CHAPTER ONE
ALLIE
*This book contains sensitive subject matter. If you are easily triggered or have experienced serious trauma, this book may not be for you. Not recommended for persons under 18 years of age.
I startle at the sound of someone knocking on the door. I’d been too caught up in my primping to notice the time. I should’ve paid more attention to the dwindling minutes as I unpacked boxes and set up my new dorm room, the first of a two-room residential suite on campus. If I had, I wouldn’t be rushing around with only an hour to turn into a more put-together version of myself—meant to turn heads and give my self-esteem a healthy dose of attention.
It’s been a non-stop anxious rush of sifting through my clothes, undoing all the hard work I’d done, and rethinking my new daring haircut since it has been decidedly stubborn, curling where it’s not supposed to, not willing to give a girl a break.
The quick, excited raps on the door tell me Ryan and Scott are already here for the fun-filled night they promised me, and my time for miracles is up. After giving myself the once-over, I hurry across the room to let them in.
Both men standing on the other side give me exaggerated double-takes, then check my room number with mock confusion.
“I’m sorry, but I thought our friend Allie told us to meet her here,” Ryan’s gravelly voice teases. “We must have the wrong room.”
“Oh, stop it.” I punch him lightly on the arm. “It’s just a haircut. Do you like it?” I ask hopefully, playing with the short hairs at the base of my pixie cut.
It’s a drastic change from my previous long, blonde waves, but I thought what better way to start my new life at UCLA than with a new me.
“If you weren’t like my annoying little sister, I’d have sex with you. Maybe even twice,” he deadpans, shrugging as if he’d be doing me a favour.
Little does he know; not everyone wants to sleep with him.
The number might be staggeringly low, but still.
Though with all the attention he gets, he’s never been a player. He has treated every girl he’s been with like there’s no one more special. Any girl who lands Ryan will be a very lucky girl.
I can admit there were a few years where I pined over my extremely drool-worthy best friend, but it was our friendship that evolved and grew, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.
“And if you weren’t like my irritating older brother, I’d still not want to. ‘Cause…ew. You’re obviously repulsive.” I fake a shudder.
“Ouch, Allie. You’re hard on a guy’s ego.”
“Yours is tough enough to handle it.” I pat him on his incredibly hard chest, and he flattens his hand over mine, holding it there as he turns his mock offence into one of his show-stopping grins.
The guy’s a ten, and he knows it.
“Are you two kids done messing around?” Scott cuts in, clutching the top of the doorway, the biceps of a military man bulging, then taps the watch on the hand still anchored. “We have a party to get to.”
“C’mon, you love it when I pick at Ryan.”
“Damn right I do, but Charlotte has a new roommate she wants us to meet before we go. And for me to get full enjoyment of your mocking, I need at least ten minutes of good material. We just don’t have the time.”
“Always so punctual. Such a well-trained soldier,” I tease.
He casually shrugs. “I aim to please.”
After locking my door, we head across campus toward Charlotte’s dorm.
It seems so weird not having her as a roommate or not being joined at the hip the way we were all through high school. But with our different majors and classes on opposite ends of the school grounds, it sadly made more sense to live apart while using our two brawny friends for our buddy system--one when Scott’s not on leave from the military.
I feel so tiny walking between them—these tall, muscular guys. At a meagre five foot three inches, my head barely reaches Scott’s shoulder, making me approximately a foot shorter than either of them. Add to their towering statures Ryan’s piercing blue eyes and calculated mess of hair, as well as Scott’s buzzed head and five o’clock shadow, the two are mouthwatering for sure. If it weren’t for the familial friendships we’ve formed, my stomach would be just as twisted at the sight of them as all the other girls who flock when they enter a room.
I’ve known this insane duo since senior year—after Charlotte and I knocked our school bully out of the top of her hierarchy. Ryan and Scott applauded our perfectly executed dethroning and decided we were “cool enough” to hang out with them. We’ve been friends ever since.
