Chapter Two
September
Ten Years Ago
“Jump! Jump! Jump!”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I turn my gaze from the inky black water below and glance over my shoulder as the final few people make their way up the ladder and onto the roof of the science building.
At least a dozen others stand watching in a huddle behind me, filming on their phones and drinking from neon-colored bottles we bought for next to nothing at the supermarket.
They’re drunk. Happily, stupidly, deliriously drunk.
And so was I until a couple of minutes ago.
Until she showed up.
Beside me, Tommy flexes his muscles, all two of them, and the entire roof breaks out in cheers. Or most of them do.
“This is so dumb,” Tommy laughs, and I nod, slapping him on the back even as my eyes flick to the side. To the girl who hasn’t spoken a word. Lara Stevens.
I didn’t expect to see her tonight. In the week I’ve been at this university, a week of parties and pub crawls and everything but learning, I haven’t seen her out past 9 p.m. And I’ve looked.
Hard. It’s become a habit now. Ever since I first caught sight of her on moving day, I can’t seem to enter a room without checking to see if she’s there.
But the only time she’s around is in those afternoon hours when we overlap and even then I only catch glimpses.
The dinner line at the canteen. Through the windows of the library.
On top of the science block at 1 a.m. is the last place I expected her to be. And right now, the last place I want her to be since I’m wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and a sparkling blue tutu.
Not that I’m shy. I’ve never been shy. And when I stripped off my T-shirt thirty seconds ago, it was to several pairs of roving eyes and appreciative wolf whistles. Just none from her.
Not only did she not wolf whistle, she didn’t even look impressed. She actually looked significantly unimpressed. And now she’s not even looking at all.
I thought I caught a brief glance when she first arrived, but she hasn’t turned my way since, which is slightly confusing because I work pretty hard on my body, truth be told. A lot of rowing and protein powder and, okay, maybe some good genes too.
People look at me.
So why won’t she?
There’s a tap on my shoulder, and I turn away as someone hands me a bottle. I take a swig automatically, but it doesn’t go down as easily as it did before. Too sugary and yet too bland all at the same time. Still, I force a smile and hand it back, keeping up appearances.
“Where the fuck is Jeremy?” someone shouts and there’s a chorus of catcalls as people lean over the side of the building, looking for him.
Jeremy is who we’re waiting for. Who’s fetching the shots we’re to drink before we jump into the lake below.
I forget why. Forget what we’re jumping for as well.
Honestly, I’m not even sure how this all started, but it seemed like a great idea when we were all in the student bar getting shit-faced.
Some genius proposed a game of truth or dare and I’ve never turned down a dare in my life so now I’m here.
In a tutu. And, since I’m no longer enjoying the effects of questionable alcohol, I’m starting to slightly regret it.
I look to the side again, trying not to be too obvious as Lara chats with a friend.
Dark curls. Brown eyes. Unlike me, she’s fully dressed, wearing jeans and an oversized cardigan.
She wears no jewelry, but there’s a university-branded lanyard with her student pass around her neck.
We were all given them in our orientation packs.
I lost mine on the first day, but I’m glad she didn’t.
It means I know her name. I know a few other things too.
Mother from Berlin. Dad from Glasgow. Raised in Manchester. That much I gleaned from her social media. That and that she liked a dog-themed meme page three years ago. Crumbs were all I could get. And now here’s my chance to finally talk to her and she’s acting like I don’t exist.
“Who’s that?” Tommy asks, nodding her way with an interest I don’t like.
“None of your business,” I say shortly, but he just laughs.
“Where the hell is Jer then?” he asks, stretching his arms out as he glances at the gaggle of girls watching his every move. “That fucker said he’d—”
“Run!”
The shout is distant, but we all hear it, and I join Tommy as he leans over the edge of the building to investigate.
“Security!” someone shouts below, and as I peer down the dimly lit pathway, I can just make out Jeremy running alongside the lake, waving his hands wildly over his head. “Security’s coming!” he yells. “Go!”
“Oh shit,” Tommy says, sounding just a little bit gleeful as he points a finger to where several flashlights bob up and down, heading our way. “Everyone down!” he calls. “They’ve seen us.”
There’s a chorus of screeching and yelling, which will surely only attract more attention, and a sudden rush to the fire escape. It’s the way we all came up, so the only way we can all get down.
