. ‘I pretty much only hang out in my room. The rest of the house is nasty.’

She smiles crookedly, unable to disagree that my house is disgusting. ‘Okay. But no funny business.’

‘Right. Unless you initiate it, in which case I make no promises to stop it.’

She swats my arm. ‘I won’t be starting anything, so don’t you worry.’

She follows me upstairs, and I’m glad she can’t see the dumb-ass smile planted on my face. She’s not at all like other girls I hang out with, and I like that. We climb the three flights of stairs in silence and when I push open the creaky door to the attic, Avery steps around me to peek inside. Taking the unfinished attic meant I had my own room. It didn’t matter that I didn’t have heat or air conditioning, I had my own space.

I watch as she takes in the queen-sized bed, neatly made in cream and navy bedding, desk and chair in the corner, a tall dresser and my acoustic on a stand in the corner. The room is large and open, with dark plank-wood floors and beamed ceilings. It’s freezing in the winter and stifling hot in the summer, but its September, so for the time being, it’s perfect. ‘What do you think?’

She wanders over to my desk and looks at the corkboard above it where I’ve tacked various photos, quotes, and clips from magazines. There’s a photo from last summer of me and my mom at the beach – before she went cuckoo for Cocoa-Puffs – and another of Trey and me having an impromptu jam session.

Avery points to the one of my mom. ‘You look like her. Same eyelashes.’

‘I know.’ Everyone always freaks over my eyelashes for some damn reason. It’s embarrassing.

Then she turns to survey the rest of my room. ‘You make your bed?’

I nod. ‘Habit I guess. I had to every day growing up. It was the one chore I had to do, and my mom would freak if I didn’t.’

She bites her lip, trying not to smile.

‘Come sit down.’ I slide her backpack from her shoulders and set it on the floor. She sits on the edge of my bed, while I pull out the desk chair for myself. ‘So, are you going to tell me what you were hiding from?’

She looks down and the terrified expression on her face is back.

Shit fuck.

‘Hey, I’m sorry. It’s okay.’ I hold up my hands in surrender. ‘You don’t have to tell me.’

She swallows, the tension in her shoulders dissipating slightly as she draws a deep breath. ‘Thanks.’

‘For what?’ I pull the chair closer to where she’s seated on the bed.

‘For being cool with my…crap.’ She twists her hands in her lap. ‘I guess I expected you to be different. The Jase Owens I’ve heard about is a major player and always…’ She pauses, biting her bottom lip.

‘Always what?’

Her cheeks blush the prettiest shade of pink. And on her fair skin, there’s no denying her embarrassment. ‘Horny,’ she finishes.

I crack a slight grin. ‘Well that part’s true, babe.’

Her eyes widen just slightly.

A sudden knock on my bedroom door interrupts our silence. ‘Hey man,’ a muffled voice calls through the door. It’s Trey. I’m sure he’s been briefed that I’m up here with a girl, so there must be a significant reason for him to interrupt.

‘Come in.’

His gaze registers Avery perched on the side of my bed like she’s ready to bolt, but his eyes slip past her to me. He doesn’t recognize her from Saturday night. Not surprising, given he was drunk off his ass.

‘Stacia’s here,’ he says.

Avery’s head turns to me, clearly wondering who Stacia is.

‘I’m busy.’

Trey chuckles. ‘Come out and deal with her pretty ass.’

‘Fuck man, tell her I’m with someone.’

‘You know she’ll just wait. That girl’s got no shame.’

Damn. He’s right.

‘Okay, tell her to come up.’




Chapter 4 (#u5bf33c33-24e7-536d-bf4e-70d6be15e57a)


Avery

Hiding behind that dumpster seemed important at the time – I couldn’t have someone from my past spotting me, so I’d dived for cover. But now, awaiting someone named Stacia, I question what in the hell I’m doing in Jase’s bedroom. This isn’t me. I don’t follow guys home. I certainly don’t make myself at home on their beds. This is just asking for trouble. And now clearly he has a girlfriend, which makes me look like an even bigger idiot.

Trey leaves and Jase makes no move to explain. Since it’s too late to escape, I wait. A few seconds later, we hear footsteps climbing the stairs to the attic.