Once we reach Charlotte’s room, the door opens, and I glimpse the girl—who I assume to be Hannah—through the broad shoulders in front of me. With her long, auburn waves flowing down her back, perfect delicate features, and a tall, curvy body that would rival any movie star, I know the guys are not-so-subtly drooling prior to her even speaking. Before she can, Charlotte skips up beside her.
“I see the gang’s here. Hannah, this big bear on the left is Scott.” She signals with her hand, and he offers his with a firm shake. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she replies with curiosity swirling in her eyes.
Motioning to the right, Charlotte continues with a wide smirk, “And this big ape is Ryan.”
Unfazed by her teasing, he seamlessly turns on the charm by drawing up the side of his mouth. Extending his muscled forearm, he keeps his eyes locked solely on the new girl. “Hey, Hannah.”
“Hi, Ryan.” His name smoothly rolls off her tongue in a breathy, sultry tone, and I know he’s got her. I shake my head as he holds her captive with his alluring blue gaze, knowing it’s nearly impossible to look away once it falls on you. Though Charlotte breaks the spell when she turns the introductions to me.
“Hi, Allie.” Hannah shakes my hand, and we spend the next few minutes getting a little more acquainted before we leave. After we lock up, we start the walk to the Beta house where the party’s being held. It goes by quickly, and within minutes, we’re walking toward the vibrating atmosphere of the stately, two-storey chapter house.
The guy manning the door is just as large, if not larger, than the guys flanking me. He’s monitoring everyone trying to enter. Charlotte gives him the password, and he gives us a choice of colourful Jell-O shots as our rite of passage. The cool, blue jelly slides down easily. I lick my lips, anxious to keep moving.
As we step inside the large entry, my eyes immediately take in the flashing lights and dancing bodies, and I get hit with the odour of alcohol, and something I’m sure isn’t medicinal. I wrinkle my nose but follow as everyone makes their rounds, chatting, getting drinks. Hannah, Charlotte and I walk hand-in-hand to the makeshift dance floor while Scott and Ryan get lost in the crowd.
Already swaying our hips and timing our steps with the music, we weave our way to the centre and create a small circle of our own. I close my eyes and get lost in the beat, tipping my head back and letting the rhythm flow through my limbs. It feels amazing until hands slither around my waist and a warm body presses against my back.
The stench of beer is strong on the guy’s breath when he mumbles incoherently next to my ear, turning my stomach. I try to pry his fingers off, but either he’s too drunk to notice, or he just doesn’t care. I’m about to light into him when a deep voice speaks over my shoulder.
“Sorry, they didn’t have the blackberry.” I follow the smooth sound to the broad shoulders taking their place beside me. The handsome stranger passes me a can of black cherry White Claw and smiles affectionately, his green eyes almost twinkling under the moving lights.
With the strands of his obsidian black hair brushed back, a deep red dress shirt perfectly fitted to his toned chest—the two top buttons undone—and the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, he looks like a man among boys.
He glares down at where the guy’s hands are tightening around me.
“I guess this is what I get for having such a beautiful girlfriend. I leave for one minute, and someone’s already trying to get his hands on you.”
My cheeks warm, catching the bold compliment, and a small smile curls my lips.
The sleazeball flicks his eyes between me and the helpful stranger, then quickly releases me and backs away. “Sorry, man, I didn’t know.”
“Next time, ask a girl if she wants your hands on her… Now, apologize.”
“Are you serious?” he scoffs, knowing his pride is about to take a hit.
“I said apologize,” my fake boyfriend repeats, all signs of lightness gone from his expression, his tone threatening. He takes a menacing step forward.
“Okay, okay! I’m sorry! I should have asked. Are we good?”
“That’s up to her.” He turns his jade eyes on mine, and my heart flutters. “What do you say, Pixie? Are we good?” he repeats, letting his gaze rake over me.
I bite back a grin, liking the nickname he just gave me, and do the same, tracing over all the hard edges of his athletic body.
“Yeah, we’re good.”
