My Enemy's Boyfriend

By Linda Kage

It was no mystery why I hated Genesis Gusano. She liked to take other people’s things. The bitch stole a pair of my cutest shoes along with my favorite necklace and a school paper I’d written, which had nearly gotten me expelled from Haverick University entirely. But the last straw came when she dared to take the one thing I’d been pining over for two years.

Him.

I had craved Hudson Ivey in a way I didn’t even know craving was possible, and that was before I’d learned his dang name.

He had no idea he’d become a possession that two enemies were warring over. All he wanted to do was graduate with his culinary arts degree and become the best chef possible.

But now he’s stuck in Genesis’s sick game until a ghost from his past changes all the rules, possessing him in a whole new, far more dangerous way.

I promised myself I was done with the paranormal life. I was determined to be a normal, everyday, average girl. But I can’t just stand aside and watch him be destroyed. So I guess it’s time for a little Faith to step in and save the day.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linda Kage
• Release date: May 23, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224588480

Linda Kage

The youngest of eight children, Linda Kage grew up on a dairy farm in the Midwest. She now lives in Kansas with her husband, daughter, and nine cuckoo clocks. Linda is a member of Romance Writers of America and its local chapter, Midwest Romance Writers.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

HUDSON

July 2017

As I eased the back door of my house open with quiet precision, I held my breath and slipped inside the kitchen, straining my ears the entire way for stirrings from my mother.

When I heard nothing, I exhaled in relief and finished shutting the door behind me, only for the latch to click with the faintest snick of sound.

Hudson? Is that you?

Damn.

I slumped against the betraying exit before answering, Yeah, Ma. You need something?

All the while, I silently begged, please don’t come back here. Please don’t come back here.

As a matter of fact, I do, she slurred irritably. That friend of yours—Thane—he called again.

Jesus. Of course, he had.

I scoffed over his persistence—dude just wasn’t getting the message, was he?—and I pushed away from the door, no longer concerned about Ma because she sounded way too toasted to get out of her chair and wander in here to check on my state of sobriety.

Oh yeah? I asked, feigning interest as I neared the cabinets, tapping my fingers along the countertop when I reached them. I needed some sustenance, stat.

Yes! And this was the fifth time in the past two days, she ranted on as I discovered an unopened bag of potato chips on the top shelf.

Thinking those would do just fine, I dragged them down and turned in search of more.

He says you haven’t returned any of his calls in weeks.

With a roll of my eyes, I didn’t mention that I was avoiding him on purpose because I had tapped out from the damn meetings he kept thinking I needed to attend. But I was done. Finished. Finito. No more grief group for me. He should really get over it and move on.

I certainly had.

Will you just call him back so he’ll stop pestering me already?

Except he’d brought my mother into it. Which, in turn, pestered me.

Sure thing, Ma, I promised. I’ll do that right now.

I was totally on top of it…right after never.

Spotting a half-finished package of Oreos on the counter, I snagged those as well and nodded to myself in approval. Then I moseyed my way to my room, whistling under my breath until I shut myself inside with a nudge from my foot.

Finally alone, I let the snacks topple from my arms and onto my desktop before I opened the drawer underneath. I wavered in front of it as I dug into my pants pocket and extracted a small clear baggie. Once I held it up to make sure it hadn’t sprung a leak, I flicked a finger at the contents in greeting before dropping it inside the drawer and shutting the evidence away.

And then I was ready to get comfortable.

I eagerly climbed onto my desk along with my snacks and after opening my bedroom window, I rested my spine against its casing before letting my head fall back in dreamy relief. When a light breeze filtered in through the screen and stroked an airy finger along my cheek, I closed my eyes and exhaled.

Now this… This was the shit.

The warm air felt so good on my skin that I groaned from the pleasure of it.

Kicking off my shoes, I listened to them clomp to the floor as I stretched out my legs and crossed them at the ankles, getting good and relaxed.

