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Kaya’s envious gaze lands on my black suede Prada boots, a gift from my grandmother to celebrate my admission to Briar. I had a good chuckle when I opened the package last night—I’m not sure Nana Celeste understands that I’m only attending Briar because I was expelled from my other school. Actually, I bet she does, and just doesn’t care. Nana will find any excuse to get her Prada on. She’s my soulmate.
I waste no time answering the call. “Hey,” I greet my brother Dean, grateful for the interruption. “Hey, Boogers. Just checking that you made it to campus in one piece.” “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Anyway, are you nice and settled at the Kappa house?” “Not quite,” I confess. “For fuck’s sake, Summer. What did you do?” My jaw falls open in outrage. Why does my family always assume that I’m in the wrong?
One of them said I was an arsonist.” “Well,” Dean says not so tactfully. “You kind of are.” “Fuck off, Dicky. It was an accident. Arsonists intentionally set fires.”“So you’re an accidental arsonist. The Accidental Arsonist. That’s a great name for a book.”
I have two older brothers who never, ever pass up an opportunity to tease or embarrass me, but sometimes they display rare moments of compassion. “Don’t call Dad yet,” Dean says gruffly. “Let me see what I can do first.” My forehead wrinkles. “I’m not sure you can do anything.” “Just hold off on calling him. I’ve got an idea.”
Who can blame me, though? Fitzy is short for Colin Fitzgerald, and he just happens to be THE UNICORN. The tall, sexy, tattooed hockey-playing unicorn of a man who I might have a teeny-weeny itsy-bitsy crush on. Okay, fine.
“Dance with me?” I want to say no. But I also want to say yes. I call this the Summer Dilemma—the frustrating, polar reactions this green-eyed, golden-haired goddess sparks in me. Fuck yes and hell no.
Except for me, that is. I play hockey, yes. I’m good at it, definitely. But “god” and “jock” and “superstar” are terms I’ve never been comfortable with. Deep down, I’m a huge nerd. A nerd masquerading as a god.
“I’m so glad I’m an only child,” I remark. She grins at me. “Nah, you’re missing out. Tormenting my brothers is one of my favorite pastimes.”
“That’s so important. Doing what you love, I mean. A lot of people don’t have that opportunity.” Curiosity flickers through me. “What do you love to do?” Her answering grin is self-deprecating. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”
“I’m not a big drinker,” Summer protests. “Bullshit.” Dean cackles. He’s wandered over, his girlfriend Allie Hayes at his side. “You were off your face when you burned down the sorority house.” “You burned down a sorority house?” asks a familiar voice. Dean spins around. “G!” he crows. “Just under the wire!” “Yeah, we almost didn’t make it,” Garrett Graham says as he strides up to the table.
“Han-Han!” Allie says happily, throwing her arms around Hannah Wells. Hannah is Garrett’s girl, but she also happens to be Allie’s best friend. “I’m so glad you’re here!”
I order two beers and hand over some cash. When I turn back, I find Garrett eyeing me. “What?” I say awkwardly. “What’s going on with you and Summer?” “Nothing.” Fuck. Did I answer too fast? “Liar. You answered way too fast.” Goddammit.
“Sorry,” he says. “That just blew my mind. Anyway. Fitzy. On paper, Wellsy and I don’t seem like we’d work, right? But we do, don’t we?”
“All I’m saying is, keep an open mind. Don’t fight it.” He claps me on the shoulder. “Just let it happen.” Let it happen.
In college, I’ve made more of an effort to be social, but deep down I’m still the guy who wants to remain invisible. Summer is the most visible person I’ve ever met.
DEAN: Happy New Year!! Was hoping to talk to you before you took off. I need a huge favor, bro. DEAN: Are you guys still looking for a 4th roommate?
Now I’m dreading it. My unicorn is no longer a unicorn. He’s a judgmental donkey.
I quickly unlock the car. I’m not a coward. I’m Summer Heyward-Di Laurentis and I don’t give a flying hoot what Colin Fitzgerald thinks about me.
She’s such a badass, and I think I love her. “I’m Summer,” I add. “I transferred here from Brown, and I just moved into a townhouse in Hastings.” She purses her lips for a moment before answering. “I’m Brenna. I live in town too.” She shrugs and marches to the passenger’s side door. “Unlock it for real this time, crazy girl. I’ll take that ride.”
“And no, I don’t usually invite stranger danger into my life.” I decide to be honest. “I’m doing everything in my power not to go home.” “Oooh. Intriguing. Why’s that?” Brenna shifts in the passenger seat, angling her black-clad body so she’s better able to study me. I can feel her eyes boring into the side of my head.
“It’s a long story.” Brenna laughs. “We’re strangers who just committed to a car ride together.
Brenna hoots in delight. “Okay—we will be circling back to that sorority-house comment, oh trust me, we fucking will. But let’s stay on the topic at hand.
The only downside is that I now have to live with the guy I kissed. And the guy who, at one point, I’d desperately wanted to kiss. And Hollis, but he’s harmless because I haven’t kissed him nor have I ever wanted to.
Dammit. I was hoping I’d succeeded in distracting her. But she’s back on the scent. “Yes,” I admit. “It’s a nickname, though.” “Short for Fitzgerald? First name Colin?” Shit. I narrow my eyes at her. “You’re not an ex of his or something, are you?” “No. But we’re friends. Well, friendly. Fitzy’s a hard guy to be friends with.”
I sigh. “So you know Hunter and Hollis too?” She rolls her eyes. “I know all of them. My dad’s Chad Jensen.” I blank on the name. “Who?” “The head coach of the men’s hockey team? I’m Brenna Jensen.” “Coach Jensen is your father?”
