Captured Love (The Crestwood University #3)

1. Selene

1

SELENE

I ’m convinced that I’m preparing to walk into the lion’s den. That’s the only way I can describe the feeling that is pulsing through my veins. I should be comfortable, being that I’m in my element, but calm is like a foreign word to me.

Even though I’m blasting music that is supposed to make me feel like I can take on anything, it’s not working the way that I want it to. Instead, I’m standing in front of my mirror, fiddling with the hem of my green top—which is supposed to make my green eyes pop—trying to decide whether it looks good enough. It’s tight, but in a way that’s supposed to make me feel powerful. I adjust it again, trying to force my nerves to settle. This is not the time to feel self-conscious. It’s time for me to own this.

I rub my hands down the front of my leggings just before I flash myself a smile in the mirror, and it’s obvious to me that it’s fake. However, I hope it reads like the confident woman I show the world on a daily basis.

Beneath this whole persona, I’m still me. The me that worries about not being enough. The me that wonders if this is all just one big mistake. But I push those thoughts away. I can’t let them ruin this.

This is the start of something. I don't know what exactly, but I can feel it. Like I’m standing at the edge of something that could either be amazing or disastrous, and I’m just daring myself to take the leap.

Tonight, I’m going to see Knox Sanchez.

Alone.

In his bedroom.

The guy all my friends say is trouble. The guy who’s as emotionally unavailable as he is annoyingly hot. The dude who, for reasons I can’t quite understand, I can’t seem to stay away from.

The day that he and I met still lives rent free in my mind. Jade Samuels’s words still play on repeat in my head. She warned me by saying, “ Knox has a bit of a reputation. He’s not exactly known for his long-term commitments, if you catch my drift.”

Hailey Reed, her best friend, agreed. Not to mention that her boyfriend, and hockey captain of the Crestwood Red Wolves, told her the same. Both of them made me wish that I could push the urge I had to get to know him more out of my mind, but I would be lying to everyone as well as myself.

I even managed to tell them that I wasn’t looking for anything serious anyway—to get them off my case.

Which is true. Or at least, it used to be true.

But that’s something I can’t dwell on right now.

Because he does seem to be interested in me. The night we met, we exchanged numbers. While it took a little bit of time, I feel as if he’s warmed up to me.

We’ve been texting for weeks now, and each message from him sends a little jolt of excitement through me. Not that I let him know that. I play it cool, like this is no big deal. Like he’s just another guy.

But it’s a lie. I know that, and maybe that’s what scares me the most.

My music takes the opportunity to switch to “Run For the Hills ” by Tate McRae. Is that a sign that I’m about to ignore?

Probably.

I grab my phone and silence the music. I thought the sudden silence would help, but it doesn’t. The music had been on to help drown out my thoughts as well as hype me up, but what I didn’t need was for it to call me out as well.

Before I set my phone aside, I swipe over to my messages and scroll through old texts with Knox. The first conversation that catches my eye is from a few weeks ago, where I sent him a screenshot of some cheesy reality dating show. I told him in all caps that he had to watch it with me just so we could quote, “dissect, and mock every second.”

It was a brave thing for me to do and I can admit that I did it after I’d taken a couple of shots of tequila in my room.

Cause who does that to another guy you aren’t already friends with. I remember how he teased me for even suggesting it, making me thankful that he didn’t make it weird or just ignore me.

I keep scrolling. There’s the time he sent me a late-night text with a meme about Brewed Beginnings, our local coffee shop because of a recipe I shared with him. Then there was that message where we spent half an hour arguing about which ‘90s song was the ultimate throwback. Not to mention the innuendos that could go one way or the other.

It’s not like these messages are dripping with romance, but it still feels like there is something else there. I thought I might have been overanalyzing the situation too much, but when he invited me over to his place, I knew where this was heading.

And I can’t wait, even though the nerves are still very much here, shifting me back to the present. I think about turning the music back on and just switching the song, but instead I just stand there, staring at myself in the mirror.

I trace the outline of my lips with my fingertip, wondering if adding a red lip would make me look more daring or like I’m trying too hard. The rest of my makeup is subtle, the kind that’s supposed to look like there’s barely any on even though it took me a good thirty minutes to perfect. I want to look like myself, just a bolder, more confident version than I usually pretend to be. The kind of girl who can handle a guy like Knox Sanchez without getting in too deep.

“Who are you kidding?” I mutter to my reflection. It stares back at me with wide, doubtful eyes. Green as a forest after a good rain, Mom used to say when I was a kid. Sometimes I think they're too honest for their own good, giving away every fear and insecurity I'm trying to hide.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, imagining what tonight could be. Maybe we'll just talk. Or maybe he'll open up about something real, something deeper than the casual banter we’ve been trading via text messages. Maybe he'll kiss me, and it will be one of those life-altering kisses that makes everything else fade away.

