Chapter 1
Alani
I tilt my head back, my eyes closed, but my nose pointed to the ceiling. Pretending to have a good time doesn’t make it happen, and waiting for the alcohol to take over and dull the edges of boredom frustrates the hell out of me. I don’t need to be drunk to have fun, but it sure does help.
College is supposed to be a blast. I’m supposed to live life and celebrate the new freedom I have, but it feels more like torture.
I don’t even want to be here, and I’m regretting my decision to attend Lindell University.
I wanted to put some distance between my sister and myself.
I wanted to get far enough away that she couldn’t just pop up and surprise me.
I got my wish and then some because I haven’t seen Ayla since she dropped me off in the fall.
Hell, I spent the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays with my roommate’s family because Ayla took a job out of the country.
It seems she couldn’t wait to get away from me either.
I feel orphaned, abandoned. I never confess those things on our weekly calls.
The woman had to put her own life on pause to take care of me after our parents’ tragic deaths.
I fought against her parenting, at times because as a teen it’s the instinctual thing to do, at other times because I wanted to punish her because of the role she had to take.
It wasn’t fair, and I knew it at the time. Maybe her silence is her vengeance.
The music surrounds me, swirls like a living thing against my skin, but even as much as I want it to, it doesn’t settle inside of me the way I need it to. It isn’t threatening to take over, to become the escape I need like it normally does.
Shaking out my arms, I feel a heated sense of awareness, the odd sense that someone’s watching me. The thrill of having someone’s attention lights my skin on fire.
I imagine the danger of it, that the electric charge is coming from someone dangerous, someone who’s willing to hurt me, to take what they need. My heart pounds in my chest, the rhythm not too different from the beat of the music swirling around the party.
I don’t open my eyes to search the crowd because it will only lead to disappointment. I never find what I truly need because this is a college party not far from campus in a one-horse town, not some dangerous rave deep in the belly of an abandoned building.
“Hey.”
I growl deep in my chest at the interruption but calm myself before opening my eyes to the man who thought now of all times would be a great time to interrupt me.
“More?” Blaine asks, holding up the matte-black flask.
His smile is wide, unassuming. He’s handsome by all standards, a real catch if he were the type of man I was attracted to.
I take the flask, lifting it to my lips.
Ayla would warn me against the glint in his eyes.
She’d tell me to be cautious of any man pushing me to get drunk, but this isn’t the first time I’ve been in this situation with Blaine.
Despite the fact that he’s a senior to my freshman, his end goal is taking care of me at the end of the night as if his chivalry would make me more likely to want to date him.
He wouldn’t have the stomach for doing what I desire most. He’d have more of a chance with me if he did.
My nose scrunches as the alcohol burns its way down my throat. I hate the taste, but know it’s just part of it if I want to get where it eventually takes me.
Blaine’s smile is bright and hopeful, his body moving to the music as he waits for me to have my fill of the whiskey in his flask.
He’s classically handsome with blond hair and bright unassuming eyes.
A real catch honestly if I were attracted to the boy next door who doesn’t have an ounce of mischief in his body.
Providing this liquor to a minor will probably be the scintillating tale he’ll try to avoid when telling stories later in life, with his equally perfect wife and their equally perfect two-point-three kids.
I wish I found the guy attractive. It would make my life much easier. It would make the disappointment that seems to follow me around non-existent.
Wanting to get away from Ayla because she was smothering me ended up being the worst decision possible.
I hate it here. I hate the perfection everyone seems to carry around with them.
I hate the white-toothed smiles and the control everyone seems to have.
I hate the excuses everyone uses to keep from going wild because they have practice the next day or an exam coming up.
I hate my parents for dying and I hate my sister for stepping into the role of parent so seamlessly. I hate that I feel like the only one who struggles with knowing how my life will end up.
“Are you having a good time?” Blaine asks, his smile still wide even when I hand him back an empty flask.
“The best!” I lie with mock enthusiasm.
Disappointment swirls deeper when he grins, not catching the sarcasm in my voice.
I scan the room, my body still moving to the music despite this need inside of me to leave. It’ll pass—that desperation for danger. I just need to give the alcohol enough time to work.
Landon and his husband, Rick, friends of Blaine, stand across the room, looking just as bored as I feel.
I see the questions in their eyes as they also scan the room.
I can tell they’re wondering why they even showed up at a college party in the first place.
Landon, the guy who Blaine described as a hell of a baseball player, looks even less impressed.
I was told during our introductions that he’s in the Marine Corps and on break before getting his first set of orders.
