Sneak Peek: Secrets and Sins

The first day is the worst day.

It was a lesson I'd learned over the years, moving from school to school, one that reminded me to keep my hopes and expectations low so that I couldn't technically feel the sting of disappointment. I would just show up to my classes, keep to myself, and then shoo off like always.

At least, that was the plan. This wasn't elementary or high school anymore, though. This was college.

Students streamed freely across campus, already grouping up into cliques, going about their mornings with smiling faces and side satchels brimming with textbooks. Most of them talked amongst themselves or scrolled on their cellphones, paying me no mind. Some of them smiled, even acted like they wanted to say hi to me, but I was too overwhelmed to respond. All I could do was avert my gaze, my cheeks burning with warmth as I scurried toward my first class.

I blamed the Navy for inadvertently screwing up my already abysmal social skills. My father was a sailor, a Master Chief, which meant countless strings of relocations and deployments. Between that and losing my mother at the age of seven, somewhere along the line, I had missed the memo on how to make friends.

But it didn't really matter. Even if I could befriend someone, they would never stay. They'd never become a permanent part of my existence, someone I could rely on to batten down the hatches and go the long haul with me. People had left me behind my entire life, for one reason or another. In time, I became comfortable with the solitude. It wasn't that I liked being alone, it was just…easier that way.

I crossed the threshold into the foyer of Meckey Hall and a heavy breath escaped my lips. The archaic stone building was full of arched, stained-glass windows, and had a twin set of spiral staircases at each end of the long hallway which led to a second story. Velvety, crimson carpet runners lay perfectly centered atop the creamy tile floor, adding a touch of elegance while also absorbing a bit of sound, helping to keep the entire place from echoing like a cavern.

Old-school English majors strutted around wearing sweater vests and glasses, an intellectual swagger in their step. But there were plenty of other students too, ones who gave zero fucks about the intricate mechanics of human language. Ones who simply needed a couple of English classes to complete their general education courses before they could move on in their chosen areas of study.

That was me. I was one of the ones who didn't really care about English, or Science, or Math. I was an Art Major—no clue what I actually wanted to do as a profession—but my mother had been an artist, and as such, that was what I wanted to be, too. To continue her legacy. To make her proud, even though I didn't even know her anymore, only in my memories.

All along each side of the first-floor hallway were classrooms and offices. According to the campus map printed on the inside of my orientation folder, English 101 was located directly to my right.

I exhaled a small sigh of relief and tried to scoot seamlessly through the doorway when out of freaking nowhere, another student walked out and the two of us collided—me, crashing to the floor in a spray of loose pages and catapulted books; him, standing there a little confused but completely unfazed.

Cade Landston.

My breath caught and my blood suddenly surged with adrenaline. The intensity of his emerald-green gaze, the perfection of his gorgeous face, mixed with the drifting spice of his cologne and his irresistible, untouchable aura… It was all utterly inebriating. He was one of my biggest crushes from back in high school—yes, there was more than one; sue me.

Recognition blazed across his features at the sight of me, and to my surprise, he let loose the most enthralling smile I'd ever seen. But then…something happened. He blinked. The magic drained from his smile, and the fire in his eyes was reduced to a cool smolder.

"I'm…so sorry," he muttered awkwardly, kneeling down to help me gather my stuff.

"No, no, it's okay." I sifted through the wreckage of my books and papers, a feverish blush burning across my face. After grabbing the last crumpled paper, I whispered a quick thank you and ducked into the classroom before I could embarrass myself further. I didn't know why he affected me so passionately, but he always had, and probably always would.

Crushes died hard.

I settled into an empty desk and glanced out into the hallway, but Cade was nowhere in sight. With a sigh, I watched quietly as my fellow students drifted in and found seats of their own. I remembered most of them from high school since a surprising number of us had remained local, but part of me wondered if they were still the same or if they were now different. Time had a sly way of changing people that forced you to meet and re-meet them over and over again.

I could have gone to an expensive state university or studied abroad in a foreign country, met new people, maybe even ones who enjoyed talking to me, but deep in my bones I knew—going to the small college in my mother's old hometown was the only choice for me. It just felt right.

I rummaged through my bag and pulled out a notebook and pencil, nervously awaiting the start of the lecture.

"Well, well, well. Look who's back," a prissy voice sneered, loud enough for me to hear. I glanced her way and rolled my eyes.

Loren Marlowe. I should've known. She was dressed in a tight, name brand tee and a denim skirt as short as her usual cheer uniform—which was saying something. She was popular, sexy, confident…everything I wished I could be.

And she hated me.

Every time my dad had deployed, I'd been sent to live with my mother's sister, Aunt Marge. That meant I had been the "new girl" in town at least once every couple of years since I was seven. It was fucking awful, having all those eyes on me. It made me feel like an exhibition at the zoo.

Loren also hated all those eyes on me—not out of any sort of sympathy, but because if they were looking at me, then they weren't looking at her. I used to think that made me a threat, but I soon found out it only made me the prey. Even now, I felt like a gazelle amongst the hyenas, about to get eaten alive.

"What's the matter, Valerie?" she taunted, her deep blue eyes glaring, her brown hair feathered around her face in utter perfection. "Did daddy abandon you again? Have you come crawling back to live with your dead mom's fucked up sister like always?"

