Chapter 1 Mallory
Mallory
It was supposed to be a simple kiss.
A brief, awkward pressing of lips together in front of a crowd of people—which unfortunately included my twin brother, Eric—that wouldn’t last for more than ten seconds.
Ten seconds. That was it. Ten seconds of holding my mouth to a mouth that I’ve thought about more than I should have over the last year.
A mouth I’d happened to be staring at when Sloane, Eric’s girlfriend and my former best friend as of sixty seconds ago, called my name and asked me the most juvenile question known to man.
She was a drunk and giggling mess, perched on Eric’s lap with his arm wrapped around her waist and our best friend since diaper days, Nic, frowning in her direction as she hiccuped between every word.
“Truth.” Hiccup. “Or.” Hiccup. “Dare.” Hiccup. “Malllll?”
I chose dare because…well, I don’t exactly know why I chose dare.
It was out of character for me, which is probably why every eyebrow in the room lifted in surprise when I made my choice, voice laced with confidence I wasn’t used to feeling anymore.
The only person who didn’t look surprised was Sloane.
She had a mixture of pride and mischief etched into her features, and the moment I saw her eyes flick over to the same face I’d just dragged my gaze away from, I knew I was in trouble.
Her dare was a simple one—kiss Chris, on the lips, for at least ten seconds—but from the way my heart sank into my stomach, you’d have thought she dared me to dive headfirst off the apartment building we were currently partying in.
It wasn’t even the worst dare that’d been issued tonight.
Just a few rounds ago, someone had been dared to strip naked and run a lap around the building in the bitter January air.
But it felt like the worst thing that I could have been asked to do, especially in front of Eric and Nic, whose groans of displeasure could be heard over the sound of my blood rushing through my skull as I watched Chris cross the room to reach me.
I was sitting on a barstool at the island in his kitchen.
A seat I had watched him and Eric put together just a few days ago when we helped him move into the Emerson—one of the more expensive apartment buildings close to campus.
The one that all the trust-fund babies move into when they’re no longer required to live in the dorms. It’s a nice building, all glass and metal, with modern finishes that make it clear not everyone can afford to live here.
Despite his patented lighthearted demeanor, Chris looked like he belonged among the marble tile, stainless steel appliances, and immaculate hardwood floors that bespoke solemnity and wealth.
Something about the aesthetic brought out a warm air of sophistication that swirled around him, and it fit him better than the halls of any of the dorms on campus ever have.
That’s what I was thinking of when he stopped in front of me.
Chestnut eyes with flecks of honey and bourbon in them traced my features as he placed his hand on the side of the barstool and turned me completely around to face him.
Treating me to an up-close view of that classic Chris smile that reminded me that I’ve never seen him take anything seriously.
He’s always smiling, laughing, and joking his way through life, completely oblivious to the reality the rest of the world just has to deal with, so it shouldn’t have surprised me he would approach a literal child’s game the same way.
My knees brushed his hard thighs, and I felt every eye in the living room on us as he leaned in close, resting his palms on the edge of the island.
His body stretched over mine, blocking out my view of the crowd.
Not that I cared that I couldn’t see them.
I was too focused on the way his smile was fading, shifting into a complex mask devoid of humor.
I was shocked at how quickly he did it. Went from being the capricious guy I’d known him to be to… this.
“Make it good for her, Chris!” someone behind him shouted, laughing loudly, and I half expected him to turn around and say something stupid and cocky and completely on-brand for a guy who, as far as I could tell, had never met a woman he didn’t want to take to bed, but his eyes stayed on me. Soft. Serious for once in his life.
“Nervous?” he asked, eyes on my teeth digging into my bottom lip.
“Nope. Why would I be nervous?”
His brows lifted, amusement slipping over whatever conflicted emotion had been shining in his irises just moments ago. “Because you don’t really do this kind of thing.”
“What kind of thing?” I tried to sound casual, but my voice wavered a little. “Play truth or dare?”
“Get roped into kissing random people at parties.”
He wasn’t wrong, even though it felt like he was sugarcoating it a little. The truth of the matter was, I didn’t kiss anyone. Not at parties. Not anywhere. Because the worst decisions I’d made in my life had been sealed with a kiss.
Get ready to add this one to the list, the snarky voice in my head quipped as Chris waited for my response, completely unbothered by the restless crowd behind him begging us to get on with it already. “Are you a random person?” I arched a brow, sass coating each word.
“No, I guess not,” he answered, letting me sidestep the point he was attempting to make.
“Then I guess we should kiss before they riot.”
“Yeah, I guess we should.”
I watched his face move closer, and his breath skated across my skin as I fought the very real urge to let my eyes fall shut. My lungs burned, demanding air that was laced with his earthy scent and protesting when they were denied.
I knew I needed to breathe. I didn’t want to run the risk of passing out and giving everyone here another reason to think I was weird.
It was bad enough that I didn’t date, didn’t even engage in the most casual of hookups.
Crumpling into a breathless heap the moment the most coveted pair of lips on campus met mine would only make it worse.
Chris lifted one of his hands, bringing it up to my chin and cupping it between his index finger and thumb. With a barely discernible movement, he applied the lightest bit of pressure, forcing me to focus all of my attention on him.
“Breathe,” he whispered, the quiet command pulling the trapped air from my lungs and giving me a glimpse of a side of him I’d never seen before.
Dark. Dangerous. Lethal.
My eyes went wide, shock winding its way through my chest to mix with the mild panic being held in his gaze sent through me.
All at once, I started to doubt the wisdom of going through with this dare, of breaking one of my personal rules to appease a room full of drunk college students playing middle school games to distract them from the spring semester starting in a week, but before I could say or do anything to take it back, Chris’s lips crashed down on mine.
Taking me by surprise that was equal parts delight and terror as his tongue slid over my bottom lip asking for more. My chin was still in his grip, which meant I couldn’t move if I’d wanted to, so I gave myself over to it. Over to him.
It was supposed to be a simple kiss, but it was not.
It was an awakening.
It was a million bolts of electricity reviving a stalled heart.
It was a montage of a thousand lifetimes spent in a million reckless, beautiful ways.
It was the best thing that had ever happened to me, and—though I had no way of knowing this for sure—my biggest mistake.