It seems as if he’s realizing he should’ve decided to go anywhere but here.
I make a mental note to never come back to campus. I refuse to be the girl who graduates and comes back as if I need to relive my glory days. I can only pray these are far from my glory days. If they are, what a damned shamed.
“I brought a second one,” Blaine says, producing another flask.
I give him a genuine smile, grateful for his thoughtfulness. I’m safe with the man, and I hide that disappointment with another tilt of the flask to my lips.
That’s when I see him. Dark eyes lock on me as I drink, and I know he’s the cause of the way I felt earlier. Danger seeps off of him, becoming a tangible thing between us despite him being across the room.
He doesn’t even attempt to fit in with the smiling and laughing kids around him. His dark presence makes everyone close to him seem like toddlers. His lips form a flat line as I drain the second flask, his eyes on my skin burning more than the whiskey in my throat.
I break eye contact with him long enough to hand Blaine back the empty flask. Disappointment flashes in his eyes when he shakes it.
“Sorry.” The apology falls from my lips naturally, a trained response to the discontent in his eyes.
“I’ll go get a refill,” he says.
Relief washes over me as he walks away. The guy is a good friend for the most part, but there are times he’s more than a little smothering.
I don’t know why he nominated himself as my protector.
On one hand, he tries to act like the older brother I never wanted, but then in the next breath, he hints at wanting to be more.
I know it’s messed up that I haven’t told him I don’t want either from him.
It makes me a user, an ungrateful asshole honestly, but I don’t want him gone either.
The attention he gives gets on my nerves, but it also feeds that narcissistic part of me that craves his undivided attention.
The problem with Blaine is that he’s too nice.
He’s everything I could never want in a man.
I realize how messed up it is, how the things I crave would probably make any sane person call the people in white coats to drag me away for evaluation.
I’m well aware that the things I read about are fiction.
That wanting a man who’s willing to hurt me is as crazy as the plotlines in the books I devour.
My eyes scan the room, an ache I can’t explain tugging down the corners of my mouth when I can’t find the man I saw just moments ago.
Warmth spreads through me as I continue to dance, my eyes constantly searching the room.
Either he’s watching from the shadows or my mind is playing tricks on me because I can feel his attention on my skin.
It’s an electric current tugging at every hair and making them stand on end.
I close my eyes, swimming in the idea of him dragging me into the darkness, of him refusing to stop even when I beg him to.
“This is the last one.”
My jaw aches with the pressure from clenching it as I open my eyes to find Blaine once again standing in front of me.
“Thanks,” I tell him, taking the refilled flask and walking toward the far wall.
I’m covered in sweat, the cool winter air outside no competition for the swarm of warm bodies in the house.
Landon and Rick join us, both looking like they’re ready to make their excuses and bolt.
“This is different from what I remember,” Rick says, his eyes scanning the crowd.
“Yeah,” Landon says.
“It’s fun, right?” Blaine says, reaching for the flask as I raise it to my lips again. I hate the judgment in his eyes.
Landon tilts his head, his lips a flat line.
“Maybe we’re just that old married couple who would rather be in bed,” Rick says, his eyes shrinking as he smiles.
Landon licks his lips in a way that tells me he’d rather be alone with his husband, but sleep is the farthest thing from his mind.
I look past all of them, yearning to feel the same energy I felt earlier.
“Do you know him?” Landon asks. “He’s been circling and watching you all night.”
I dart my eyes faster, still not finding the mystery man.
“Nine o’clock,” he says when I come up empty. “That’s three. Your nine.”
I look in the opposite direction, that very same giddiness wrapped in mystery I felt earlier hitting me when I lock eyes with him.
There’s no way the man is a college student, and it’s not even the full beard and experience in his dark eyes. He carries himself like a man. There’s a danger rolling off him that interests me.
“Yeah,” Rick says, looking over his shoulder before looking back at me. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
I lick at my suddenly dry lips.
“Alani?” Blaine says, a hurt in his voice that’s misplaced.
I know a conversation with my friend is coming, and the disappointing part is that we’ve had the conversation several times before.
Tonight it will fall on deaf ears once again.
I seriously need to tell him I’m not interested in him that way when I haven’t been drinking, but sober me is too scared of losing his friendship despite drunk me wanting to shove him away.
It’s selfish and makes me a total asshole, but we don’t always get to pick the roles forced upon us.
“Hey,” Blaine says, grabbing at my arm when I start to walk in the man’s direction.
I shrug him off. “I’ll be fine.”
Famous last words.