Outside, the sounds of summer greeted me with a soothing melody. The neighbor’s sprinkler was running full blast. Down the block, a lawn mower chugged to life. Kids yelled happily in the distance. A car drove by on the street, its radio entertaining me with a brief snippet of Coldplay.

When I heard the tweeting of a bird from above, I let my lashes flutter open so I could peer up into the branches of the trees, where I spotted a cardinal.

Its feathers looked brilliantly red nestled between those dull, brown limbs and full, feathery leaves.

Wicked, I whispered, taking it all in. Life was just so fucking beautiful sometimes.

And the colors. Damn. I loved color.

I mean, the green of the grass was just so…green.

And that truck driving by… I didn’t think I’d seen white that blindingly white before.

Color was nice.

But you know what was even better than color?

Food.

Remembering I had snacks scattered around me, I pulled the bag of chips into my lap and opened the top. Closing my eyes in ecstasy, I breathed in the fresh, cheesy scent that poured out and reached my hand in to grab a handful of goodness.

After stuffing my mouth, I tipped my head back against the window frame and chewed, smiling because nothing hurt when I was like this. There was no pressure in my head, threatening to burst my skull open, no guilt thrumming through my veins, no fucked up parents making me think every problem in the world was my fault. No worries at all. Just easy, peaceful, good times.

Satisfied, I watched the cardinal in the trees some more as it hopped around, probably looking for a place to build a home.

Must be nice to have nothing in life to worry about but finding that next perfect twig.

Felt like I’d barely taken another handful of chips when someone knocked on my door.

Ooh, visitors. Visitors sounded nice too. I even felt good enough to welcome my mom right now. She probably had the munchies too.

S’open, I called, lulling my head that way.

The door swung inward, and Thane swept inside.

Hey! I greeted with a wide smile as I waved a handful of potato chip crumbs at him. It’s Nathaniel. Welcome, Nathaniel.

Two years my senior, Thane was three or four inches shorter than me, yet his presence was so large I rarely remembered that. Except today… Today, he seemed tiny, like an itty-bitty pocket Thane.

He was just adorable.

Resembling the Marvel action figure, Falcon, he prowled about two steps forward before jarring to a halt and gaping at me in dismay.

Motherfucker, he breathed as three more guys poured in behind him, crowding the room to capacity. You’re worse off than I thought.

Around him, Parker, Damien, and Foster littered the floor like an infestation of grief group members descending on their lost sheep.

They’d come to collect me back into the fold, I could tell, and it was gonna suck to be them because I was going to disappoint them. Big time.

Foster’s KJ Apa smile died on his lips when he saw me, while Damien’s shoulders slumped, and his dark, Robbie Amell eyebrows furrowed with disheartened woe.

Parker, the blunt one, grimaced and pinched his Alex Pettyfer nose, obviously not a fan of how my room smelled. "Wow. He’s stoned, like, right now, isn’t he?"

Hey, shh… I warned, pressing a finger to my lips, only to ruin the pose with a snicker. You want my mother to hear that shit? She’ll break into my stash and use all the best drugs for herself, if she learns I’m holding.

As Damien winced, Foster shook his head sadly. Ivey, man, what the hell?

Laughing off their concerns, I waved a dismissive hand. Guys, whatever. Relax. I’m fine. It’s just pot. Hoping to divert their attention, I lifted my chip bag in offering. Hey, you want some—? Except my bag was empty. Dude. I blinked as I glanced inside, only to find crumbs. Who the fuck ate all my chips?

Oh well. I still had cookies to share with my guests.

But when I reached for them, the carton had been ripped open, and there were no cookies left.

The culprits had spread crumbs all over my chest and lap, though. The bastards.

Find them, Thane ordered with a stern voice as he snapped his fingers in command.

I nodded in agreement because, yeah, let’s find those cookie-thieving sons of bitches. But as soon as I haltingly slung my legs over the side of my desk to slide onto the floor and help investigate, Thane marched up to me, looking very severe as he stared straight into my eyes.

Hudson, he said.

