This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9781489519108

Ebook Edition © April 2015 ISBN: 9780008134075

Version 2015-04-13

To girls everywhere who have made mistakes.

Forgive yourself.

Then let it go.

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Avery

Thirty minutes into my first college party, and I’m ready to smack someone in the face with a shovel. My first problem is that I’m wearing the most ridiculous shade of pink. Madison’s doing, of course. Tugging at the hem of my hideous shirt, I plaster a fake smile on my face and try to act as if I own this new look.

Compared to Madison in her tight jeans, low-cut black top, and sexy three-inch heels, I look cute in my pink outfit. And I hate that word. Cute is what you use to describe a teddy bear or a three-year-old, and it only demonstrates that I don’t belong at this frat party filled with gorgeous half-dressed girls grinding on the dance floor. Fuck my life.

Sighing, I push a chunk of hair behind my shoulder and take another sip of the now warm beer in my hand. Madison thrusts her arm around my waist, bumping her hip against mine in time with the music. I smile at her attempt.

‘Need more to drink?’ she asks above hip-hop music so loud I can feel the beat vibrating in my chest.

I look into my still full red plastic cup. ‘I’m good.’ I hate the taste of beer, but manage to take another sip. Tonight is all about blending in. And something tells me being the stone-sober girl with a perma-frown etched into her face isn’t the way to do it.

Madison and Noah are convinced this will be my year. They have grand visions of me loose and carefree, thriving in the college social scene despite the contrary evidence I’d presented them as a freshman last year. When they’d dressed me in this pink top earlier – which Noah claimed was actually rosy coral – they’d declared me a ripe peach, ready for the picking. I’d barely kept the scowl off my face at the euphemism.

‘Mancandy, two o’clock,’ Madison announces over the music.

I take my time, subtly turning in the direction she indicates. A group of three guys stands talking near the DJ and, honestly, they’re all cute. Either that or my mind won’t let me distinguish individual features since my body has no plans of getting involved with anyone. Ever.

‘Which one?’ I ask, playing along with Madison so I don’t disappoint her yet again. I know I make a terrible wing-woman. Noah fills the role a heck of a lot better than me. A fact he’s super proud of.

Madison glances at the group of preppy college boys. ‘The pretty one.’

Pretty?

Noah steals a glance at the group of guys too. ‘Damn, that boy is fucking delish.’ He shakes his head.

‘Major player, though.’ Madison rolls her eyes.

‘The pretty ones always are,’ Noah adds.

I can’t resist looking again for this so-called pretty boy, and when I do, icy blue eyes meet mine and he zeroes in on me with a smirk. His lingering gaze rakes boldly over my body, and I feel the nervous lurch of my stomach. The sights and sounds of the room fade away. Yeah, he’s pretty. That’s the only way to describe him. He’s roughly six-feet tall and lean, but with a hint of muscle. His hair is a warm mix of brown and blond, and his eyes are such a striking blue, it shouldn’t have been possible without colored contact lenses. Not to mention the ridiculously long eyelashes that I’d happily murder him for in his sleep.

A warm tingle creeps up my chest. It’s a decidedly unwelcome feeling and I swallow a large gulp of beer hoping to extinguish whatever the hell that sensation was. I want to look away, but I can’t. He has on dark jeans that fit his lean frame perfectly – slouching a bit on his hips but held in place by a worn leather belt. His T-shirt is plain and navy blue. I like that he isn’t overdressed for this thing, like some of the other gel-haired, button-up-shirt-wearing guys circling us. His hair is unruly and rumpled like he’d been in a fight with his comb. I have the urge to brush the strands out of his face. Or use it to tug him in to kiss me. Where did that thought come from?

Pretty Boy’s eyes stay locked on mine. One corner of his full mouth pulls upward. Crap. He caught me staring. I can feel my fake smile wavering. As my cheeks heat up, I look down at my feet that are squeezed into Madison’s heels. He has to know how gorgeous he is. Guys like him always do. And he is firmly in male-model territory, so he can’t fault me for looking.

