“So, are you dating him?” Jill asks, sitting across from me at the coffee shop, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips as she tries to pry information out of me.

I shrug, my heart fluttering with nerves every time I think about Spencer and our one night together. “I don’t think he actually dates.”

And I really have no clue what Spencer is thinking, or if he’s even thinking about me at all. I’ve only seen him in passing and from a distance since he drove me back to my dorm three days ago. He’s sent texts, and we’ve had a dozen flirty phone calls, but he hasn’t mentioned seeing me again.

Maybe I scared him off with the whole virgin thing. I take a sip of my spiced pumpkin latte and try not to let it bother me.

He’s just a guy, Charlotte, I remind myself.

“But you had sex?” Jill asks a little too loudly, causing a few heads to turn.

“No. We just...did other things.”

She shakes her head. “You want me to believe you spent the whole night with the infamous Princeton Charming and you didn’t bang him?”

“He was a gentleman.” And he was. But her words have all sorts of insecurities floating around in my head. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him I was a virgin. But then, if this is the way he’s going to treat me, maybe it’s for the best that I didn’t have sex with him.

“Hey beautiful,” a deep voice says against my ear, and for a split second, I think it’s Spencer until Prescott moves around me and pulls up a chair, straddling it beside me.

“Uh, hi. What are you doing here?” I glance around wondering if Spencer is with him.

“Getting coffee. Just like everyone else.” He takes a sip from the white paper cup, then smiles at Jill. “You going to introduce me to your friend?”

“I’m Jill,” she offers before I can say anything, holding out her hand and giving him her best smile. “And you’re Prescott Addington. I read your paper on human rights and immigration law.”

He grunts. “Why? Were you having trouble sleeping?”

“It was really good. I disagree with you on—”

“That looks delicious,” Prescott interrupts, tearing off a piece of Jill’s half-eaten chocolate croissant and popping it in his mouth. “You mind grabbing me one?” He pulls out a twenty from his wallet and places it on the table in front of Jill, then asks me, “You want anything, Hayes?”

I shake my head, frowning at him.

When Jill stands and walks to the end of the long line, I turn on him, “She’s not your servant.”

He chuckles. “Unless you want to listen to her drone on about the 1951 Geneva convention, or whether prisoners should have the right to vote, I did you a favor.” He leans back and gives me a cocky grin. “And I came over to talk to you.”

“About what?” Suspicion has me pursing my lips at him.

“Tell me Beckett’s full of shit. That you didn’t let that dickhead into your pants.”

I’m pretty sure my face goes white, because I swear I feel all the blood leave me, and Prescott just shakes his head.

“Damn, you did. Thought you were smarter than that, Hayes.”

“Spencer told you that we...” I swallow over the lump that’s formed in my throat. “He said we had sex?”

Prescott shrugs. “Doesn’t matter anyway. You can tell the douchebag he still lost the bet.”

Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t ask, my brain screams, but I ask anyway, “What bet?”

“Shit.” His grin broadens, and I can tell he’s enjoying this. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“But you did, which means you wanted me to know.”

He chuckles and pushes his chair back. “You’re a smart girl, Hayes. But you’re not in the same league as Spencer Beckett. You need to watch your back.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Nah, just a warning.” He winks before walking away.

“Where’d he go?” Jill returns a couple minutes later with a pastry, and she looks put out that the asshole is gone.

I roll my eyes at her. “I need to get to class.”

“But it doesn’t start for another forty minutes and you still haven’t given me any details about your night—”

“Because nothing happened, and nothing will happen. It was a lapse of judgment.” I push my chair back and stand, grabbing my bag.

“I swear, you’re holding onto that V-card with a white-knuckled grip.”

My phone rings. “I need to take this,” I say when I see my dad’s number on the screen. “Hey, Dad.” I walk out of the coffee shop, shivering as a cold wind blows around me.

“Hey baby girl.” He sounds tired. “How are you doing?”

“Good. Just heading to class.”

There’s a long silence on the other end.

“Everything okay, Dad?”

I hear him swallow hard. “If you haven’t cashed that check I gave you, I was hoping you could hold off.”

“Yeah. Of course.” I wasn’t planning on cashing the hundred dollars that he gave me at Thanksgiving anyway. “What’s going on?”

“Money is just a bit tight right now.”

“Is Mom okay?”

More silence.

“Dad?”

He sighs. “She’s had one of her flare-ups.”

I stop walking and try to hold back the emotions that creep into my chest, wanting to choke me. Every time she has one of these attacks she always loses another piece of herself. The last one put her in a wheelchair, unable to use her legs.

“I’ll come home—”

“No, sweetheart. There’s nothing you can do here.”

“But—”

“Charlie. I’ve got things under control. Just keep flying, baby girl.”

I feel tears prick my eyes, knowing I can’t tell him that I lost my job. That sometimes I question why I’m even here, struggling to keep my grades up, dealing with inconsequential drama like Spencer Beckett, when I should be home taking care of my mom.

Feeling numb, I head to my Advanced Legal Topics class, wondering how today could possibly get worse until I see Spencer standing at the entrance of the building I’m heading toward, Winslow standing with him, her lean body practically infused with his.

My heart sinks like a stone in my gut.

“Friends my ass,” I mutter under my breath, knowing if I’m going to get to my damn class I’m going to have to walk straight past them.