A petite girl with long blond hair rounds the corner and her megawatt smile fades as soon as she sees Jase isn’t alone.

‘Oh. Hey, Jase,’ she recovers and leans down to plant a kiss against his cheek.

God, could this be more awkward? I want to die.

Jase, having perfected his bored-with-life look, nods once at her and then flicks his gaze to mine. ‘This is Avery. Avery, this is Stacia.’

Stacia turns, but her smile was only reserved for Jase because it fades as she takes me in. There’s something she hates about me being up here with Jase, and the inner bitch inside me enjoys that fact. This girl just reeks of fake, and I’m instantly not a fan.

‘I didn’t know you had someone over.’ Stacia’s voice goes soft as she turns to Jase.

‘Well, I do. Did you need something?’ His voice is cool, unemotional.

Damn. This can’t be his girlfriend. Otherwise, he’s a real asshole. Of course I’m dying to know who she is, but I won’t ask. Not sure I could handle hearing that right now. Jase has treated me with nothing but kindness and respect, and I sort of want to continue thinking the best of him.

‘No. Just wanted to say hi.’ Stacia lifts one shoulder, then drops it and I can’t help but notice the way her chest sticks out when she does. The move is practiced, beyond obvious. God, this girl is annoying me in all of thirty seconds. Before the awkward silence has time to fully descend on us, Stacia bounds over toward me. ‘You look familiar.’

My heart stops.

Literally ceases to beat in my chest.

I hope to God she has no idea why I look familiar. I pull in a breath and shrug, working to convince myself it’s just a coincidence. She can’t know.

Desperately needing to change the subject, I ask, ‘How do you and Jase know each other?’

Jase answers for her. ‘Ex-girlfriend.’

Oh.

‘Yeah, some days I’m his ex-girlfriend, some days I’m…what am I exactly, Jase, on those nights you call me and beg me to come over?’

‘You wish, Stacia.’

She laughs, her mouth curving into a victorious smile. ‘Kay, Jase.’

My stomach cramps.

Jase rises from the chair, watching her with guarded eyes, like she’s a wild and unpredictable animal.

Stacia laughs again, nervously this time. ‘I can see you’re trying to impress your new friend, so I’ll go.’

His jaw tenses as he bites back whatever he wants to say. He steers Stacia by the elbow toward the door. ‘Avery and I need to study.’

Stacia pouts but lets him guide her out into the hall.

Once the door is firmly shut, I look at Jase. ‘Are you sure it’s okay I’m here?’ I ask.

He laughs uneasily and crosses the room toward me. ‘You’re saving my ass right now. So thank you.’

‘How?’

‘By helping me get rid of Stacia. She’d hang out all afternoon if I let her.’

I rise from the bed, wondering if he doesn’t want company and if I should head out too. ‘Oh…did you want me to…’

His firm hands on my shoulders stop me from going any farther. ‘I want you to stay.’

The warm weight of his hands is a constant reminder that I’m not as immune to his charms as I’d like. I smile up at him like a lovesick fangirl. Idiot. I silently berate myself that I’ve joined the Jase fan club. ‘Okay.’

‘Sit. Stay. Get comfortable.’

I sink down to his bed once again, chemistry crackling between us, no matter how much I might want to deny it. ‘Okay.’

‘I’ve got psych homework I could do. And you can hide out here, so just relax, alright?’

I want to ask him more about Stacia, but that may lead him to ask why I was hiding, so I zip it and relax on his large queen-sized bed. It’s much more plush and comfy than my narrow rock-hard mattress back at the dorms. Mmm. His bed smells like him. It’s a scent I instantly decide could be bottled and sold.

Jase turns on soft music and grabs his textbook and a stack of papers from the desk, balancing everything on his lap so he can face me. I grab the book from my early childhood development class and bravely settle back against his mountain of pillows. My eyes dart up to Jase’s but he doesn’t seem to mind in the least that I’ve commandeered his bed. In fact, I swear there’s a hint of smile tugging his lips.

‘So what’s your major?’ he asks.

‘Social work. What about you?’ For some reason I expect him to say undecided, but he surprises me.