I straightened my back, trying to look as official and serious as he did. Yes, Sam Wilson? I asked, borrowing his grave tone of voice.

He shocked the shit out of me, though, by cupping my cheeks in both hands. It’s okay, he assured. We’re gonna help you.

I laughed. Right in his face. Help me? I asked, shaking my head in utter confusion. "Help me with what? Man, I’m great. I’m better than great. I’m the best I’ve ever been."

Around us, the other three were following Thane’s orders and tossing my room by yanking back the comforter on my bed and searching through my sheets, opening drawers, and peering inside, looking under my mattress, in shoe boxes…everywhere.

I blinked at them, distracted by their tenacity.

Wow, I murmured, shaking my head in wonder as I returned my attention to Thane. You just say jump, and they all jump, don’t they? Except… Tipping my head in thought, I glanced back at his crew with a pensive squint because they seemed short on numbers.

Let’s see. We had one, two, three…

Aha. Keene and Alec, the two youngest members of my merry grief counseling group, were missing.

Didn’t want the kiddies to see what you planned to do to me today, hmm? I asked, figuring my boys must be here to kick my ass for not following their special rules and attending all their special meetings.

No, Thane corrected. "We didn’t want them to see you like this. They look up to you, Ive. You’re, like, some kind of cool hero to them."

"Because I am cool, I growled, beginning to lose my patience. I’m the only one of us who’s lost his virginity. And you’re about to piss me off if you don’t stop searching my damn room." I slid a glare toward the other three who didn’t even stop what they were doing.

With a bitter hiss, I rolled my eyes and muttered, Pricks.

Hudson, Thane said softly, looking all sympathetic and full of pity. You need help. You need to come back.

"Back to what? I snarled. I’m right where I want to be. Then I shoved him away. Now, get the fuck out of my face. Don’t you have to go help Captain America in his beef with Iron Man or some shit?"

He lifted his hands as he stepped in reverse, letting me know he’d give me space. Then he said in that same calm, understanding voice, You need to get back to another meeting. It’s been three months.

I scoffed. I told you; I don’t need your damn meetings anymore.

Yes, you do, he encouraged softly. You had a real breakthrough at that last one.

Breakthrough? I blurted out an incredulous laugh. "Is that what you call it? Felt more like water torture to me. And I didn’t even get any damn water to hydrate me."

Hud—

Newsflash, Eisner, I broke in. "Meetings don’t work for me. I was more fucked up after that day than I was before joining the dumb group. I went so wild it caused my dad to leave because he couldn’t handle me anymore. When my voice broke with emotion, I clenched my teeth and hissed out my frustrations. Now my parents are getting a divorce, my mother blames me, and everything is screwed. So excuse me if I found my own fucking way to deal."

Damn, Ivey, Thane breathed as he reached out to clasp my shoulder. I’m sorry to hear that about your parents.

"Get your hands off, I demanded, shrugging him away as the pain and helplessness of reality began to resurface. I don’t want your pity."

He was just bringing all the bad back again, and I wanted to stay away from that, in my happy place, full of colors and birds and potato chips, where the floaty feelings could carry me away from this agony. Thane was the one who was tripping if he thought meetings were better than marijuana.

That session only sucked because it was so raw and genuine, he insisted. And it was the toughest step. But it was just the beginning of getting you where you need to be. So, thankfully, the rest should be⁠—

"Should be what? I challenged harshly. Should be absolute bullshit because you have no idea what you’re talking about? Because you never lost anyone?"

Properly chastised because he was the only member of the group who hadn’t been close to someone who’d died, Thane shut his mouth and took a differential step in reverse.

Feeling the power shift between us, I slid off the desk and took an intimidating step forward to tower over him. You don’t know what this is like. You’ve never been through it.

Hey, Parker snapped, shoving my shoulder back. Don’t talk to him like that. Thane’s got your best interests at heart, more than anyone else on this whole damn planet.

Hey, I mimicked, shoving him in return. Don’t fucking tell me what to do.