“Are these guys bothering you, Allie?” Scott strides up, ready to go brother bear on my company—wanted and not. He guides me behind him.
I place my hand on his arm and pull back. “Everything’s fine. He was just leaving.” I gesture with my head toward the handsy one. He looks thoroughly confused, but he smartly hurries away.
“And this one?” Scott raises an eyebrow, puffing up his chest and eyeing him as if to say he could easily take him.
To his credit, my new friend glances at the tats bulging on Scott’s bicep but doesn’t cower.
“This one was really hoping she’d dance with him,” the stranger answers instead. “But if you two are dating…”
“No!” I reply a little too quickly as Scott says, “We could be.”
I threaten bodily harm with my eyes, then turn back to a look of confusion.
“We’re not dating. He’s just a friend,” I clarify, the resulting smile making the butterflies in my stomach take flight. “I’d love to dance.”
I quickly press my drink against Scott’s chest, then grab the large, waiting hand and pull the owner farther onto the dance floor, away from where eyes are dubiously watching.
I dangle my wrists over his shoulders as he circles my waist, pulling me close. He takes the lead, and I immediately follow, loving the way his firm body feels against mine. My eyes flutter closed, but instead of getting lost in the music, I concentrate on how he makes me feel—so small and sheltered in his strong embrace. He absently drags his finger up and down my spine.
A shiver rolls over me, and I can feel the side of his mouth push up next to my cheek.
Okay, maybe not so absently.
“I’m Nick, by the way.”
“My name’s Allie.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Allie.” My name rolls off his tongue like he’s going to enjoy repeating it.
“You too.”
We continue to make small talk as the songs change, no longer paying attention to the tempos as we stay tucked in our own little world, swaying to the music, getting to know each other. After what must be four or five songs, Nick opens his mouth to speak again but closes it immediately after.
“What is it?” I ask, curious about what he was about to say.
He expels a long breath, then… “Is your friend always so…protective?”
I laugh at the irony. “Asks the guy who claimed to be the boyfriend of a girl he just met, just to save her from a groping.”
He smirks as if to say, ‘Touché,’ not looking ashamed in the least.
“It was the only thing I could think to do that didn’t involve hitting the guy after the way he grabbed you.”
“But what if I wanted him to touch me?” I challenge.
“You didn’t,” he states assuredly, his mouth tipping as if he’s keeping a secret.
I match his grin and cross my wrists behind his neck, settling in.
He’s right. And I like that he could read the situation enough to tell.
He exhales a contented sigh, then continues his exploration of my spine, feathering his fingertips up and down it.
“I’m glad he backed away when he did. Because if he hadn’t, I’m afraid I might not have been so diplomatic.”
“Now who’s the protective one?”
He looks at me unapologetically.
“I can’t help it when someone touches something I want.” He lowers his mouth next to my ear and gravels his voice. “You really are beautiful.”
Heat coils through my body, quickly spreading up the back of my neck, then he lithely pulls away as if he didn’t just liquefy my core.
“So, is Allie your full name?”
“No, it’s Allyson. But the people close to me call me—”
“Allie! Allie! Have you seen Hannah?” Ryan pushes through the crowd and clamps his hands on my shoulders to spin me around, yanking me out of Nick’s hold.
“Do you know this guy?” Nick questions, quickly growing agitated, ready to come to my defence again.
“I’m her best friend. Who the fuck are you?” Ryan barks, clearly upset.
I grab Nick’s hand behind me and weave our fingers. “His name is Nick, and we were just dancing... Now, what’s wrong? Wasn’t she with you?”
“She said she needed air, but it’s been twenty minutes. No one’s seen her.”
My eyes flick toward the window just as flashing lights and sirens rush to a stop near the woods.
Fear rises in my chest as my stomach ties itself into a knot.
I blink, and Ryan’s gone, charging outside. I start to race after him but spin around, my gaze immediately finding Nick. He grabs my hand. “Come on.”