‘Psychology. Mostly because it pisses my dad off.’

‘What do you mean?’

He grins. ‘He’s a mayor and wants to make a run for congress. He’s always been obsessed with politics…so of course he wanted me to major in political science, or at least business.’

I nod. My dads didn’t really care what my major was. And when I told them I wanted to work in the adoption field, they helped me research the social work program.

‘It was either that or something artistic, and since I’m shit at art and just okay at music, I figured psychology was a safe bet.’

‘Do you at least like your classes?’ I ask.

‘Yeah, turns out I love it. People are the most interesting thing to me anyway, so it worked out.’

‘Did you succeed in pissing off your dad?’

He nods. ‘Oh yeah. He blew a gasket.’

We both smile. Why do I get the feeling that Jase is letting me in on things he doesn’t normally share? And why do I like it so much? I focus on my book for a few minutes, but reading about attachment disorder is pretty dry, and Jase’s mouthwatering goodness is right there on display. It’s hard not to sneak glances at him from time to time. A tiny crease marks his brow as he concentrates, and his lips move when he reads – something he makes look both adorable and sexy at the same time.

‘So, Stacia’s really your ex?’

‘Yeah. But she doesn’t act like it. And of course my frat brothers give me shit about it all the time.’

It’s clear she’d like to take a ride on Jase, ex or not. Hell, maybe she still does, like she implied. I force my eyes back to my book and relax into the inviting bedding. After a few moments of trying my damnedest to read this textbook, I feel Jase’s eyes on me again.

‘Do you ever think about meeting your…um, the lady that gave birth to you?’ he asks, his brows pulled together.

‘My birthmom?’ I was used to teaching people the correct terminology. He nods.

‘Yeah. All the time, actually.’

‘So why don’t you?’

I shrug. Lots of reasons. I’m not sure how much I should tell him, or how much he really wants to know, but Jase is leaning forward on his elbows, like he’s genuinely interested. I don’t typically talk about this stuff. But I trust him enough to let him in, which is odd given that I’ve only known him such a short time and everyone has warned me about him. ‘Now that I’m nineteen, I can go and get the records from my adoption without my dads needing to sign off …’ I release a slow sigh. It’s something I’ve thought about doing so many times, yet some unknown force holds me back.

‘It’s not a big deal. I’ll figure out what to do eventually,’ I add, hoping to lighten the moment.

‘Well, let me know if I can help,’ he says softly.

‘Why would you do that?’

He shrugs. ‘Why not?’

I’m genuinely baffled by his interest in helping me. I know I’m not the best company, only Jase doesn’t seem to mind. That’s probably because he doesn’t know much about me. I duck my head at this realization, drawing my chin to my chest. ‘You wouldn’t like me if you knew more about my past.’

He doesn’t press for details. He just remains quiet and reaches for my hand. ‘I doubt that could be true. And besides, I have waaay more baggage than you, so we’re good.’

Yes, but his reputation is out in the open. He isn’t hiding behind a curtain, waiting for some horrible big-reveal like I am. Jase is still watching me and his soft expression sends a warm tingling through my chest. I have no idea why it is that Jase Owens – reported manwhore – would have this effect on me. Yet I can’t deny that he does. Which is exactly why I’ll need to be extra careful around him.

I blink my eyes open to find Jase standing above me. ‘Avery, wake up. You fell asleep.’ His hand on my shoulder gently rouses me. What? Noooo. I shoot up in the bed, stunned and bleary-eyed. I fell asleep? This is so not me. ‘I should go.’ I leap up from the bed and grab my backpack, hefting it up over one shoulder. ‘Do you have class?’

Jase casually looks at his alarm clock. ‘My psych class started twenty minutes ago. I didn’t want to wake you.’

Oh. ‘Jase, don’t skip class for me.’

Jase steps closer, closing the distance between us. I have to crane my neck to look up at him, and my pulse spikes at the sudden closeness. ‘It’s okay.’ He straightens the backpack straps, his hand lingering on my shoulders. ‘This was more fun.’

What is okay about any of this, I have no idea. His gaze lingers on mine. I should move away, but I won’t. ‘Can you afford to miss class?’