I probably would’ve shoved him again, but Damien stepped between us. And there was just something restraining about Damien’s solid, quiet presence that stopped me in my tracks.

"Thane might not know what it’s like, but the rest of us do, he rasped. And he’s right. You’re at the toughest part, but you gotta see it through before it gets better. Which it will. Trust me."

Except you didn’t kill your sister, I argued, slicing him with a pointed glare that made him blink in surprise. You didn’t cause her death. My attention shifted toward Foster next. "And you didn’t kill your brother. Saving Parker for last, I finished with, Nor your parents."

Maybe I did, Damien countered, making me whirl toward him, shocked that he’d come back with any retort at all. His light, whiskey-colored eyes swirled with emotion. If I’d gone upstairs sooner that day, he added with a voice going hoarse, "maybe I could’ve gotten help for Thalia in time to save her. Maybe I did kill her."

If I hadn’t insisted that my family go to the beach the day my brother drowned, Foster added softly, he’d still be alive today.

And maybe my parents wouldn’t have wrecked if I hadn’t upset them the way I did as they were walking out the door, Parker choked out before he bowed his head shamefully and looked away.

And you didn’t kill Brett, anyway, Thane told me, stepping forward again. We all dare each other to do stupid shit all the time. Nothing bad ever comes of it. Who the hell knew issuing him one idiotic challenge was going to end the way it did? It was a tragic accident.

God, I was tired of hearing that phrase.

Tragic accident.

There’d been nothing accidental about me telling my best friend to jump from one tree to another. I might as well have just pushed him myself.

Come back, Thane urged softly. And we won’t tell your mother that you’re using drugs.

That is…if she hasn’t already figured it out from the smell alone, Parker added dryly as he waved a hand in front of his face.

Go ahead and tell her, I bluffed with an uncaring roll of my eyes, even as my gut tightened with dread. I didn’t particularly want to add another item to the list of reasons why she hated me. It’s just a little weed. She’d probably join me if she knew I had it.

Thane opened my desk drawer and sighed dismally. Except weed doesn’t come in rock form, he told me as he lifted the clear baggie I’d just put in there and shook it tauntingly.

Hey! I swiped out my hand to retrieve it. I just got that today, I muttered, scowling when he pulled it away before I could get my hand on it. I haven’t even gotten to try it yet.

And you’re not going to. Rifling through the drawer some more, Thane fished around until he found what was left of the joint I’d smoked earlier. Taking that as well, he glanced up at me and asked, Is there any more?

Dude, I smarted back. If you’re that desperate for a hit, I can just hook you up with my supplier. You don’t gotta steal all my shit.

He didn’t think my joke was funny, though.

That’s it, he growled, shoving both the crack and marijuana into his pocket. This has gone far enough. I’m getting your mother. Right now.

No! Dodging in front of him to block the exit, I yanked my pocketknife from my jeans and flipped it open in warning. Don’t you dare fucking bug my mother. My chin trembled before I added, She’s been through enough of my issues. Besides, I know what I’m doing.

Thane didn’t back off, though. While the other three reared in reverse, he only blinked at my blade as if betrayed. Then he lifted his chin, daring me to go for his throat. No, you don’t, he murmured. "You’re ruining your life, and I can’t just stand here and watch you do it. So, please… Come back to us. We’ll help you work through your issues so you won’t have any more to bug her with."

Are you deaf? I motioned wildly around me, the knife swinging along with my hand. "I’m not going to another meeting. Maybe it works for you guys. But not me. I’m done."

Man, you’re one of us, Foster said, his voice pleading. Don’t do this.

"I’m not doing shit, I cried. I’m just trying to live my life over here. You fuckers are the only thing invading my peace right now."

We’re worried about you, Damien said.

Yeah, Parker agreed. "I’m supposed to be the most fucked up asshole in the group, and you’re stealing my thunder, ya douchebag."

