CHAPTER ONE
GAVIN
*This book contains sensitive subject matter. If you are affected by triggers or have experienced serious trauma, it may not be for you.
Not recommended for persons under 18 years of age.
Not recommended for persons under 18 years of age.
I’m surrounded by groupies pressing against me, hands kneading my shoulders like I’m a piece of meat. They’re always trying to get my attention. Low tops. Short skirts. Whispered promises that would make most men blush. All the perks of being UCLA’s star quarterback, a spot I landed in my second year here.
I worked hard, trained harder, and built a reputation everyone wants a piece of. Now here I am, senior year, living it up as the most sought-after athlete. A football god, partying among the best of the best, out of the reach of my past.
I know I should say that I hate the way the girls sexualize me. But if I’m being honest, it’s a small sacrifice to make if they keep distracting me from my head—or at least the one where my thoughts are too heavy to lift.
They both perk up when I catch sight of a blinding smile across the room. Ignoring everyone, I focus my energy on the stunning brunette moving through the crowd, her dark caramel hair falling in large, bouncy waves down her back. She’s holding the hands of two of her girl friends, guiding them toward an opening on the dance floor.
Just as she reaches it, a guy pulls her aside. He starts rubbing against her like a dog in heat, getting way the hell too touchy for my liking, and she sure as hell doesn’t look happy about it either.
Her smile drops instantly.
Needing it like I need the sun, I unconsciously shift to get involved, but the motion gets cut short when a new guy strides toward her. His entire demeanour reeks of someone close to her. A boyfriend, maybe.
My jaw pulses just thinking that he might be.
With the help of another guy who has his back, he scares the asshole away, just in time. It’s almost comical how he runs away, his tail between his legs. Though with the liquor flowing through everyone’s veins tonight, I’m sure he’ll find someone else to lick his wounds. Hopefully, with newfound knowledge not to go in swinging—especially when he’s clearly out of his league.
The crowd temporarily parts, giving me a better view, and shit, my thoughts just dropped toward inappropriate.
She’s a goddess—every inch of her.
From her full breasts down that five-foot nine-ish frame of hers.
I’m struggling to look away.
I can’t help but torture myself as the possible boyfriend leans in next to her ear, bringing back that beautiful smile that caught my attention earlier. His hands find the divot of her waist, then her arms wrap around his shoulders. And fuck me, don’t I wish I was this lucky bastard, pressed up against that curvy body.
The lighthearted banter between them gets heavier, dropping a lead weight in my gut.
Why the hell do I care so much?
I know I should look away. I should pay attention to the tall, size-four blonde whispering in my ear—the one I already have one foot out the door with, ready to test the flexibility she’s so famously known for—but I can’t. Look. Away.
This new girl is charming me with her hips, swaying to the music. I follow the smooth lines of her heart-shaped face down to her full, pouty lips.
I silently will her to find me, and a shiver rolls over her, just before her eyes are on mine, and I can’t fucking breathe.
Her beauty literally takes my breath away.
Heart thudding in my chest, I duck around the hand tugging on my face and stare with fascination, the piercing grey eyes holding me captive. Shifting left and right, I try to keep our gazes locked because I’m scared that if I lose sight of her, she’ll slip away. Then I’ll be stuck with the same opportunists I’m always left with—the ones babbling nonsense while hitching a free ride on my popularity. I want this girl to know I noticed her. But first, I need to see if she’s taken or not.
If she returns her attention to Abercrombie, then I know there’s a label on their relationship—or at the very least, she’s committed, and I’ll have to shift mine elsewhere. If she doesn’t? Then there’s nothing stopping me from walking up to her and telling her I’m interested.
My gut drops when she turns away. But when she finds me again, blushing, my heart pounds with excitement and a feeling I can only describe as unbelievable relief—two things I haven’t felt in a very long time.
Just as I’m priming myself to get up, a train of dancers crosses our path, breaking my hold.
Shit.
I dart my eyes around, frantically searching her out until the bodies clear and I find her again.
“Are you ready to go now? Play Show and Tell like you promised?” a sultry whisper ghosts my ear.
The owner is my team’s head cheerleader. Small waist. Perky breasts. She’s a solid nine on most days. Always at the top of her class. Known to be an overachiever in everything she does. And by the activities she’s purring in my ear, she’s gunning for extra credit.
But it’s no longer her I want.
She needs to tone it down before this other girl gets the wrong idea.
“I changed my mind.” I shift farther away. “I’m not feeling it anymore.”
She huffs, dropping back.
For a second, I think she’s taken the hint, but then her hand slithers up the inside of my thigh, rubbing like she knows exactly what she wants and how to get it.