Ha. Chances are very high that I'll chicken out and turn around before I even knock on his door.

My phone buzzes on the dresser, breaking into my thoughts. I snatch it up quickly, half hoping it's Knox with some excuse to cancel and I can take all of this stuff off. Or find a party to go to and drown my sorrows.

It's not him. It's my best friend, Isla Johnson.

Isla: I’m so nervous about dinner this evening. Send good vibes!

I hesitate, mostly because the thoughts I’m having are traveling at a thousand miles an hour, but also because what I’m about to do, I’ve been keeping from the woman who knows just about everything about me. If I tell Isla where I'm headed, she'll freak out. Not that she disapproves of Knox. She barely knows him, but she probably has taken Jade and Hailey’s words to heart. Then again, I also don’t know what Asher, her on-again, off-again boyfriend, might have told her about Knox. Maybe at some point I’ll want to know, but tonight isn’t the night.

Still, I can’t just ignore her. She’s the one person who’s always been there for me, through every single thing. And me for her. So I find something to say that hopefully makes me sound normal.

Me: You’ll be amazing. Don’t stress! Your parents and Asher’s mom and sister are going to get along wonderfully. Let me know how it goes. Xx

I set the phone back down and take a deep breath. I'm fucking terrified. Not just of tonight, but of everything that seems to be changing around me. Isla and Asher are back together—again—and this time it looks like it might actually stick. She's spending more time with him, which I get, but it's left me floundering a bit on my own. It’s like I just got her back because she was in New York for years. Then there’s school in general and working part time.

And Knox. He’s the wild card in all of this. The X factor that has the potential to throw my already precarious balance completely out of whack.

But I can’t not see where this leads. And I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, if I’m being honest. I grab my purse and keys, making a last-minute decision to ditch the heels I’m wearing for a pair of flats. The shoes tone down the outfit just enough to keep me from looking like I'm trying too hard. Or so I tell myself.

After staring at myself for a few more seconds, I leave the comfort of my dorm room to face whatever is waiting for me at Knox’s place.

The walk to Knox’s house is shorter than I want, but cooler than I expected. With every step, I run through potential scenarios in my head: him opening the door shirtless, me tripping over the threshold and landing in his arms, us sitting awkwardly on his couch with nothing to say. Why I’ve painted this to be some romance in my head when he’s indicated anything but is beyond me. Let’s be real, it’ll end up being a booty call.

I’m not opposed to that either, but it doesn’t mean I’m not nervous. All of this isn’t something I normally do, but I can’t say I’m not excited by the idea of it. By the time I reach the house he mentioned he rents with some of the other guys on the hockey team, my heart has dropped to my stomach.

The place is a typical college guy house: slightly run-down but with a certain charm. There's a hockey stick propped up against the porch railing and a battered couch on the front lawn that I don’t remember seeing the last time I was here.

Strange.

I stand at the bottom of the steps for what feels like an eternity, clutching my purse so hard my knuckles are white. The flats were a good call; my feet would have been killing me already in the heels I’d thought about wearing. I glance up at the door, half expecting it to fly open and for Knox to be standing there, wondering why I'm staring at his door like a lost puppy.

No such luck. The door remains closed, the house eerily quiet for what I imagine a jock's haven to be.

I fish my phone out of my purse and check it again, just to make sure I got the time and place right. Still nothing from him. A part of me is relieved—if he’s forgotten or if this was some elaborate prank, at least I'll have an out. I can slink back to my room, put on pajamas, and watch terrible reality TV while eating ice cream straight from the container.

But another part of me—a growing, annoying part—will be disappointed.

Selene, just go up and ring the doorbell. Or, hell, text him and tell him you’re here.

I take a deep breath and steel myself, walking up the creaky wooden steps to the front porch. My hand hovers over the doorbell for an agonizingly long second before I mash it with more force than necessary. I can hear the chime from where I’m standing, and I step back, biting my lower lip.

Nothing.

I wait another few seconds, shifting from one foot to the other, then knock on the door. Hard. The sound of my fist against the wood is almost desperate, and I wince at how eager it must seem. I take a step back and glance around the porch, half expecting one of Knox's roommates to burst out and tell me he's not here.

I sigh and start to turn away when I hear the sound of a lock disengaging. My heart lurches as the door swings open slowly, almost tentatively. Knox stands in the doorway, his hair tousled like he’s just woken up from a nap. He rubs his eyes and gives me a sleepy half-smile.

“Selene,” he says, his voice rough around the edges. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I say, my voice higher than normal. “I wasn’t sure if you were here.”

“Yeah, sorry. I crashed after the game and lost track of time.” He runs a hand through his brown hair, and I can't help but notice he's wearing a soft-looking shirt over a plain white tee. I catch myself staring for a couple of seconds before he speaks again. “Come in.”

With those simple words, he moves out of the way, and I step across the threshold, unsure of what waits for me on the other side.