‘C’mon, Avery, dance with us. You’re being a downer,’ Madison whines. When I blow her off a second time, she gives up and drags Noah to the center of the living room. She sways and grinds to the beat, obviously hoping Pretty Boy will notice. They gesture for me to join them, but as much as I love them both, this is so not my scene. Noah and Madison are both theater majors, so to say they are dramatic is an understatement. Sometimes I wonder if I cling to them because their flamboyant personalities mask my non-existent one. I watch them shimmy and shake for a few minutes before sneaking another glance at Pretty Boy in the corner.

He’s still watching me, so I give him my best attempt at a smile. I’m pretty good at hiding that I’m wounded, that my life blew up in a spectacular scandal my senior year, and that I still walk around fearful what happened that night will be uncovered. I hold the I-could-care-less-smile in place. I’m just a regular college sophomore in a hideous pink shirt. Move along folks. Nothing to see here.

My cheeks still burn and my heart pounds in time with the music. It’s too damn hot in here. Too hot to be wearing jeans and a three-quarter sleeve top. Pushing a damp tendril of hair from my face, I pull a breath into my lungs. It only confirms what my body already knows. Even with the show going on in front of him, Pretty Boy is still closely watching me.

The way his eyes lock on mine from across the room holds the promise of something much more intimate than two random partygoers. His deep blue gaze penetrates me and eats away at the calm, cool demeanor I fight to maintain. He looks at me like he knows me all too well, like he sees I’m an imposter. Maybe it’s because he’s hiding something too. His friends laugh around him while he looks on, bored and unimpressed. I snap my gaze away.

Guys like him bug me for numerous reasons. I hate his overconfidence and the way he’s completely ignoring the girl grinding up on him. Like he couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to anyone he deems unworthy of his affections. Cocky bastard. If he doesn’t want her he should send her on her way, put her out of her misery. Blond bimbo or not, she’s still a person.

Watching the poor girl conjures up memories I can’t deal with. I hate that I was once that girl. Pretty Boy continues to rake his gaze over every inch of me. Well, if this jerk thinks I’m an easy conquest, he’s sadly mistaken. Lifting my chin, I avert my gaze and force my smile to remain in place. I throw a glance at Madison and Noah who are full-on impersonating Lady Gaga at this point, and deciding my friends won’t miss me, I make my way through the crowd toward the back door. And freedom.

Chapter 2

Jase

The blond skims her nails over my chest and lowers herself down until her face is level with my groin. She bites her bottom lip and blinks up at me seductively. Too bad this is doing absolutely fucking nothing for me. I attempt a smile, but my face feels tight and unnatural. I grip her arms and haul her up, bending to whisper near her ear. ‘Sorry, baby. Not tonight.’ Disappointment crosses her features, but she nods, and walks away.

A year ago this would have been my favorite way to spend a Saturday night. Girls? Check. Drinking? Check. Raging party with my friends? Double Check. Not so much anymore. I don’t miss drinking too much and waking up next to someone I can’t remember.

But the main reason this holds no appeal? I was plastered the night I got the call from my dad last semester. I had to wait until morning before attempting the three-hour drive home to see my mom, all pale and gray in that hospital bed. After spending a tortured night, shattered without any way to fix it, drinking becomes a far less important priority.

My best friend Trey leans over. ‘Damn man, you don’t even have to try. It’s like you set off some radar that attracts them. Come. Fuck. Me,’ he says in a robotic voice.

I shove his shoulder. ‘Shut up, you know it’s not my fault.’

‘No, the superior genetics bred into you by the Congressman and the MILF ensure you get ass easily and often.’ He shakes his head. ‘Fucking lucky bastard.’

I chuckle, brushing off his comment. The truth is I didn’t ask for the attention, and I rarely sleep around anymore. But I’d earned my reputation during my freshman and sophomore years banging pretty much every girl in sight. And now I don’t do much to dispel the rumors. It’s nice, though, not be on the outs with one guy or another in the house because of whose girlfriend or sister I’d slept with. I’m actually enjoying the reprieve.