He lets out a short laugh. ‘I’m not dumb, Avery. I had a near perfect grade-point average last semester. And it’s only the second week of class. It’s fine.’

My surprised expression gives me away.

‘What? Not what you expected?’

I turn and flee without another word, needing to use my body for something useful like descending the stairs so I don’t do something stupid like lift up on my toes and kiss him like I want to. Once we reach the front door, Jase grabs my backpack, halting my escape.

‘Hey, stay out from behind dumpsters, okay?’ He brushes the loose strands of hair back from my face, tucking them gently behind my ear.

‘I’ll try.’

When I get back to the dorm, Madison shoots me a suspicious glare. ‘Where were you all afternoon?’

I casually set my backpack on my bed, my mind grasping at a possible explanation. Knowing I’m horrible at thinking on my feet, I break down and admit I was with Jase, making it sound like we casually ran into each other – which we did. And going home with Jase then was just a no-brainer.

When I spotted Marcy Capri earlier, I knew I needed to get out of there before a panic attack took over. She didn’t look dangerous, with her frizzy blond hair and faded black yoga pants, but she was. She held a link to my past. She knew the secret that I’ve worked hard to ensure didn’t follow me here, didn’t own me. And I know, given the chance, she’d open her fat mouth and blab. It’s too juicy a secret not to. I couldn’t have that, so I dove behind the nearest obstacle I could find – which happened to be a dumpster. I was shaking when Jase found me.

But Madison doesn’t need to know about my dumpster diving adventures. I also fail to mention the nap I’d taken in his bed. That would send her over the edge. No, that little detail will need to remain between him and me, as would the fact that his pillow smelled like a mix of fabric softener and cologne and I could have easily taken it home to enjoy nightly. That detail definitely doesn’t need to be shared with anyone. Not Madison and certainly not too-hot-for-his-own-good Jase.




Chapter 5 (#u5bf33c33-24e7-536d-bf4e-70d6be15e57a)


Jase

I crank up the radio and settle back as the flat highway stretches before me. Having already missed my afternoon class yesterday because of my soiree with Avery, I take off for home, driving three hours just to check on my mom. I never used to bother going home much my first two years away at college. But a suicide attempt changes things. I won’t be able to relax or focus on class until I see her with my own eyes.

When I arrive, my dad is immediately in my face, provoking a fight that nearly leads to blows. He treats her like shit, and I’ve had it with him. But I try to focus on the fact that she seems to be doing better.

It’s a quick trip – I take her out to lunch and we just talk. Sometimes I worry she doesn’t eat enough, especially when my dad is out of town, which is often. With no one there to cook for, I have a feeling she just doesn’t eat. It’s more than just taking her out to lunch, though; I need to check on her, to make sure she’s okay. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for not realizing how close she’d been to checking out. It makes me realize I can’t take her for granted.

Settling into the drive home, I should make it back in time for my human sexuality class, the class I’ve most been looking forward to this semester. Professor Gibbs’ infamous lectures have generated plenty of buzz on campus over the years. It should be an easy A, and of course features my favorite topic – sex.

One hand rests on the wheel while the other tugs restlessly through my hair. I can’t stop thinking about Avery. Spending time with her yesterday was…unexpected. Her being comfortable enough to fall asleep in my bed? Shocking. And sexy.

I remember her skittish reaction when Stacia said she looked familiar. She looked like she wanted to dive for cover under my bed. Between hiding behind dumpsters to being terrified of my none-too-bright ex, Avery is a mystery. She’s like a scared little wisp of a girl I want to coax out of her shell.

Even I’m not sure of my own motivations since I doubt she’ll ever be one of my conquests. Which I both like – and don’t. She’s definitely tempting, with soft curves that fill out her jeans, long unruly hair, and especially her wide green eyes and soft mouth. Shit. I’m going to give myself a hard-on if I’m not careful.