Using his large body, he clears a path toward the exit, towing me behind him. The moment we cross the threshold, my feet falter. There are emergency vehicles everywhere. Red and blue flashing lights.
An eeriness settles in the air.
People crowd the woodline where the paramedics disappeared, and I get hit with the realization that lives are about to change.
It’s been a non-stop anxious rush of sifting through my clothes, undoing all the hard work I’d done, and rethinking my new daring haircut since it has been decidedly stubborn, curling where it’s not supposed to, not willing to give a girl a break.
The quick, excited raps on the door tell me Ryan and Scott are already here for the fun-filled night they promised me, and my time for miracles is up. After giving myself the once-over, I hurry across the room to let them in.
Both men standing on the other side give me exaggerated double-takes, then check my room number with mock confusion.
“I’m sorry, but I thought our friend Allie told us to meet her here,” Ryan’s gravelly voice teases. “We must have the wrong room.”
“Oh, stop it.” I punch him lightly on the arm. “It’s just a haircut. Do you like it?” I ask hopefully, playing with the short hairs at the base of my pixie cut.
It’s a drastic change from my previous long, blonde waves, but I thought what better way to start my new life at UCLA than with a new me.
“If you weren’t like my annoying little sister, I’d have sex with you. Maybe even twice,” he deadpans, shrugging as if he’d be doing me a favour.
Little does he know; not everyone wants to sleep with him.
The number might be staggeringly low, but still.
Though with all the attention he gets, he’s never been a player. He has treated every girl he’s been with like there’s no one more special. Any girl who lands Ryan will be a very lucky girl.
I can admit there were a few years where I pined over my extremely drool-worthy best friend, but it was our friendship that evolved and grew, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.
“And if you weren’t like my irritating older brother, I’d still not want to. ‘Cause…ew. You’re obviously repulsive.” I fake a shudder.
“Ouch, Allie. You’re hard on a guy’s ego.”
“Yours is tough enough to handle it.” I pat him on his incredibly hard chest, and he flattens his hand over mine, holding it there as he turns his mock offence into one of his show-stopping grins.
The guy’s a ten, and he knows it.
“Are you two kids done messing around?” Scott cuts in, clutching the top of the doorway, the biceps of a military man bulging, then taps the watch on the hand still anchored. “We have a party to get to.”
“C’mon, you love it when I pick at Ryan.”
“Damn right I do, but Charlotte has a new roommate she wants us to meet before we go. And for me to get full enjoyment of your mocking, I need at least ten minutes of good material. We just don’t have the time.”
“Always so punctual. Such a well-trained soldier,” I tease.
He casually shrugs. “I aim to please.”
After locking my door, we head across campus toward Charlotte’s dorm.
It seems so weird not having her as a roommate or not being joined at the hip the way we were all through high school. But with our different majors and classes on opposite ends of the school grounds, it sadly made more sense to live apart while using our two brawny friends for our buddy system--one when Scott’s not on leave from the military.
I feel so tiny walking between them—these tall, muscular guys. At a meagre five foot three inches, my head barely reaches Scott’s shoulder, making me approximately a foot shorter than either of them. Add to their towering statures Ryan’s piercing blue eyes and calculated mess of hair, as well as Scott’s buzzed head and five o’clock shadow, the two are mouthwatering for sure. If it weren’t for the familial friendships we’ve formed, my stomach would be just as twisted at the sight of them as all the other girls who flock when they enter a room.
I’ve known this insane duo since senior year—after Charlotte and I knocked our school bully out of the top of her hierarchy. Ryan and Scott applauded our perfectly executed dethroning and decided we were “cool enough” to hang out with them. We’ve been friends ever since.
Once we reach Charlotte’s room, the door opens, and I glimpse the girl—who I assume to be Hannah—through the broad shoulders in front of me. With her long, auburn waves flowing down her back, perfect delicate features, and a tall, curvy body that would rival any movie star, I know the guys are not-so-subtly drooling prior to her even speaking. Before she can, Charlotte skips up beside her.