I look up and spot a pretty dark-haired girl in the corner. She isn’t dressed like the other girls here – her tits and ass aren’t on display—and strangely it makes her even more attractive. Her eyes widen and she forces a smile. It’s obvious this isn’t her scene.

I take comfort knowing I’m not the only one faking it tonight. She’s not the type of girl the old me would’ve bothered with. Meaning her panties aren’t ready to drop to her knees at my command. But somehow that only makes me more interested. She tugs at the hem of her pink shirt, looking ready to flee.

‘Just wanted to warn you…Stacia’s here and was looking for you earlier,’ Trey says.

Shit fuck. ‘Just what I wanted to deal with tonight. Drunk Stacia.’ Sloppy Stacia, crying Stacia, horny Stacia, take your pick. She’s usually at least one, if not all of the above.

‘You guys broken up again?’

‘For good this time.’

He raises his glass in a mock salute. ‘Stay strong, man.’

I plan to. We’ve broken up and gotten back to together so many times, I don’t know which way is up with that girl. We dated for a year. Why? I couldn’t tell you. I never liked her personality, but I did like her body. Still do, if I’m being honest. And she always shared that with me freely. But hanging out, listening to her talk about inconsequential bullshit… gah, even the sound of her voice frays my nerves.

I glance around the room, looking for the pretty dark-haired girl again. Not spotting her, I lean back against the wall so I can see into the kitchen. People fill pretty much every square inch of the kitchen, living and dining rooms – the only rooms we keep unlocked during parties. And the line for the bathroom is too long, so she couldn’t have gone in there. Considering her friends are still dancing in the center of the living room, spilling beer onto our already disgusting carpeting, I know she’s not far. That girl looks far too innocent to be wandering around a frat house alone. Damn. I hand Trey my beer and go off in search of her.

I step onto the back deck, and it’s so dark out, I don’t see her at first. The moon is just a sliver and she’s facing away from me, sitting on the bottom step. Reddish-brown hair cascades over her shoulders, falling nearly to her waist and blending in against the dark sky. Her back stiffens at the sound of the music flooding the peaceful night. I close the sliding glass door behind me, muting the noise but not blocking it out completely.

The T.I. song playing inside is about giving her whatever she’d like. A testament I currently share, looking at this pretty little thing in front of me.

She turns and catches my eyes. Her expression isn’t the reaction I’m expecting. She seems mildly annoyed…bothered by my presence. It’s not the usual effect I have on females.

‘You shouldn’t be out here alone.’ I take a step closer.

‘Why, are you planning on trying something? Because I can scream really loud.’

The old me would’ve made some comment about getting her sexy ass in my bed to see exactly how loud I could make her scream, but somehow I know she’s not looking for me to be that guy. It’s refreshing. I move closer to her into the cool night air, relieved that I don’t have to put on the smooth guy act.

‘Can I join you?’ I ask.

She eyes me carefully, her gaze lingering a moment too long. For a second I wonder if she’s going to say no. I can’t remember the last time a girl said no to me. She chews on her lip, trying to read me, then clasps her hands together in her lap. ‘You can stay, if you behave yourself.’

I chuckle softly. What was she expecting me to do? She either has major trust issues, or she’s caught wind of my reputation. ‘Do you have mace on you? Maybe a rape whistle tucked under your shirt?’

Her eyes narrow slightly. ‘Ha, ha,’ she says dryly.

I sink to the bottom step beside her and suddenly question what the hell I’m doing out here with her. This girl is sure as fuck too sweet for me to mess around with. But I know that isn’t what I want tonight. If it was, I’d be upstairs in my bedroom with the blond from earlier, and maybe her brunette friend too.

‘I’m Jase.’ I extend my hand toward her.

She looks at it, but makes no move to give me hers.

‘I’ll just call you Whistle if you don’t tell me your name.’