I pull into the campus parking lot just as my class is starting. I’m going to be late. Finding the lecture hall a few minutes later, I pause at the doors to look for an empty seat. Professor Gibbs is tall, bald-headed and is pacing the front of the room. The room is full and silent, aside from him. He pauses just briefly as his gaze meets mine, then he returns to lecturing – making a point about society and self-image. I zero in on an empty seat in the back of the room when movement catches my attention. A flash of auburn hair streaks through my vision and makes my heart gallop. Avery.

She sits several rows up and her cheeks blossom when she meets my eyes. I can’t help but smile at the sight of her. I maneuver between the rows of seats, and a few nasty looks later, I’m in the chair next to her.

‘Hey Whistle.’

She rolls her eyes before facing the front once again, but the little curve of her mouth tells me she’s happy to see me. That little curve shouldn’t make me feel so good.

I lean closer to whisper near her ear. Traces of floral shampoo greet me. ‘What’d I miss?’

‘I didn’t even know you were in this class. You weren’t here last week.’

I like that she noticed that. ‘I was gone last week – had to check on my mom,’ I whisper back.

Her eyebrows draw together and then she turns to the front of the room again. I can’t help but notice she already has a full page of notes scrawled neatly across her notebook and is nervously bouncing a chewed, tattered pen in her hand. Abandoning my inspection of Avery for the moment, I tune in to our lecture. Gibbs is a lively speaker, and it’s easy to lose yourself in his words. I pull out the syllabus I printed from online and follow along the second week’s lesson: You – A Sexual Case Study. Oh yeah, this class is going to be awesome. And Avery’s faint blush during the lecture makes it hard to focus.

Professor Gibbs’ pacing leads him to the side of the room where Avery and I are seated. He pauses in front of us, pondering his next thought. ‘I’ve structured this class to allow you to explore your sexuality after finding that many of my students received abstinence-only education in high school.’ A few people in the room look at each other, wondering where he’s going with this lesson, when he continues. ‘Abstinence is often not the reality in college, or in high school for that matter. To remedy that, we’ll explore gender roles in society like it says on my syllabus, but we won’t just pontificate about these topics as obscure things unconnected to who we are. You’ll explore your own sexuality through a weekly journaling assignment.’

He passes out stacks of small black notebooks to everyone seated in the front row. The notebooks begin making their way around the room as everyone takes one.

‘These are your journals. And to get you started, I’ll provide the topic for your first journaling assignment. Turn to the person next to you. Doesn’t matter if it’s a member of the same or opposite sex.’

I turn to face Avery. Her cheeks were rosy before, but now she’s blushing like crazy and he hasn’t even given us the assignment. It’s so damn cute.

‘Open your journal. I want you to check out the person across from you.’ A few soft laughs erupt in the room. ‘No talking,’ Professor Gibbs reminds us.

I remain silent, slouched in my seat, and take in Avery’s stiff posture. If this is a study on the other person’s comfort level on sex, Avery will win for most uncomfortable. She looks like she’s about to flee the room. Why did she even sign up for this class? It’s a voluntary elective.

Professor Gibbs explains the journaling assignment. He’s looking to make a statement on positive self-image, self-love. Getting young women to see themselves more clearly, accepting, boosting self-confidence, both inside the bedroom and out; and getting young men to take note of more than what’s underneath their clothes. My eyes flick to Avery’s. She’s tuned in to his every word. Even I have to admit, it’s an interesting assignment.

The topic of our first journaling exercise is what we find appealing, beautiful about the opposite sex. A few snide comments and laughs circulate the room, until Professor Gibbs redirects us to think about the uncommon body parts, like hands and eyes. Then pushes us to go one step farther. He approaches me and Avery again, stopping in front of our desks. When he asks us each our names, Avery’s blush deepens again. He’s going to use us as an example in front of the class. I don’t care; I just don’t want him to embarrass her.

Professor Gibbs turns to Avery. ‘You’ll partner up and take note of each other’s characteristics. For example, Jase’s hands…’ He encourages me to lift them for the class to see. I hold them out in front of me awkwardly. ‘He would make a good provider with those strong hands.’

Avery’s pretty green eyes follow my movements and remain on my hands even after I’ve lowered them to the desk.

Professor Gibbs returns to the front, leaving Avery and me alone. I don’t care that we are in a room full of people. She’s fucking turning me on.