“I see the gang’s here. Hannah, this big bear on the left is Scott.” She signals with her hand, and he offers his with a firm shake. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she replies with curiosity swirling in her eyes.
Motioning to the right, Charlotte continues with a wide smirk, “And this big ape is Ryan.”
Unfazed by her teasing, he seamlessly turns on the charm by drawing up the side of his mouth. Extending his muscled forearm, he keeps his eyes locked solely on the new girl. “Hey, Hannah.”
“Hi, Ryan.” His name smoothly rolls off her tongue in a breathy, sultry tone, and I know he’s got her. I shake my head as he holds her captive with his alluring blue gaze, knowing it’s nearly impossible to look away once it falls on you. Though Charlotte breaks the spell when she turns the introductions to me.
“Hi, Allie.” Hannah shakes my hand, and we spend the next few minutes getting a little more acquainted before we leave. After we lock up, we start the walk to the Beta house where the party’s being held. It goes by quickly, and within minutes, we’re walking toward the vibrating atmosphere of the stately, two-storey chapter house.
The guy manning the door is just as large, if not larger, than the guys flanking me. He’s monitoring everyone trying to enter. Charlotte gives him the password, and he gives us a choice of colourful Jell-O shots as our rite of passage. The cool, blue jelly slides down easily. I lick my lips, anxious to keep moving.
As we step inside the large entry, my eyes immediately take in the flashing lights and dancing bodies, and I get hit with the odour of alcohol, and something I’m sure isn’t medicinal. I wrinkle my nose but follow as everyone makes their rounds, chatting, getting drinks. Hannah, Charlotte and I walk hand-in-hand to the makeshift dance floor while Scott and Ryan get lost in the crowd.
Already swaying our hips and timing our steps with the music, we weave our way to the centre and create a small circle of our own. I close my eyes and get lost in the beat, tipping my head back and letting the rhythm flow through my limbs. It feels amazing until hands slither around my waist and a warm body presses against my back.
The stench of beer is strong on the guy’s breath when he mumbles incoherently next to my ear, turning my stomach. I try to pry his fingers off, but either he’s too drunk to notice, or he just doesn’t care. I’m about to light into him when a deep voice speaks over my shoulder.
“Sorry, they didn’t have the blackberry.” I follow the smooth sound to the broad shoulders taking their place beside me. The handsome stranger passes me a can of black cherry White Claw and smiles affectionately, his green eyes almost twinkling under the moving lights.
With the strands of his obsidian black hair brushed back, a deep red dress shirt perfectly fitted to his toned chest—the two top buttons undone—and the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, he looks like a man among boys.
He glares down at where the guy’s hands are tightening around me.
“I guess this is what I get for having such a beautiful girlfriend. I leave for one minute, and someone’s already trying to get his hands on you.”
My cheeks warm, catching the bold compliment, and a small smile curls my lips.
The sleazeball flicks his eyes between me and the helpful stranger, then quickly releases me and backs away. “Sorry, man, I didn’t know.”
“Next time, ask a girl if she wants your hands on her… Now, apologize.”
“Are you serious?” he scoffs, knowing his pride is about to take a hit.
“I said apologize,” my fake boyfriend repeats, all signs of lightness gone from his expression, his tone threatening. He takes a menacing step forward.
“Okay, okay! I’m sorry! I should have asked. Are we good?”
“That’s up to her.” He turns his jade eyes on mine, and my heart flutters. “What do you say, Pixie? Are we good?” he repeats, letting his gaze rake over me.
I bite back a grin, liking the nickname he just gave me, and do the same, tracing over all the hard edges of his athletic body.
“Yeah, we’re good.”
“Are these guys bothering you, Allie?” Scott strides up, ready to go brother bear on my company—wanted and not. He guides me behind him.
I place my hand on his arm and pull back. “Everything’s fine. He was just leaving.” I gesture with my head toward the handsy one. He looks thoroughly confused, but he smartly hurries away.