Then, let me help you with that, I told him, spreading my arms wide in invitation before bowing to His Highness. I quit. I’m out of the group. There. I waved the knife at him in a shooing gesture. Now you can own the most-fucked-up crown and be king of the grief group again. Enjoy.

Hudson, Thane started pathetically.

No! I snapped, glaring at him. I’ve had enough. I told y’all; I’m done. Now get lost.

Alec and Keene won’t⁠—

Out! I bellowed, pointing the blade toward the door.

Hey! my mother’s voice returned just as harshly from the other end of the house. Keep it down back there or your friends will have to go.

See, I hissed at Thane and lifted my brows in warning. "You’re disturbing her. Are you really going to keep this up and make my poor, alcoholic mother pause her Netflix show, put down her cigarette and beer, and get out of her La-Z-Boy to storm all the way back here so she can kick your asses out herself? Because that’s all that’ll happen. She doesn’t give a shit if I destroy my life or not; she just doesn’t want to be bothered. Now, have a little decency…and fucking go."

Parker lifted his hands in dismay and looked to Thane for help. And now he’s stealing my sarcasm too. What the hell?

Oh, buddy, I warned him with a threatening shake of my head. I already killed one friend. Keep it up, and we’ll make it two.

Parker only snickered with smug challenge. Bring it.

Done. I stepped toward him, ready to throw down.

When I started to lift the knife again, Thane dived between us. Okay, alright, he relented, lifting a pacifying hand at both me and Parker to keep us apart. We’ll go, he told me. We’ll leave.

Thank you, I breathed, heaving out a grateful breath.

It was about damn time.

"But this is not you, Hudson. Something is seriously wrong, and it’s scaring the fuck out of me. I mean, doesn’t it scare you?"

Every damn day. Why did he think I’d started to hide behind a protective haze of illegal smoke? Why did he think I was trying to kick him out so fervently right now?

Because I hated them? As if. I loved these irritating idiots more than anyone.

You’re only fourteen. You have your whole life⁠—

"I thought you were leaving," I bit out, feeling everything inside me begin to tremble as if gearing up to take over the last bit of control I had on myself.

We are. We’re going. But I just… I want you to know we’re always here if you need us. And you’re always welcome back. No matter what.

Great. Fine. I waved them away. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out.

Don’t take too long figuring this out, Foster said, glancing at me sadly as he went. I miss you, man. I miss relaxed, chill Hudson who isn’t bothered by anything.

I ground my teeth, refusing to admit I missed him too.

Parker just sniffed and shook his head before following Blondie into the hall.

Good riddance, I almost snarled after him, but my gut tightened with dread, hoping this wasn’t actually the last time I heard one of his dry, sardonic cracks.

Damien stopped silently in front of me before leaving next, and he surprised me with a big bear hug, not seeming to care that I was still holding a weapon.

That got to me the most. My throat closed over, and my eyes burned. When he finally pulled away, his gaze sought mine, but it took me a second to find the courage to look back.

When I did, he smiled sadly, letting me know he cared.

And fuck.

My high was gone.

The pressure—that dreaded weightiness that never stopped trying to push its way out from the inside of my head—crept back in, threatening to consume me.

I hated the pressure. The pressure hurt.

It ruined my mood and made me have awful thoughts. Made me do awful things, like pull knives on my best friends.

I needed to stop the pressure at all costs.

Almost wanting to call Damien back as he followed the other two out the door, I swallowed thickly, then glanced at Thane, who lingered last.

I didn’t know how to tell him I was doing this for his own good without making him think he had to stay longer and try harder, so I didn’t even bother.

Well? I demanded roughly, hoping he’d hurry the hell up before my chin wobbled and ruined everything.

Pain littered his gaze, and his shoulders slumped. Love you, brother, he whispered before he left with the rest.

And then, the door clicked shut after him, and I was all alone, already missing them.