I didn't respond outwardly, but inside anger churned in my gut. My dad didn't abandon me; deployments were mandatory. My aunt wasn't fucked up, she was just…eccentric. And don't even get me started on the fact that she dared to bring up my dead mother…

"That's what I thought." She smiled smugly and a few of her minions chuckled as if what she said had been funny somehow. I wanted to smack her lips right off her stupid-ass face.

"Fuck off, Loren," a different voice muttered, and I turned to find another cheerleader flipping through a fashion magazine at the back of the room.

Charlene Lowrey. The blonde-haired beauty may have been on the squad with the big bad bitch, but it was clear that she wasn't a fan. Not to say she was necessarily a fan of me, either. Like most of the popular kids, Charlene had never given me the time of day back in high school. She just liked rattling Loren's cage.

As they bickered back and forth, I rolled my eyes and doodled in my notebook, all but covering my ears in an attempt to block them both out.

"All right, guys," Professor Whitmer began with a sigh as she closed out whatever she was doing on her computer and strode over to a whiteboard full of notes. "Let's get started."

A rowdy group of jocks entered the room then, the leader of them scouting out the area with a cheeky grin before landing his sights directly on me.

Oh, fuck.

Holden Michaels. With gelled, dark brown hair and an athletic physique, he was one of those 'sexy and I know it' types. A rich boy. An all-star quarterback. A fucking wet dream in the flesh. Another of my high school crushes.

With him as a popular kid, and me as a bit of a loner, it's not like we spent much time together outside of school. So why was he suddenly bee-lining toward the empty desk beside mine?

"Hey," he said with an easy smile as he dropped into the spare seat like he owned it.

I squeezed my pencil a little bit tighter, taking a moment to calm my racing pulse. "Hey."

Nice, Val. Real smooth.

Professor Whitmer sighed loudly, passive-aggressively expressing her annoyance at the athletes' tardiness, but none of them seemed to care. Without much gusto, she began the lesson in a jaded monotone.

"Enjoying your first day of college?" Holden whispered. His smile was like sunshine, heat pushing up against my cold exterior, but I knew better than to warm up to him. He was a popular kid. Popular kids didn't speak to me. Period. So what game was he playing?

"Yes," I lied, whispering back without ever taking my eyes off the board.

He glanced from me to Loren, who was still glaring daggers into the side of my head, then back. "Looks like it." His sarcasm wasn't cruel like hers, though. "I'm Holden, by the way. I don't know if you remember, but we went to school together. Sixth, ninth, and twelfth grades, if I remember correctly."

Um, how the hell could I forget?

I nodded to avoid making too much small talk and getting into trouble. "I remember."

His smile clung persistently to his handsome face. "I get the feeling you're either really shy, or you like to keep to yourself."

I snorted softly. "Nice observation."

He grinned in return, his coffee-brown eyes gleaming playfully. "Which is it?"

I averted my gaze to my notebook, absentmindedly doodling on the first page to make it look like I was taking notes. "Probably the latter."

"And why is that?" He readjusted his position in the seat, leaning back in a lazy and confident 'I own the school' kind of way.

I sighed and shot him a quick glance. "It's just…easier."

"Than what?"

My lips thinned and my nostrils flared as I tried to keep any and all emotion off of my face. I gestured between the two of us. "Than this."

Conversation. Interaction. Inclusion. Hopefulness…

He remained quiet in a thoughtful sort of way before nodding and saying, "I see."

I was pretty sure he didn't see—after all, how could he possibly know and understand the abandonment issues laying deep beneath the surface of a superficial sentence?

Professor Whitmer performed another award-winning sigh and put her hands on her hips. "Are you two finished? We have a lot of criteria to cover."

Heat bloomed up my neck and fanned out across my cheeks as every eye in the entire freaking room suddenly turned toward me and Holden.

He didn't seem embarrassed at all by the extra attention, but he at least took the hint and gathered up his stuff. "I guess I'll leave you to yourself, then, since you enjoy your loneliness, and since Professor Whitmer, here, enjoys cock-blocking. See ya around, Valerie."

He winked before sauntering off and joining his three football friends where they'd saved him a seat. I remembered them too—Jay Walsh and Chase Theron, another two I'd been crushing on since high school despite the fact that Jay was taken and Chase was two years older—and Boone Crawford. One looked dark and dangerous, one looked cocky and arrogant, and the other one looked too nice to be sitting with the first two dickheads.

Back up a minute, though. Did Holden just say cock-blocking? As in, he might want his cock anywhere near me?

I nearly choked on my tongue when I noticed all four guys had caught me staring at them. Hastily, I averted my gaze back to my paper and doodled like my life depended on it, pausing only long enough to take a few notes here and there.

By the time Professor Whitmer finished class, I shot out the door like a bullet, too nervous after the morning's events to hang around and risk another awkward conversation with anyone.

My second class of the day—Chemistry 111 with Professor Davidson—was located in Domico Science Hall, all the way across campus. I had a half hour to get there, but I hated the thought of being late, so I picked up the pace, traversing the grassy knolls and courtyards as quickly as I could. I found a seat and checked the time on my phone. I was fifteen minutes early, but it didn't take long for my fellow students to begin filtering in.

That's when the unspeakable happened.

Four of my crushes walked in—I will neither confirm nor deny the existence of more—cramming into the same goddamned room at the same goddamned time, knocking all the air right out of my lungs.

Honestly, I didn't know if my hormones could take it. There was a reason the word sounded like whore moans, and I was already envisioning all the glorious ways they could destroy me if I ever let my guard down.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

It was going to be a rough freaking semester.

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