Chapter 2
LIVVI
Fresh air. What I needed was fresh air.
And to get as far away from Talon Everhart as I could.
I’d never been in such close proximity to him before, especially not one-on-one. Alone.
Even now, with the door shut behind me, the echo of his presence lingered—like the faint scent of chlorine and soap or the way his voice echoed in my head, low and rough enough to make my pulse misbehave. I hated that.
Talon Everhart had always been an untouchable in my world. Too confident, too quick-witted, too everything that spelled trouble. The kind of man you kept at a safe distance if you valued your sanity.
But tonight, I’d been stuck within arm’s reach. Just the two of us. Now, my heart was still trying to pound its way out of my ribcage, and I wasn’t entirely sure if it was from irritation, nerves … or something else entirely I couldn’t put a name to.
I headed down the front steps, inhaling the balmy March night air of Florida like it could wash him out of my system. Spoiler: it couldn’t.
I hated that he was every bit as intoxicating as the rumors promised—and worse, that I’d spent the last hour pretending he wasn’t. My composure had been an act, one I could only hope he hadn’t seen through.
Truthfully, I’d wanted him gone so I could focus.
But it wasn’t just about the work—it was about him.
I never quite knew how to navigate interactions with someone like Talon Everhart.
Someone with presence. He was popular, magnetic, too handsome for his own good, with that unshakable self-possession that didn’t have to be performed. It just … was.
And despite my best efforts, I’d noticed things I shouldn’t have.
The way his blue eyes held a glint like he was always one step ahead of the conversation.
How his voice could drop to something almost conversationally intimate, like we were sharing a secret.
The way his forearms flexed when he leaned across the table, giving me a peek of his tattoo.
Those details lodged themselves in my mind, uninvited, refusing to be dismissed.
My life had no room for that kind of distraction.
I kept it pared down to essentials—working and studying.
When you were balancing a double major in Accounting and Computer Information Systems and working full time, you didn’t have time for tangents.
In my six years at Kemery University, I hadn’t cultivated more than passing acquaintances.
I liked it that way. Every hour spent socializing was an hour stolen from my goals.
I’d chosen my fields deliberately—minimal human interaction required. Numbers and code had rules. Predictable, orderly. People were … less so.
And Talon Everhart? He was the exception to every rule. At Kemery, the rest of the students were like restless cats, and he was the glint of light they couldn’t stop chasing—especially the women, who didn’t just watch him, they gravitated toward him.
Not that I could blame them. He was … breathtaking.
Years of training had carved his body into something precise and powerful—broad shoulders, defined chest, abs etched like a sculpture.
The black ink of an eagle’s wing swept across the back of his forearm, the lines bold against his skin, the kind of detail you didn’t forget once you’d seen it.
And I had seen it—far too often to plead ignorance.
If I hadn’t known he was a swimmer, I might have assumed he practically lived in a weight room.
But Talon Everhart’s posters were still scattered across campus, the kind of promotional shots that left little to the imagination.
Just him in his team jammers, that unforgiving fabric clinging to the muscle of his thighs, his lean frame honed for speed and power in the water.
I told myself I’d only noticed in passing. That it was impossible not to when one hung out where I sometimes ate lunch. But the truth? My gaze often lingered longer than it should, mapping the lines of his body without permission.
And then there were his eyes—clear, startling blue, like the surface of a pool just before you dive in. Beautiful, if you ignored the fact that they belonged to someone who knew exactly how much attention they commanded.
I exhaled sharply, willing the image away. I was not going to get lost in the fantasy of some cocky athlete with a killer smile and eyes made for temptation.
Needing a distraction on my walk back to the apartment—and maybe something to tether me back to normal—I pulled out my phone and opened the video-chat app. One tap on Cali’s photo, and I hit record.
We’d been best friends since high school, and more than six years of living in different states had done nothing to change that. She was my only friend, but she was all I needed.
“Hey, Calico.” I angled the camera toward my face.