Fuckers, I muttered, heaving out the pent-up emotions I’d been keeping in and hating this feeling they’d put inside me. I wiped my arm across my burning eyes. But God…

The weight of their disappointment dragged at my conscience and irritated the pressure. Dropping the knife to the ground, I gripped my head and tried to squeeze out whatever was in there, invading my thoughts.

I wanted my friends back. After three years of sharing our deepest, darkest secrets with each other, we’d come to be like family. I loved the assholes. I didn’t want to lose them.

But being around them made it worse, and the pressure would destroy me if it got any worse, and then I’d destroy them.

I’d rather cut my own wrists than let that happen.

Which made everything just…suck.

I swept out a hand and knocked my empty cookie package off the desk and onto the floor.

When that didn’t leave a satisfying enough impact, I kicked the side of my desk, only to stub my toe.

Fuck.

With a wince, I retreated to the bed and slumped onto my mattress, propping my ankle on the opposite thigh to check the damage.

But there wasn’t even a red mark.

The pressure was growing steadily in my head, though, pushing at my temples and threatening to crack right through my skull.

I needed some relief. I needed it now.

Slipping my phone from my pocket, I called a number that was already on my most-recently-called list.

Seconds later, a familiar voice answered. What? You got a problem with my last batch or something?

Hey, Bones, I responded, closing my eyes in anticipation of that next glorious escape from the pressure. No, nothing like that. It was fine. I just… Some friends took everything I had, is all. So I need to make another purchase, if you can hook me up again.

1

FAITH

December 2023

Some days I hated Genesis Gusano more than others, and today was one of those days.

An early arriver to every class I attended, I sat in my seat precisely in the center of the lecture hall with my things laid out neatly, ready for the professor to begin.

But my attention was nowhere near the front. Oh no. I was too busy chewing on the end of my pen and intently ogling the piece of man candy I could see clearly through the open doorway at the side of the room.

He was leaning on the very bench he usually sat on, resting a hip against the side, legs crossed at the ankles, one hand gripping the top of the backrest, and the other pressing a phone to his ear.

And as he talked to whoever was on the other end of the conversation, my gaze strayed over his biceps and down. Typically, he wore thick black leather wrist cuffs, one on each side. But today, the left one was replaced with a watch.

Must be new.

When he lifted that hand to negligently run his fingers through his wispy straight mess of hair, I swallowed thickly and melted a little deeper into my chair. Because he had the best damn hair ever, I swear. Dark with a surprise of lighter highlights, it was straight enough that it spiked on the sides where it was cut shorter. The top was longer and sloppy, however, and it never failed to make me just want to…play in it. For hours.

Throwing his head back, he let out a full, throaty laugh, and my stomach quivered with need.

But gah, everything about him was just so dreamy.

Which brought my mind right back to Genesis.

The bitch.

Reason number one why I hated her was simple enough. She’d very nearly gotten me expelled from school.

It had all started freshman year when I’d stupidly become friends with her after we met in a gen-ed science lab and joined the same study group. We’d actually gotten along really well that first semester. We’d partied together, studied together, chased boys together.

Then she realized I was an awesome student who got good grades.

The next thing I knew, during the beginning of semester number two, when we’d purposely taken an English class together, she stole one of my papers before crying foul on me, and saying I had plagiarized her.

Yeah. Don’t even get me started on that.

They’d given me a failing grade for the entire course and had considered dismissing me from the university completely for a hot, tense minute there.

But then Genesis had stepped forward on my behalf and appealed to the council, telling them she’d forgiven me—ha!—so they should give me another chance to prove myself worthy.

Big of her, I know.

She’d effectively convinced everyone that she was a beacon of light and honesty, a victim who’d risen above the ashes to save the world with her graciousness, one plagiarizing freshman friend at a time.

Since it’d been my first offense, I’d been allowed to remain at Haverick, and they hadn’t fined me or thrown me in jail—all situations that had real possibilities of happening.

Oh, but now there was a permanent mark on my transcript that said I was a cheater.

All because I’d trusted the wrong, lying, back-stabbing nightmare of a whore, otherwise known as Genesis Gusano.