“And this one?” Scott raises an eyebrow, puffing up his chest and eyeing him as if to say he could easily take him.
To his credit, my new friend glances at the tats bulging on Scott’s bicep but doesn’t cower.
“This one was really hoping she’d dance with him,” the stranger answers instead. “But if you two are dating…”
“No!” I reply a little too quickly as Scott says, “We could be.”
I threaten bodily harm with my eyes, then turn back to a look of confusion.
“We’re not dating. He’s just a friend,” I clarify, the resulting smile making the butterflies in my stomach take flight. “I’d love to dance.”
I quickly press my drink against Scott’s chest, then grab the large, waiting hand and pull the owner farther onto the dance floor, away from where eyes are dubiously watching.
I dangle my wrists over his shoulders as he circles my waist, pulling me close. He takes the lead, and I immediately follow, loving the way his firm body feels against mine. My eyes flutter closed, but instead of getting lost in the music, I concentrate on how he makes me feel—so small and sheltered in his strong embrace. He absently drags his finger up and down my spine.
A shiver rolls over me, and I can feel the side of his mouth push up next to my cheek.
Okay, maybe not so absently.
“I’m Nick, by the way.”
“My name’s Allie.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Allie.” My name rolls off his tongue like he’s going to enjoy repeating it.
“You too.”
We continue to make small talk as the songs change, no longer paying attention to the tempos as we stay tucked in our own little world, swaying to the music, getting to know each other. After what must be four or five songs, Nick opens his mouth to speak again but closes it immediately after.
“What is it?” I ask, curious about what he was about to say.
He expels a long breath, then… “Is your friend always so…protective?”
I laugh at the irony. “Asks the guy who claimed to be the boyfriend of a girl he just met, just to save her from a groping.”
He smirks as if to say, ‘Touché,’ not looking ashamed in the least.
“It was the only thing I could think to do that didn’t involve hitting the guy after the way he grabbed you.”
“But what if I wanted him to touch me?” I challenge.
“You didn’t,” he states assuredly, his mouth tipping as if he’s keeping a secret.
I match his grin and cross my wrists behind his neck, settling in.
He’s right. And I like that he could read the situation enough to tell.
He exhales a contented sigh, then continues his exploration of my spine, feathering his fingertips up and down it.
“I’m glad he backed away when he did. Because if he hadn’t, I’m afraid I might not have been so diplomatic.”
“Now who’s the protective one?”
He looks at me unapologetically.
“I can’t help it when someone touches something I want.” He lowers his mouth next to my ear and gravels his voice. “You really are beautiful.”
Heat coils through my body, quickly spreading up the back of my neck, then he lithely pulls away as if he didn’t just liquefy my core.
“So, is Allie your full name?”
“No, it’s Allyson. But the people close to me call me—”
“Allie! Allie! Have you seen Hannah?” Ryan pushes through the crowd and clamps his hands on my shoulders to spin me around, yanking me out of Nick’s hold.
“Do you know this guy?” Nick questions, quickly growing agitated, ready to come to my defence again.
“I’m her best friend. Who the fuck are you?” Ryan barks, clearly upset.
I grab Nick’s hand behind me and weave our fingers. “His name is Nick, and we were just dancing... Now, what’s wrong? Wasn’t she with you?”
“She said she needed air, but it’s been twenty minutes. No one’s seen her.”
My eyes flick toward the window just as flashing lights and sirens rush to a stop near the woods.
Fear rises in my chest as my stomach ties itself into a knot.
I blink, and Ryan’s gone, charging outside. I start to race after him but spin around, my gaze immediately finding Nick. He grabs my hand. “Come on.”
Using his large body, he clears a path toward the exit, towing me behind him. The moment we cross the threshold, my feet falter. There are emergency vehicles everywhere. Red and blue flashing lights.
An eeriness settles in the air.
People crowd the woodline where the paramedics disappeared, and I get hit with the realization that lives are about to change.