Being able to check out Avery for the sake of schoolwork is an amazing thing. She bites her lip and begins jotting something down in her journal. I wish I knew what the hell she was writing. Is it the thing Professor said about my hands? Somehow I doubt it is. Her gaze rakes over my jaw, down my chest, to my biceps, and it’s driving me insane. Each look is like a caress. It hits me like a jolt. I can practically feel her undressing me with her eyes. Shit. Who is this girl? She’s innocent and sexy all at once, and I know I’m in trouble. My heart is pumping fast, and I feel myself getting hard.

I flip open my own journal, needing the distraction. There are so many things I could write about Avery, but staring down at the blank page, I’m unsure where to begin. I’ve never kept a journal, but I have a feeling writing about her will be easy.

I take a deep breath and try to focus on the non-traditional body parts like Professor Gibbs reminded us. That way I’m not the perv staring at her tits. Which are exceptionally nice, I quickly note. Her head is still tipped down, so hopefully she didn’t notice my indiscretion. Damn, she’s writing a freaking novel. Is there really that much to say?

I swallow and focus on my notebook, finally writing, Her soft skin – it makes me want to protect her. I close the book before she has the chance to see what I wrote. God, I sound like a pussy.

I lean closer to Avery, and she slams her journal closed. But not before I see that she’s written an entire page about me. Wow. ‘Had a lot to say, huh?’ I whisper, offering a weak smile. She makes me feel so unsure and alive all at the same time.

She just shrugs, trying to downplay the assignment. But I can’t. There’s something happening between us. And I want to explore what it is.

‘Do you have class after this?’ I ask.

‘No. Why?’ she whispers back.

‘Come get coffee with me.’ It’s not a question and Avery just nods before turning to face the front of the room again.

The rest of the class drags by, as interesting as the topic is. The soft, feminine scent of Avery distracts me. Once we get outside, I wait for her to come up with an excuse, but she doesn’t. She walks by my side, her eyes looking everywhere but at me. And really, that’s all the encouragement I need.




Chapter 6 (#u5bf33c33-24e7-536d-bf4e-70d6be15e57a)


Avery

I watch Jase walk to the counter at the ultra-busy student commons to pick up our coffee order. He leans against the counter, T-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. I think he’s probably flirting with the cashier, or she’s flirting with him. Doesn’t matter. I’m still mad at myself for how I acted in class. Just because he has many fine features did not mean I had to catalog each and every one in my damn journal. Once I realized he wrote like one line and gave up on the assignment, I felt like a complete idiot.

While I wait for him to return with our coffee, I slide my notebooks from my bag and arrange them on the table, making sure to keep the journal safely in my bag. I don’t want Jase snatching it and reading about how I think his eyes are the most mesmerizing shade of blue, like a cloudless summer sky, and being near him makes me feel more alive than I have in a while, makes me want things I thought I never would again.

I can’t give my heart away again. Especially considering it hardly still beat inside my chest. Of course, all this is post-Brent. That’s often how I think of my life – the me before all the drama of my senior year, and the me after. After I trusted him. After I let myself be used by him. I know I brought it all on myself, but that doesn’t erase the past. Looking back, I don’t understand how I could have been so stupid. But when you’re in love and desperate for affection, and dealing with the fact you were adopted – it turns out you’ll do just about anything for attention. Things I now wish I could take back. But I never can. Even if there weren’t witnesses, the act is burned into my memory.

Besides, it’s not like Jase is asking for anything from me. Friends, maybe. That I could handle. I think.

I would probably consider dropping the class if Jase weren’t in there to witness my defeat. I don’t want him to know the subject terrifies me. I want to be brave, open, like the rest of the students seem. I thought taking this class would be good for me, but now I’m not so sure. But one thing is certain – I won’t back out now with my tail between my legs. At least part of me wants to see where this will go – especially since it means I’ll be seeing Jase every Tuesday and Thursday, all surrounded by the titillating topic of sex. It’ll be a wonder if I can survive this semester without spontaneously combusting.

Jase slides into the booth across from me, setting a paper cup of coffee in front of me. ‘Cream and a boatload of sugar, just like you requested.’