In the past two years, I’d worked my GPA back up to a respectable—enough—number and managed to remain in school.

And I had avoided Genesis like the plague.

Until this year, when we ended up sharing yet another class together.

Statistics.

Sadly, she was a business major, the same as me. So I guess crossing paths with her was inevitable and bound to happen again sooner or later.

I would’ve preferred later. Or never. But here we were.

Honestly, I wasn’t sure if she’d even seen me yet, or if she had, that she actually recognized or remembered me as the girl whose life she’d very nearly ruined. Hell, she probably hadn’t thought about me once since freshman year or lost any sleep over what she’d done.

While I still stewed daily and plotted all forms of revenge that I knew I’d never actually carry out.

Which brought me to reason number two why I hated her.

Him.

I didn’t even know his name, and yet, I could tell you what his favorite shirt was—or at least which one he liked to wear the most. It was a faded black thing with the Rolling Stones tongue logo on the front. But he’d worn that on Wednesday, so today he wore a plain peach V-neck that—huh—I’d never seen him in before. It was a little baggy on him, making me wonder if it was even his, to begin with.

His jeans weren’t too baggy, though. Nor too tight. They fit him just right. And he wore them just right too. I mean, damn, did he wear them right. I bet he looked amazing in nothing but those jeans.

There was the slightest bit of scruff on his jaw. And the rest of his face…mmm. His face got to me the most. He had these eyebrows, I’m telling you… He could cock them into the sexiest expression, and I went a little breathless every time he did. I don’t believe he even tried to look that yummy when he did it, either. It just came naturally.

He was on the taller, leaner side, but the muscle in his arms told me he wasn’t scrawny under all those clothes. He could hold his own in a brawl.

He didn’t carry himself like a fighter, though. Somehow, every move he made—every tilt of his head, flip of his hair, shift of the arm—was so laid back and relaxed that I couldn’t picture anything bothering him enough to even put him into the fighting frame of mind.

I don’t know how he did it, but he seemed like the type who could get comfortable, kick his feet up, and make himself right at home no matter where he went or what type of situation he found himself in. He just rolled with shit.

I envied him for that. And with every fiber of my being, I wanted to be in his life. I wanted him in my life. I wanted him to help me relax so that I wasn’t always so freaking uptight and anal about every little thing. And I wanted to enjoy stuff the way he seemed to.

But sadly, he was already taken.

He hadn’t been taken the first time I’d seen him, though. Of course, that had been all the way back during freshman year when I’d been young and dumb and still friends with Genesis. She’d been there with me, in fact, the first night I spotted him at some fraternity party.

Gen and I had just gotten our Solo cups filled at the keg and were sipping through the froth as we strolled among the people, looking for a place to land.

What about over there? Genesis asked. Those guys look cute.

I glanced over and cringed. Nope. They looked like rich, conceited, preppy assholes to me.

I’d had enough bad experiences with that type during high school. I could do without a repeat.

Why not? Genesis whined. They look loaded. I bet we could get them to buy us a ton of shit.

Yeah, she probably could. Pretty blond thing like her, she could have them eating out of her hand in no time. But I didn’t feel so lucky.

With a sigh, I kept walking only to slow to a stop when I barely caught sight of him, stretched out on a couch with his ankles crossed and hanging off one end while his head lay on the opposite armrest, pillowed on top of his folded arms. His eyes were shut, and he appeared for all the world as if he was napping.

During a freaking rager.

A bolt of electric current shot through me as I took in all of him, lifting the hairs on my forearms in primal awareness, and suddenly no one else in the universe seemed to exist but this guy.

Eyebrows arching with interest, I scanned the full length of him again, deciding his body wasn’t lacking in the least. And from that point on, I was hooked.

There, I said to Genesis, leaning her way as I lifted my voice to be heard. I pointed at him. Let’s go over there. Faithy wants.

