Page 2 of Burn Bright

“Seriously,” I growl. “Just let me through.” I try to slip past the jock.

He blocks me.

I glare. “Dude.”

“Polly.”

What the fuck?!

“Oooh, you made her mad, Cameron,” he says off my scowl.

“Does she bite?” Cameron laughs, then tries to pat my blonde hair again.

I swat his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

“Aww, she’s a snapping turtle.” Cameron passes his beer to his preppy friend. “You know what turtles need?”

My pulse races. I try to back away, to return inside, but I barely even rotate before Cameron hoists me around the waist. I kick out as he tosses me over his shoulder and shouts, “Water!”

“Let me down!” I yell, banging a fist against his back. I squirm and try to pull away as he carries me to the pool. No, no,no. Panic envelops me alongside raw anger, and I fight against his rower strength.

“You’ve gotta go in the water, turtle!” He grunts as I writhe against his hold. He pins me harder on his shoulder. “I’m saving you!”

“Water! Water! Water!” People chant around the pool.

“No, no!” I shriek so loudly, so furiously, my throat sears. As he prepares to launch me into the pool, I scream bloody murder. “LET ME DOWN!” Fear guts me. “LETMEDOWN!” I can’t see beyond the hot glassy film in my eyes.

I just hear a strong, commanding voice. “HEY! Let go of her! What the hell are you doing?!!”

I feel the tug around my waist from behind. Someone is ripping me out of Cameron’s rower arms. Someone is setting me gently on my feet. Someone is letting go of me.

As soon as I spin around to see who, I’m thunderstruck at the sight of him. I stumble back a step, breath caught deeper in my lungs. I have to crane my neck just to meet his carved jawline.

Fury flexes his cut muscles, his athletic body. He’s sky-scrapingtall. Taller than most students here. His wavy brown hair peeks beneath a faded blue baseball cap. No one wears a ballcap as attractively as he does—with this rugged sexiness that shouldn’t exist in New York. It should look so out of place, but he doesn’t.

He just fits.

He seems to always fit among people. And there is something so devastating about his blue eyes, about the way he looks at you. Like you’re his whole…entire…world when I know it’s not true.

His world is massive and illustrious.

I’m small and dull inside it.

My eyes drop to his chest. He’s in an old Penn Hockey shirt, even though we’re not at the Ivy League anymore. And didn’t he quit hockey?

“Is that Ben Cobalt?” I hear the whispers.

“Holy shit, that’s a Cobalt.”

“Ben!” someone calls out in familiarity.

“Hey, there you are, Ben,” Cameron says brightly like they’re buddies. “You should stick around us, man. The party’s right here.”

Ben is ignoring them and staring right at me. He’s sweeping me for signs of damage. “You want out of here?” he asks me.

Yes.

I still can’t slow my pulse. I can barely form a single word. A lump swells in my esophagus. I sense Cameron coming up behind me. I flinch, and Ben reaches out and shoves him backward.