It’s a bit hard with some of the girls in heels and somewhere in the back of my mind I register that it’s a miracle no one falls and sprains anything, but I get to the ground safely and spy Tommy rushing by with several bottles under his arm and a wicked look on his face.
“Arts Block,” he calls to me, and I’m just about to follow when something catches my attention.
“Lara, come on.”
I turn at the frantic hiss to see the girl in question standing by the fire escape.
As I watch, her friend joins the others in fleeing, but Lara doesn’t move.
It takes me a second to realize it’s because her cardigan has snagged on the railing, and in her obvious panic she can’t untangle it. She’s stuck.
A damsel in distress.
Well then. I smile to myself as I head over to rescue her, knowing a moment when I see one.
I’m not sure what happens then. Maybe she doesn’t hear me approach.
Or maybe she was secretly waiting for her chance.
In any case, she reacts immediately as I free her, whirling around with a raised leg.
Our eyes meet and recognition flares, but it’s too late to stop her knee meeting my groin and slaying me in one fell swoop.
“Oh my god!” Lara gasps, her hands flying to her mouth, but for the time since I laid eyes on her, I don’t pay her any attention as I futilely try to stop the blinding pain in my balls. “I’m so sorry!”
“It’s fine,” I wheeze, even as I slowly lower myself to the grass.
“I can’t believe I— It was a reflex action. I’ve been taking self-defense classes.”
“And you’ve been paying attention.”
Christ. It is not manly. It is not dignified, but I give in to the urge to rock on my side, curling into the fetal position as she drops to the ground beside me.
Well, at least I won’t be alone when I die.
But even through the pain, I keep my priorities straight and, as I peer up at the pretty girl beside me, I remind myself that an opening’s an opening. I’ll take it.
“Lara, right?” The words come out like a croak.
“What?”
“Your name.”
“I …” She seems startled. “Yes.”
“I’m Oliver.”
“I know.”
And doesn’t that just make my ego jump ten feet high. “Nice to meet you.”
She looks at me, aghast. “You need to go to the nurse.”
“Nah. Just give me a minute.” And an icepack.
I am vaguely aware of other students streaming past us, either not noticing or not caring that their fellow student is crumpled on the ground, but I don’t judge them for it. My parents would kill me if I got expelled before classes even really started. Which reminds me.
I roll onto my back and meet Lara’s worried gaze. “Go.”
“What?”
“You have to go, or you’ll get caught. You’ll be in trouble.”
Her forehead creases. She doesn’t move.
“Lara—”
“You go, too.”
I keep my hands cupped over my poor soldier and give her a look.
She hesitates. “Right.” A resigned expression takes over. “Right,” she repeats again, a little quieter this time.
She still doesn’t move.
“You’ll get suspended,” I press, which is a reach, but I don’t want her to get in any trouble at all, so it’s best to scare her. The smart kids scare easily.
But she gets a stubborn look on her face. “So will you.”
Maybe. Unless I can talk my way out of it. It’s my only option right now. The pain is already starting to subside a bit, from sheer torture to this just really hurts, but there’s still no way I can get up in the next few minutes.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, trying to sound stern. “Go.” But she’s not even looking at me, she’s staring at the bob of the flashlight as it comes ever closer.
She shakes her head, muttering something under her breath, and rises to her knees.
“What are you doing?” I ask, confused, as she whips off her cardigan.
“It’s my fault you can’t run,” she says, taking a clip from her hair. Her curls bounce down and I get a sweet waft of her shampoo that momentarily distracts me.
“But what—”
My heart just about leaps out of my chest as she swings her leg over my body.
Warm weight settles on my stomach and my hands fly to her waist because what else are you supposed to do when a girl straddles you?
But whether I’m trying to nudge her off or keep her there, I don’t know.
I don’t know anything anymore, because a second later, she reaches for the hem of her T-shirt and pulls it up and over her head.
Bronze skin. Soft stomach. Black bra molded to breasts that I’m pretty sure I’ll spend the rest of my life dreaming about.
Oh, Christ, am I hallucinating? Can you hallucinate from a kick to the balls? “What are you—”
“I don’t know,” she whispers, still sounding flustered, as she props herself over me.