Oh? Curious, Gen lifted up onto her toes and glanced around until she spotted the hottie as well. When she did, she arched her eyebrows as if impressed and glanced back at me. Nice, she agreed. Then she shoved me from behind, urging me in his direction. "So what’re you waiting for, Faithy? Go introduce yourself."

I’d nodded to agree and started his way, only to get within about six feet of him when two drunks streaked past me so they could pounce on him, hopping onto his legs and chest to shout him awake. He lurched upright and began to tussle with them, grinning and cursing enough to let me know they were friends.

Immediately losing my nerve, I whirled away, grabbed Gen’s arm, and dragged her off with me.

Wait, what? Where’re we going?

Away.

Away, why? You’re interested, right? So let’s go back.

But I think I was a little too interested, and it scared me.

After that night, I saw him around campus maybe half a dozen or more times, sometimes when I was with Genesis, sometimes without her. But every time, I would either chicken out and not be able to approach him, or he’d be gone by the time I reached the spot I’d last seen him.

Then the whole plagiarism thing went down, and my life changed dramatically.

I stopped partying, stopped peopling, stopped paying attention to the campus around me. I withdrew inside myself, bowed my head, put my nose to the grindstone, and plowed ahead, determined to just graduate so I could get the hell out of here. And I didn’t notice my dream guy hanging around anywhere again.

Not until this year, anyway.

Re-spotting him had happened about two months ago. I’d been sitting right where I was now, lining up my textbook, notepad, and pen, as usual, when my pen had rolled off the side of my desk.

I leaned out of my chair to pick it up when I naturally glanced over. And right there, out the open doorway, he sat.

Forgetting all about my pen, I straightened in surprise.

But what the hell! Where had he come from?

Where had he been?

After two years of not seeing him, he was like a blast of fresh, reviving air. My lungs suddenly seemed to breathe in sweeter oxygen; the sunlight shifted out from behind the clouds, brightening the entire day with the most brilliant colors; and every feature about him stood out in sharp, crisp focus.

My flesh started to prickle with that same electrical awareness again, and pressure tightened deep in my gut, tingling through me.

It was as if no time had passed at all. I still felt that immediate punch of longing, and I swallowed thickly as my eyes burned from how hard I stared, afraid he’d disappear again if I blinked or moved or breathed.

On the very bench he was resting against now, he was slumped back and chilling, one ankle resting on the thigh of his opposite leg with his Vans bobbing to some nonexistent music in his head as he played on his phone, completely absorbed in whatever he was watching.

When he lifted a hand to sweep his hair out of his eyes, my gaze got caught on one of his wrist cuffs as its silver rivets glinted in the sunlight. The cuffs probably should’ve made him look Goth or metal or metrosexual or something—all types that didn’t typically stir me—but it made him look undeniably hot.

Licking my lips, I studied the rest of him, utterly captivated and wondering if I had time to pop out of class real quick and actually meet him.

He surprised me, though, when he abruptly slid his ankle off his leg and held out his foot to purposely trip some girl who was walking by. He didn’t even glance up to see who she was, he just kept playing on his phone as if he had no idea what he was doing.

The girl stumbled over his shin and cried out in indignant protest before she whirled back to confront him.

But all he did was lower his phone as he glanced up at her, and one of his sexy eyebrows arched in invitation as he replied, saying something that looked as if it had to be deliciously naughty. Then he took her hand and tugged her down.

Right onto his lap.

I kid you not.

It was the sexiest move I’d ever seen play out in real life.

I mean, it wasn’t even me he’d done it to, and my breasts tightened as I watched. Then, I squeezed my thighs together in an attempt to tamp down my reaction and drew in a shaking, affected breath.

The blonde on his lap screeched in surprise, only for the sound to muffle silent as he curled a hand around the back of her neck and drew her in for a long, heated kiss.

My lips parted and my throat went dry as I watched the girl go soft and pliant against him, gripping the front of his shirt and leaning in to kiss him back.

Breathless, I found myself nodding, not blaming her one bit for falling victim to his charm.

Until she pulled away, and I realized