“How about now?” She sucks up my neck, then drags her teeth over my ear, her warm breath feathering just as dangerously as her fingers.
A groan slips out before I can stop it—my head involuntarily slanting back, my eyes drifting closed.
Fuck, that feels good.
I worked hard, trained harder, and built a reputation everyone wants a piece of. Now here I am, senior year, living it up as the most sought-after athlete. A football god, partying among the best of the best, out of the reach of my past.
I know I should say that I hate the way the girls sexualize me. But if I’m being honest, it’s a small sacrifice to make if they keep distracting me from my head—or at least the one where my thoughts are too heavy to lift.
They both perk up when I catch sight of a blinding smile across the room. Ignoring everyone, I focus my energy on the stunning brunette moving through the crowd, her dark caramel hair falling in large, bouncy waves down her back. She’s holding the hands of two of her girl friends, guiding them toward an opening on the dance floor.
Just as she reaches it, a guy pulls her aside. He starts rubbing against her like a dog in heat, getting way the hell too touchy for my liking, and she sure as hell doesn’t look happy about it either.
Her smile drops instantly.
Needing it like I need the sun, I unconsciously shift to get involved, but the motion gets cut short when a new guy strides toward her. His entire demeanour reeks of someone close to her. A boyfriend, maybe.
My jaw pulses just thinking that he might be.
With the help of another guy who has his back, he scares the asshole away, just in time. It’s almost comical how he runs away, his tail between his legs. Though with the liquor flowing through everyone’s veins tonight, I’m sure he’ll find someone else to lick his wounds. Hopefully, with newfound knowledge not to go in swinging—especially when he’s clearly out of his league.
The crowd temporarily parts, giving me a better view, and shit, my thoughts just dropped toward inappropriate.
She’s a goddess—every inch of her.
From her full breasts down that five-foot nine-ish frame of hers.
I’m struggling to look away.
I can’t help but torture myself as the possible boyfriend leans in next to her ear, bringing back that beautiful smile that caught my attention earlier. His hands find the divot of her waist, then her arms wrap around his shoulders. And fuck me, don’t I wish I was this lucky bastard, pressed up against that curvy body.
The lighthearted banter between them gets heavier, dropping a lead weight in my gut.
Why the hell do I care so much?
I know I should look away. I should pay attention to the tall, size-four blonde whispering in my ear—the one I already have one foot out the door with, ready to test the flexibility she’s so famously known for—but I can’t. Look. Away.
This new girl is charming me with her hips, swaying to the music. I follow the smooth lines of her heart-shaped face down to her full, pouty lips.
I silently will her to find me, and a shiver rolls over her, just before her eyes are on mine, and I can’t fucking breathe.
Her beauty literally takes my breath away.
Heart thudding in my chest, I duck around the hand tugging on my face and stare with fascination, the piercing grey eyes holding me captive. Shifting left and right, I try to keep our gazes locked because I’m scared that if I lose sight of her, she’ll slip away. Then I’ll be stuck with the same opportunists I’m always left with—the ones babbling nonsense while hitching a free ride on my popularity. I want this girl to know I noticed her. But first, I need to see if she’s taken or not.
If she returns her attention to Abercrombie, then I know there’s a label on their relationship—or at the very least, she’s committed, and I’ll have to shift mine elsewhere. If she doesn’t? Then there’s nothing stopping me from walking up to her and telling her I’m interested.
My gut drops when she turns away. But when she finds me again, blushing, my heart pounds with excitement and a feeling I can only describe as unbelievable relief—two things I haven’t felt in a very long time.
Just as I’m priming myself to get up, a train of dancers crosses our path, breaking my hold.
Shit.
I dart my eyes around, frantically searching her out until the bodies clear and I find her again.
“Are you ready to go now? Play Show and Tell like you promised?” a sultry whisper ghosts my ear.
The owner is my team’s head cheerleader. Small waist. Perky breasts. She’s a solid nine on most days. Always at the top of her class. Known to be an overachiever in everything she does. And by the activities she’s purring in my ear, she’s gunning for extra credit.
But it’s no longer her I want.
She needs to tone it down before this other girl gets the wrong idea.
“I changed my mind.” I shift farther away. “I’m not feeling it anymore.”
She huffs, dropping back.
For a second, I think she’s taken the hint, but then her hand slithers up the inside of my thigh, rubbing like she knows exactly what she wants and how to get it.
“How about now?” She sucks up my neck, then drags her teeth over my ear, her warm breath feathering just as dangerously as her fingers.
A groan slips out before I can stop it—my head involuntarily slanting back, my eyes drifting closed.
Fuck, that feels good.