Page 1

1

ETHAN

The hot coffee scalding my throat reminds me that I’m not invincible. I’m running on two hours of sleep over the last seventy-two hours and a thermos of ramen, and until this moment I was pretty sure I could go on forever.

The burning down my throat and tongue causes me to yelp and choke. I nearly drop my tablet and the lid-less coffee cup as I flinch and shudder in response.

“Fuck,” I hiss, and nearly stumble into a group of fellow students. A few of them mumble in annoyance and I turn around, trying to avoid conflict with them at all costs, even though that means not being able to get to the table with free water that could soothe my aching throat.

I settle myself and swallow, which only makes my throat feel worse, but thankfully it wasn’t a large swallow. Taking a few breaths of the cool late October air eases most of the pain.

I glance around at the crowd gathered in the Valmont College courtyard, looking for a familiar mess of red hair and sweatpants. I can’t find my best friend Veronica in the crowd, and don’t see anyone else I particularly want to chat with.

With a sigh I turn around, planning to head back inside the small coffee shop and get a lid for my coffee like I should have done to begin with. Obviously, I’m not thinking as clearly as I thought I was.

In fact, with each step I take, the more tired I feel. It’s like I’m dragging my feet and my brain on the sidewalk underneath them.

I don’t realize that my eyes are slowly closing until I suddenly face-plant directly into something—no,someone—muscular and tall.

“Motherfucker!” a low, masculine voice growls at the same time as I stumble backward and hot coffee sloshes down my hand.

I gasp and drop the cup on the damp ground, my hand clenching with pain as my eyes spring up to his face.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

My heart slams against my ribs as I realize I’ve spilled my coffee all over the dark-haired, tattooed man who’s glaring down at me. Luckily, I don’t seem to have burned him, because he’s wearing a zipped-up leather jacket that’s dripping with my coffee, but at least it protected his skin.

“Damn, I’m sorry, I—” But before I can get the words out, he’s unzipping and pulling off his jacket in a huff.

“You should watch where you’re going,” he tells me. His voice is low, and it sends a shiver down my spine. I can’t tell if it’s from fear or something else entirely.

My throat is already hoarse from being burned, and now it’s even tighter with the tension of this moment.

“Are you alright?” I manage to choke out. “Did I only spill it on your jacket?”

As I’m looking at him, taking in his piercing blue eyes and dark shaggy hair, I realize who he is.

Dante Romano.

I don’t know very much about him, but Idoknow he only shows up to school a third of the time, but has yet to be kicked out. People seem simultaneously afraid of him and tired of him. I’ve never had the chance to interact with him beyond seeing him from a distance on campus, and frankly I’ve been fine with that.

Until now.

Dante’s expression shifts from what I can only assume is anger to…something I’m not sure of. His brow is furrowed, but his eyes drift down my body, all the way to my pristine tennis shoes and then back up to my face. Something about the way he eyes me is predatory, and even though I should be offended, my stomach muscles tighten and flare with heat.

“I’m fine,” Dante insists. “But my jacket sure as hell isn’t.”

I reach my hand down to wipe the coffee off it on my jeans, but I don’t really want to get the coffee on my clean jeans, so now I’m stuck with a burntandwet hand.

“Ah, I can pay for the dry cleaning,” I tell him, and start to reach for my phone with my dry hand.

Dante snorts. “Like you could afford it. Why didn’t you have a lid on your cup, anyway?”

“I can afford one dry cleaning session,” I reply defensively. My heart is still fluttering like a nervous schoolboy’s. “I don’t like drinking out of the little hole in the lid and—why am I explaining this to you?”

Irritation flares in my voice.

“If you’re going to be so fucking picky, maybe at least watch where you’re going.” Dante rolls his eyes.