‘Thanks.’ I try a sip. Jase is still watching me, a lopsided grin across his lips. ‘What?’

He chuckles softly, the deep timbre of his voice raking over me, and folds his hands on the table in front of him. ‘Fine, I’ll do it.’

‘Do what?’

He smirks. ‘I see no other choice than to become your tutor.’

This time I’m the one laughing. ‘You want to be my human sexuality tutor? That’s original. And not douchey at all.’

Jase’s determined gaze meets mine. ‘As tempting as that offer is – and there’s so much I could teach you – no. I meant I could tutor you at…life.’

‘Gee thanks. Why don’t you just admit you think I’m a loser with no life and get on with it.’

‘I didn’t say loser. Lost…probably. Not having as much fun as you should be…definitely.’

‘Rip the Band-Aid off, why don’t you.’

Jase settles back against his seat, sliding his cup of coffee toward him in the process. ‘Just calling it like I see it, babe.’

He’s too relaxed, too smug. I want to lash out and say something to wipe that cocky smile from his face. Instead, I pull a deep breath and reflect on his observation of me. I’m sitting stick-straight in my seat, my stack of textbooks neatly lined up in front of me. And each time Jase has seen me – first at the party, then behind the dumpster – I’ve been hiding. I wish I could tell him those were isolated incidents, that I’m not really like that, but sadly I am. I realize with a flash of clarity, Jase is right. And suddenly I want more.

I lean toward him on my elbows, weighing his offer. ‘So how would this life-coaching work exactly…I’m not saying I’m interested, but if I was…’

‘We’d need to begin spending more time together for starters.’

I nod, listening intently. I’m thankful he doesn’t know my heart just kicked into overdrive at his words. ‘What else?’

Jase abandons his casual posture, leaning in towards me across the table, his brilliant blue eyes piercing mine with intensity. ‘I’ll issue you challenges as I see fit. You’d have to trust me.’

I fold my arms across my chest. ‘I’m not running through campus naked or dropping acid or anything weird like that.’

‘I wouldn’t ask you to do anything you’re not ready for.’ His voice is calm and sure.

I can’t believe I’m considering this, but I am. ‘Why would you want to do all this…I’m not a project.’

‘I didn’t say you were. Let’s just say I could use the distraction right now.’

I know my expression gives me away. I’m beyond confused about what’s happening between us and powerless to stop it.

He brushes his index finger over the crease in my forehead. ‘Hey, relax.’ His voice is just a whisper. ‘You’re thinking too hard. I’m not going to pry about your past unless you want me to.’

I shake my head, my heart thumping wildly.

Jase’s thumb caresses my cheek before he lets his hand fall away. ‘You’ll let me know if there’s someone’s ass I should kick, though, right?’

I would giggle at this, if not for the intensity radiating from Jase. ‘No. I made my own choices.’

He’s silent while he studies me – his blue eyes looking for answers. Answers I can’t possibly give him.

‘You were young, too trusting, fell for the wrong guy…’

I clear my throat. ‘Something like that.’

He reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. ‘Hey, it’s okay.’

I manage a nod, arranging my mouth in a smile. If he knew the truth, he wouldn’t be sitting here, being so kind to me. My heart is thudding against my ribcage. ‘This tutoring thing…When do we start?’

He glances at his naked wrist. ‘Now would be nice.’

I roll my eyes to avoid chuckling at him. ‘Fine. What’s my first assignment?’




Chapter 7 (#u5bf33c33-24e7-536d-bf4e-70d6be15e57a)


Jase

Avery is unlike any girl I’ve hung around before. She keeps me in a constant state of curiosity and mild arousal. It’s an interesting combination – both my brain and my dick are engaged, which is something new for me. I can easily see this becoming addicting. I want to challenge her to kiss me, but I know she won’t. I can’t push her that fast. We’ll have to work up to that. But I know if she let me touch her, I could own her. Christ, that’s a tempting thought. I never felt a possessive spark with Stacia, but something about Avery makes me want to possess her in a way I never have before.





Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Получить полную версию книги.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/kendall-ryan/the-impact-of-you/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.