Her eyes are still blazing on mine as she straightens her shoulders. ‘If you’re trying to pick me up, save us both the time. My answer’s no.’

My shoulders vibrate with a soft laugh. ‘Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you, Whistle? I wasn’t going to ask you out, but your little speech was cute.’

She fixes her mouth in a tight line. ‘My name’s Avery.’

I’ve never met an Avery. The name is pretty, and unique – just like her. Her makeup is natural, subtle compared to the high sheen gloss of the blond’s lips from earlier. She’s pretty but not overdone.

‘I haven’t seen you here before.’

‘That’s because I don’t typically come to these things.’

She picks up her cup of beer, but doesn’t drink from it. It’s like she needs something to do with her hands. I know the feeling. I feel oddly clumsy and unsure around her – not something I’m used to.

I don’t need to ask why she doesn’t come to frat parties. It’s obvious this isn’t her scene. ‘Do you need another drink?’

She shakes her head. ‘Who am I kidding? I’m not going to drink this.’ She dumps the contents of the cup into the grass before setting the empty cup beside her.

‘Not a fan of beer? I think I could find you something else if you want it…’

‘I’m not a fan of drinking, really.’ Her voice is soft, like there’s some faraway memory pulling at her attention.

Now that I’ve turned to face her, I can’t look away. Her eyes are a mesmerizing shade of green and her hair looks faintly red when it catches the light. She has soft, delicate features, high cheek bones, a full mouth and pretty wide-set eyes. She’s lovely.

I drag a hand through my hair and turn away because I can’t seem to stop fucking staring at her. Stop being a creep, Jase. Instead I look out into the backyard – littered with red plastic cups, beer bottles and cigarettes butts.

‘Why not?’

‘It makes you do stupid things,’ Avery says after several long moments.

I simply nod. She has no idea how close to home that statement hits. Did she do stupid things in her past, or is she basing that on the actions of the people inside?

‘Why are you out here?’ she asks.

‘I needed some air. What about you?’

‘The same, I guess.’ She attempts a smile, but I can tell she’s just as out of practice at it as I am.

There’s something sad about her eyes, and it makes me want to kick the ass of whoever put that look there. Was it some drunk jerk that hurt her? Maybe that’s why she doesn’t like alcohol.

‘I took last semester off,’ I say, trying to keep the conversation going. ‘And even though I live in a frat house, I guess I’m not ready for the start of the new semester party.’

She looks over at me. ‘You’re a Delta Sig?’

I nod, glad that she doesn’t ask why I took last semester off.

She looks back out into the yard and releases a deep sigh.

This girl is different, and I’m completely thrown off my game. But I kind of like it. She refuses to drool all over me, and I respect her for that. I hate when girls who know nothing about me act as if we’re freaking soul mates. It’s such a turn off. But Avery seems different. I want to know her.

Avery

Jase remains silent beside me, and I can sense there’s something more on his mind than just escaping the party inside – only I have no idea what it is, or why he’s chosen me as company. I grin to myself thinking Madison will be proud that I’m out here talking to the Pretty Boy. And pretty, he is. It’s almost too much to handle having him this close and personal. He smells freakin’ incredible too, like a hint of spicy cologne and a trace of laundry detergent. I want to bury my nose in his neck and inhale, get closer to that delicious scent. Of course I do no such thing.

‘What’s the most interesting thing about you?’ he asks suddenly.

I am so not telling him that. His question is an odd one, but I go with it. ‘I was adopted.’

‘Really?’ His gaze flicks to mine.

Whenever I tell people, their eyes light up in wonder, like I’m suddenly special, different. I don’t know if they expect me to be from some cool foreign country, or maybe have celebrities as parents, but the truth is nothing like that. ‘Not from anywhere interesting. Just Colorado.’

‘That’s cool. Have you ever been back to visit?’