She grins. “Well, duh. Clearly we need to hang out again. I’d invite you to have lunch with us right now, but I’m not an enabler.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “It means you need to go home and face your roommates. Get the big awkward confrontation out of the way.”
“Then he cuts off my allowance.” “Are you—” “Fucking with you? Yes.” She shrugs. “If I’m busy, I don’t go. If I’m not busy, I go. He doesn’t ask much of me, and I love hockey and cute boys, so it’s not exactly a hardship on my part.” “Good point.” Her phone buzzes again—this time from the text she’s just sent from mine. “There. We’re in each other’s phones. We’ll start planning the wedding next week.” I snicker.
We chilled by the fire, sat in the hot tub, played Monopoly.” “I won,” Hollis pipes up. I roll my eyes. Of course he has to be the winner of this fictional Monopoly game. “Nah, I won,” I say smugly. “I bought Boardwalk and put eight hotels on it.” “Screw that. I owned Boardwalk.” “Nobody owned Boardwalk,” Hunter grumbles. “We didn’t play Monopoly.”
He’s right. We were skiing, aka the stupidest thing we could ever do, seeing as how we’re midseason. But Hollis, Hunter, and I are not exactly the best influences on each other.
I’m an artist. I designed all the tats myself, and whatever I can use as a canvas, I’ll use. Including my own skin.
These days, I do view the tats as an extension of my art, but I can’t deny it didn’t start out that way.
His answering chuckle brings out his dimples again. “I can already tell you’re going to make this hard for me, eh?” “This?” I echo warily. “And what exactly is this?” He slants his head, contemplating for a beat. “I don’t know yet,” he admits. His breath tickles my ear as he leans in to murmur into it. “But I’m kind of excited to find out.”
I’m not a fan of my own thoughts.
I slip it on anyway, because I doubt my roomies will be awake to see it. Hunter said they have a six a.m. practice. But I’m wrong. One roomie is very much awake. Fitzy and I both release startled noises when our gazes collide in the kitchen. “Shit,” I curse. “You scared me.” “Sorry. And ditto.” He’s sitting at the table, long legs resting on the chair beside him, a sketchpad in his lap. Oh, and he’s shirtless. As in, not wearing a shirt. I can’t even.
“You weren’t supposed to be skiing.” He blows out a quick breath. “No, we weren’t.” “So why did you?” “Because we’re idiots.”
“So let’s keep the ski trip between us, okay?” Um… I give him a sheepish look. “Too late.” “What do you mean?” His tone has sharpened. “I accidentally became best friends with your coach’s daughter earlier today. And I accidentally told her you guys went skiing.” He gapes at me. “Fucking hell, Summer.”
“She’s cool. We got along really well.” I hear him sigh. Loudly. I glance over my shoulder. “What was that for?” “It’s in anticipation of all the trouble I envision you and Brenna getting into. I predict you two are gonna be terrible influences on each other.” I can’t help but laugh. “That is a possibility.” He sighs again. “An eventuality. I can already see it.”
Not everyone is like Garrett Graham, a born superstar.
“I do know him,” Hunter admits, drawing another snort from Hollis. “We both played for Roselawn Prep. He was a couple years ahead of me.” Coach nods. “Pain in the ass, those Roselawn guys.” “I literally just said I went to Roselawn,” Hunter protests. “I repeat—pain in the ass, those Roselawn guys.” Hunter sighs.
“I don’t hit men, either,” she says sweetly. “But luckily I don’t see any men around here. Do you?”
If my parents were rich snobs with sticks up their asses, they’d no doubt be horrified that Dean Heyward-Di Laurentis became a gym teacher. Fortunately, my parents are awesome and supportive, and now Dean’s paved the way for me to be able to veer off course too.
Smiling broadly, I lean in and smack a kiss on her cheek. “I love you. You’re my soulmate.” “You’re such a dork.” Rolling her eyes, she refocuses her attention on the game.
“Ah, okay. What happened to that?” “Long story,” I confess. Weston slings one big arm over my shoulders and lowers his voice conspiratorially. “Let me guess—partying and shenanigans were involved, and you were very politely asked to leave.” My outraged glare lasts about half a second. “I hate that we went to high school together,” I grumble. “Why? ’Cause it means I know you too well?” He smirks. “Yes,” I say grudgingly.
The superstar who won the game for Harvard. Oh boy. I really am fraternizing with the enemy. This is the guy Brenna hates.
“Oh yeah, we go way back,” I confirm. “We used to party,” Weston says, flinging his arm around me again. “Which is perfect, ’cause we’re hitting up a party now. And you’re coming.” I hesitate. “Oh, I…” “You’re coming,” he repeats. “I haven’t seen you in like three years. We need to catch up.” He pauses. “Just don’t tell anyone there that you go to Briar.” Jake’s interest is piqued. “You’re at Briar?”
Jee-zus. Do all Briar hockey fans think Harvard is Dante’s Inferno, or is it just the weirdos in my life?
“My dad runs a clean program,” Brenna retorts, rolling her eyes. “No Tonya Hardings on the roster.”
Scowling, she jabs a finger in the air between us. “With that said, I’m totally telling my dad about McCarthy’s knee.” I grin. “I wouldn’t expect anything
Once again, I teeter on my feet. And once again, he grabs hold of me. Only this time, he takes it a step further. Before I can blink, my whole body is in the air. Fitz heaves me over his shoulder, and suddenly I’m staring at the back of his black T-shirt while my legs dangle over his broad chest. I kick him. “Put me down! Oh my God, Fitz!”