“You will not believe what just happened to me at the library. I was tucked away in my hidden gem of a study room, minding my own business, when out of nowhere, a guy walks in and sits at my table. Nearly gave me a heart attack. But get this …” I paused for effect.
“You’re never going to guess who it was.
Nope. Not even close. Talon. Everhart. I know.
I was completely shocked. And yes, he’s just as gorgeous up close as in his photos and on TV.
And yes, he’s exactly as conceited and arrogant as you’d expect from a guy like him. ”
I gave her the play-by-play—every word, every look—knowing she’d lose her mind when she watched it.
It reminded me of my very first video call to her after I’d arrived at Kemery.
I’d been standing in the quad, a bundle of nerves and excitement, the administration building looming behind me.
Mid-sentence, she’d interrupted to demand I turn around so she could get a better look at the “hottie” on a poster behind me.
That had been my first introduction to Talon.
Back then, I hadn’t cared who he was. Kemery had a reputation for producing Olympic swimmers, but I hadn’t come here for that.
I’d come for the scholarship—my only ticket out of my hometown, Blue Springs.
Kemery was a little Ivy, prestigious enough to open doors, and far enough—seven hundred eighty-five miles—to ensure I only went home a couple of times a year.
The only person I missed from home was Cali.
Thank goodness for video chat, because she was also the only one who missed me.
She’d been my lifeline growing up, the only steady thing in a house steeped in resentment.
Without her, I wouldn’t have survived the years in Blue Springs.
She’d been there through every low. Yeah, there had been no highs.
Messaging her now wasn’t just to tell her about Talon. It was to remind myself of who I was and of the life I’d built away from people like him—untouchable, alluring, a threat to my focus.
Leaving home had been easy. And staying gone was the goal.
I wrapped up the story for Cali just as my apartment building came into view.
As pathetic as it might have sounded, I’d kept her updated on Talon over the years.
It hadn’t taken long, back in my freshman days, to learn his name—and that he was the undisputed star of Kemery’s campus.
Whenever he stepped foot on university grounds, it was as if a spotlight tracked him.
People noticed. I noticed, whether I wanted to or not.
That didn’t mean I harbored some secret crush.
Knowing details about him didn’t make me infatuated; he was more like a town celebrity than anything else.
His life seemed so far removed from reality, so charmed, it was almost entertaining to observe from a distance.
Yes, he was striking—anyone with functioning vision could see that—but to me, he was just an attractive man living an extraordinary life.
A safe topic for conversation with my best friend, nothing more.
“Well, I’m back at my apartment now, so I’ll let you go. Let me know how your friend dinner went. And by ‘friend dinner,’ I mean how things went with Jared,” I said, angling the camera for an exaggerated wink.
I could already picture her rolling her eyes and laughing.
“Chat with you later,” I added, before tapping the stop button.
Sliding the phone into my pocket, I climbed the stairs toward my apartment, my earlier irritation beginning to settle, though not entirely fading.
It was ridiculous that he was still in my head. I’d told myself that sending the video to Cali would exorcise him from my thoughts, but instead, replaying the evening had only sharpened certain details. The sound of his voice and the way he looked at me like he was curious.
I unlocked my door, forcing the thought away as I stepped inside.
“Hey!” Roxie called from the kitchen, her blonde curls piled into a messy bun as she pulled a tray of cookies from the oven.
“Hey.” I offered a smile. We’d only been roommates for a few weeks, but so far, she was easy to live with and friendly without being intrusive, which was exactly what I needed.
“There are a few for you on the counter,” she said, nodding toward a plate.
“Thanks. Smells amazing.” I took one—still warm—and made my way toward my room.
The best part of the night would be closing my door, knowing no one could barge in the way Talon had at the library. Here, the space was mine—quiet, contained, predictable.
I changed into soft pajamas, washed my face, and pulled back the covers, propping myself against the pillows with a sigh of contentment.
My laptop was already on the nightstand, waiting.
A few clicks later, I was exactly where I wanted to be—immersed in the latest chapters of the romantasy I’d been devouring on BookPad.
Safe. Alone. Wrapped in someone else’s story instead of the craziness that had intruded on mine.