‘Nope. My dads wanted to take me there as a graduation present, but I don’t know…’ I shrug. ‘I’d convinced them I didn’t want to go. I actually did. Desperately. But I felt guilty for wanting to. They got uncomfortable whenever I brought up anything about my birthmom, as if they thought they weren’t enough for me,’ I finish. I have no idea why I’m unloading all this on a guy I just met. It seems Pretty Boy possesses the rare ability to coax the truth from me. Not good.

To his credit though, Jase doesn’t react at all to the two dads thing. He just nods and continues picking at the fraying string on his jeans, like he’s listening thoughtfully, both to the things I’m saying and what I’m not saying.

The truth is I’d never met my birthmom, but I’d always wanted to. Depending on the mood I was in, I would picture my mom as an elegant model, or during the tougher times of dealing with my adoption, as a homeless bag-lady.

My first impression of Pretty Boy Jase when I watched him inside with the blond was that he was your typical party-loving frat boy. Now, watching him silently pick at the hem of his jeans, I’m not so sure. He seems more comfortable sitting out here in the dark than being inside with his friends.

‘So, what’s the most interesting thing about you?’ I ask, returning his strange question. He chuckles softly, the timbre of his deep voice rolling over me like a seductive wave. ‘Hmm.’ He considers my question for a moment, looking up at the sky. ‘I don’t know. But I kind of want to find out, you know?’

I nod. What a pair we make sitting out here alone in the dark. I’m running from my past, and he’s trying to discover his future. Either way, it seems we’re both over the idea of pointless partying. As the bash rages on inside, I find solace in the knowledge that I’m not alone.

Jase

I need to direct the attention back to her before I say something stupid. And the way her bright green eyes gaze into mine, who knows what I could admit to if pushed. ‘So why are you really out here hiding?’

Her eyes flick nervously to mine, like I’ve uncovered some big secret. Only I have no clue what it is. Avery straightens her shoulders and lets out a sigh. ‘I’m not hiding. I just needed a break.’

She acts like being at a party is work, but I can’t argue. I’d rather be out here with her too. For a moment she watches me from the corner of her eye. Rather than stare at her like I want to, I continue picking at the blade of grass I’ve pulled from the ground.

‘Why are you bored with life?’ she asks.

She has no way of knowing the truth behind her words. Before I can respond, the door opens behind us, blasting us with an unwelcome wave of music. Avery and I both turn to see who’s interrupted our hideout.

It’s Trey. Shit fuck. He staggers toward us, his eyes dancing between me and Avery with interest. ‘Stacia’s looking for you,’ he announces.

I cringe as Avery’s eyebrows raise, no doubt wondering who Stacia is.

‘I’m busy right now.’

Trey continues, ‘Come back inside, man. I need you to divert some of the pussy you attract over to me.’ He takes a deep chug from his cup. ‘Hell, I’ll even take your leftovers.’ His eyes dart to Avery’s. ‘And considering this one’s still talking to you, I’m guessing you haven’t fucked her yet.’

Avery cringes at his words, and in two seconds flat I’m on my feet.

Avery

Jase stands suddenly and shoves a hand against his friend’s shoulder, hard enough to knock him back several steps. ‘Go back inside, Trey. Drunk ass,’ he mutters to himself.

Trey drags himself back inside, but his visit is a wake-up call. I really shouldn’t be sitting alone in the dark with a guy I don’t know. A guy who, according to his friend, definitely knows his way around a vagina. That’s the last thing I need. When I stand, I see disappointment cross Jase’s features.

‘I’m gonna go,’ I say.

He nods and watches me leave, his hands fisted tightly at his sides.

Back inside, the heat and music are too much. I find Madison and Noah where I left them in the living room, still dancing, only drunker than before. I tug on Madison’s arm. ‘Hey!’ I shout over the music. ‘I’m ready to go.’

She stops dancing to frown at me, but doesn’t argue. ‘Okay.’ She grabs Noah’s hand. ‘Noah-baby, come on!’

He grins, as easy going as ever, and follows us to the front door. I steal one last glance behind me and spot Jase situated on the couch, a different blond perched in his lap, his hands by his sides, doing nothing to stop the lap dance. His expression is bored, and when his eyes find mine, he frowns.