Her boobs are now inches from my face. “It was the only thing I could think of. In the book I’m reading, there are these spies and they almost get caught in the alleyway, so Damien kisses Eloise against the wall so they don’t—”
“Who’s Damien?” I interrupt, bewildered.
“The prince of shadows.”
“Right,” I say. “Of course he is.”
“I’m sorry. This is stupid. I’m just panicking.” She makes to climb off and I immediately tighten my hold on her.
“It’s fine,” I say quickly. “You’re fine. Great idea. Do what you need to do. Sit there. Kiss me. Whatever.”
She looks embarrassed now. “I won’t go that far, don’t worry.”
“Who’s worrying? If it’s good enough for the prince of shadows, it’s good enough for me.” I let out a weird laugh that might be the most humiliating sound I’ve ever made in my life, but I put it down to the bruised penis thing.
“They might not even see us,” she says. “They might just—” She breaks off with a squeak as a flashlight swings our way and, before I can even blink, her lips land on mine.
It’s not the first time I’ve ever found myself in this position. I mean, the tutu is new, but I’ve been sowing my wild oats for a few months now, and I like to think I know what I’m doing. More than Lara, anyway. And yet, I’m completely blindsided.
She presses into me, her movements clumsy and unsure.
I can feel the tension radiating throughout her body, can practically hear every thought and doubt whirring through her mind.
I want to let her know that it’s okay, that she can relax.
That I think this might be the best moment of my life, but before I can do any of that, before I can even kiss her back, she pulls away, her eyelids fluttering opening in a confused, slightly dazed way that has me imagining what she’d look like if I slipped my hand into her jeans and—
“Hey!”
My arms go around her by instinct, and I clutch her to me as the security guard comes rushing up.
“Put your clothes on!” he snaps, switching the light off.
“Sorry. Sorry!” Lara pulls away from my grasp and shoots me a helpless look as she puts her T-shirt back on.
I should probably do something. Save the day, maybe. But instead, I can only lie there, my pulse racing, my cock with no clue whether to continue to shrivel into nothing or stand to attention as I stare up at her.
“Did anyone else come this way?” the guard calls.
“Uh, some drunk guys went left,” she says, pointing in the opposite direction. “We were a bit distracted, though.”
He still seems a bit suspicious, but Lara looks way too innocent to do something as stupid as … well, me. “Get back to your halls,” he says finally. “Now. If I come back here and find either of you—”
“We’re going! Sorry!” Lara climbs off me as the guard moves on, jogging away from the arts building. Smart. I knew she was smart.
I feel an odd sense of pride and smile just as our eyes meet. But instead of returning it, she looks away.
The warm feeling in my chest disappears, and I try not to take it personally when she presses the back of her hand to her mouth.
Wiping me off her.
“Thanks,” I say, sitting up slowly.
She clears her throat, still not looking at me. “Can you walk?”
“I can crawl. Give me a few minutes,” I add before she can feel guilty again. “Is that what happened in your book?”
“Kind of,” she mumbles.
“Kind of?”
“Well, he, uh …” She trails off and I’m fascinated by the sheer discomfort on her face.
“They had sex in the alleyway, didn’t they?”
Her mouth drops open and she finally meets my gaze. “No!”
“You’re reading a smutty book.” I don’t know why this thrills me, but it does. It’s always the quiet ones. I should have known.
“It’s a romantic fantasy adventure,” she insists. “And they didn’t have sex. They just …” She gestures randomly with her hands and then settles for scowling at me when she can’t find the words. “It’s really good.”
“It sounds it.” My eyes trail to her lips. I want to kiss her again. But judging by the stiff hold of her shoulders, I have a feeling it wouldn’t be welcomed. “You studying Literature then?” I ask instead.
She shakes her head, relaxing ever so slightly. “Medicine. What about you?”
“Viking Studies and Spanish.”
“Viking Studies?”
“And Spanish.”
She stares at me. “Why are you doing Viking Studies and Spanish? Why are you doing Viking Studies?”
“Why not?” I shrug.
That seems to stump her. “Why not,” she whispers back, and we both look toward the path as drunken shouting sounds in the distance. “We should really go.”
“I can move now,” I tell her. “But this was fun. We should do it again some time.”
She bites her lip, hiding a smile as she helps me to my feet and back to the dorms. I make her tell me the plot of her sexy book the whole way there.