‘Let’s go.’ I tug Madison, more forcefully this time, and we head out into the night. I hate the feeling of Jase’s eyes on my back as I retreat. I hate that I thought we shared something outside.

When we reach the dorm, Noah follows Madison and me into our room, which has become a common occurrence. He hates his roommate this year. Apparently he was paired with some gay-bashing jock. Which sucks. Madison and I have told him to go to housing services and try to get switched. But each time he just shrugs. I kick off my shoes and fall onto my narrow twin bed. I’m ready to crash, not used to staying up so late, but apparently Madison and Noah are still in the dancing spirit. Madison turns up the music and they begin rehearsing the dance they’ve choreographed for Call Me Maybe. Even though I’ve seen it a million times, when Noah steps forward and sashays across our tiny room, it still makes me laugh. God, I love these two. It’s times like this I wonder, why can’t I just hide in my bubble? I have the two best friends a girl could want.

What’s so wrong with being the careful sophomore who’s best known for turning in her homework early? Or the girl who’s always around on weekends to let streams of drunk kids back into the dorms at night because she has nothing better to do? Oh God, yeah, that was bad. But the question is… do I want to change my reputation? I’ve worked hard to earn it – to stay under the radar. And I know if I jump onboard with the Madison school of crazy, all that would disappear.

I’ve achieved the anonymity I crave– so why do I feel so restless?

It’s why I choose this middle-of-nowhere-Iowa private college – because practically no one from my high school was coming here, which made it all the more appealing. Safe. Even though my dads wanted me to follow in their footsteps, go to State and become a Viking, I convinced them that this was what I wanted. Now I’m not so sure.

I replay my conversation with Jase over in my mind. What was it about him that felt so familiar?

Madison prances over to me, lip syncing with gusto. ‘Here’s my number, call me maybe.’

My mouth curls into its usual crooked grin, watching them sing their hearts out. Once the song is over, Madison removes her bra from under her shirt and thrusts off her jeans. She has zero modesty – in front of me, Noah, or anyone really.

Madison is my opposite in every way. I wear my hair loose like a curtain to hide behind –the longer, the better. Madison’s is cropped close to her shoulders in a sleek bob that she threatens to chop on a regular basis. She’s also blessed with a flawless olive complexion, while I’m pale except for the fine dusting of freckles across the bridge of my nose and top of my chest. Speaking of chests, hers fits politely inside her shirt, two nicely rounded lady bumps. Mine? Not so much. My boobs and I have never gotten along. Mine spill over a C, but I refuse to buy a bigger size, so I’ve taken to wearing sports bras exclusively since last year. Though it’s not because I care for jogging. They’re just more manageable this way. Of course Madison had a field day with that information, outraged that I’d taken to keeping my lady parts strapped down. She even tried to get Noah involved in making a case to free my boobage, to which he replied, ‘Eh. I could take ’em or leave ’em. But I have heard guys like those things.’ We all cracked up laughing, and that was pretty much the end of that conversation.

Madison flops down onto my bed, forcing me to scoot over. Noah stretches out on our futon, where he’s regularly been sleeping.

‘Did you have fun tonight, Avery?’ Madison asks.

I nod. ‘Yeah. It wasn’t bad.’

She chuckles. ‘If there’s no one who interested you at that party tonight, you’ve got bigger issues than I can help you with.’

‘There was someone,’ I admit, my voice tiny.

‘Who?’

‘His name was Jase.’

‘Jase Owens?’

I nod sheepishly.

Her eyes fly to Noah’s, which are just as wide and concerned. ‘Oh honey,’ he frowns.

‘What?’ I ask, keeping my voice level.

Madison rolls her eyes and lets out a huff. ‘Noah.’ She motions for him to explain, anchoring a hand on her hip. Uh-oh, this isn’t good.

‘How do I put this….’ He taps his index finger against his chin, his expression grim. ‘He’s a shark, babe. You need a guppie.’

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