“Hey, Charlotte.” Tatum is running toward me, a big, goofy grin on his face when he catches up. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”

“No. Sorry.” Obviously our little disagreement from the weekend is forgotten, or he’s choosing to act like it didn’t happen. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

I turn to him, mostly so I don’t have to see Spencer and Winslow together.

“Are we still on for this afternoon?” Tatum asks.

“This afternoon?”

“You forgot.” He sighs. “You said you wanted to try that new Thai restaurant.”

“Right.” I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. That was before I lost my job. When I actually had a few extra dollars to eat out. Now all I have is a rapidly decreasing bank account and a plane ticket that still needs to be bought. “Do you think we could go another time? I have a lot of studying to do.”

“Is this because of Beckett? Is he already controlling who you can hang out with?”

“No.” I shake my head. “And Spencer and I aren’t...anything.”

“I don’t know about that,” a familiar voice says before an arm drapes around my shoulder possessively.

Spencer. I think I forget to breathe.

It takes me a second to remember that I’m angry at him. I want to shrug off his arm, but I also don’t want to give Tatum any more reason to strike out at him. And the way his face has turned a shade of red and his fingers form into fists, I know it’s a real possibility.

I glance up at Spencer, and say casually, “I’m late for class.”

“I’ll walk you.” He gives me one of his smiles, the one that makes my stomach go all fluttery, but I see the questions in his eyes. He knows I’m upset.

Good.

“I’ll see you later, Charlotte.” Tatum walks away quickly, and I know nothing is ever going to be the same between us.

“If I was any other guy, I might be jealous of the way he hangs all over you.”

I shrug him off. “Good thing you’re not any other guy.”

“Hey.” He grabs my hand. “What’s wrong.”

“Um, let’s see.” I don’t want to sound jealous over seeing him with Winslow, or needy by demanding why he hasn’t tried to see me again. Instead, I focus on the one thing I have every right to be angry about. “Your douchebag friend paid me a little visit at the coffee shop this morning.”

“Prescott?” Spencer winces. “What did he say?”

“That even though you got in my pants on the weekend, you still lost the bet.”

“Shit. It’s not what you think.”

I laugh, but the sound is metallic in my ears as I pull my arm back. “I don’t care.”

“Prescott is an asshole.”

“Yeah. You’re right, he is. And he made it clear that I’m not in the same league as you.”

“He said that?” Anger tightens his features. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Whatever.” I shake my head and look away, catching Winslow watching us from across the lawn, surrounded by a gaggle of her clones. Each one looks ready to murder me.

Perfect.

“I have to get to class.” I sprint toward the old building, not looking back.

But when I sit down in a chair at the back of the lecture hall, I feel a warm body sit next to me. The way my own body reacts, I don’t need to look over to know it’s Spencer.

“Don’t run from me, Charlie.”

“Don’t follow me, Spencer,” I hiss back, ready to get up and move, but the professor comes into the room, and I know if I do I’ll make a scene.

“Yeah, there was a bet, but that was before I knew you.”

“You think that makes it better?”

A few heads turn around and glare at me.

“Can you leave?” I mumble. “Please.”

“Not until you forgive me.”

“Fine. I forgive you. Just go.”

The professor starts lecturing, and I pull out my notebook and pen.

“You know I have all my lecture notes from this course. I can give them to you.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“See. You’re still upset.”

I exhale heavily. “Being upset means I’d have to care. And I don’t.”

“Shhh.” A girl two rows in from of me shushes before rolling her eyes and turning back to the front.

Spencer leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. “I’ve missed you.”

I grunt, scribbling down what the professor is saying, but I miss half of it because I’m too aware of the way Spencer’s leg brushes against mine.

“Come over to my place after your class.”

“No.”

He chuckles. “You know you’re going to say yes eventually. Why fight me?”

I slam my pencil down on my desk and glare at him. “Maybe you should go ask Winslow. You and she looked pretty cozy earlier.”

Spencer frowns.

“Is there a problem back there?” the professor asks. “Mr. Beckett, I’m pretty sure you’ve already taken this course.”

“And aced it,” Spencer says, giving a cocky grin before sliding out of his seat. “I was just leaving.” He leans down and says, “Come over after class and I’ll give you more than my notes. I’ll give you everything you’ve been dreaming about since you left my place the other night.”

Heat rushes to my face, and I swear some of the people around me heard what he said, because I hear a few sighs, mixed with giggles.

And I’m right back where I started, swooning over a guy who is clearly going to break my heart.

When the lecture is over and I leave the hall, I find Spencer leaning against the wall, waiting for me, and there goes the damn butterflies again, wreaking havoc in my stomach.

He pulls me around a corner, and I’m pressed against the wall, his solid body trapping me before I can even let out a little yelp.

“Spencer—”

His mouth crashes down on mine, hard, fast, his tongue darting across my lips until I open for him.

He groans, “Wasn’t lying, Hayes. I missed you.”

“This is so wrong.”

“Why? Because I make you feel good.”

“You make me feel like I’m spinning out of control.”

He chuckles against my lips and kisses me again. “Cause you’re fighting too hard against me.”

He’s right. But what are my other options? Give in or run as fast as I can from him. The latter would be the smarter choice, but I already know which way my body and heart are leaning toward.

“Come back to my place.”

“I have to study.”

“So do I.” He kisses my neck.

“If we go to your apartment, I know what you’ll want.”

He pulls back and frowns. “I’m not pushing you for sex, Charlie. If I wanted to have you, I would have.”

“So you don’t want me?”

“You have a way of twisting words.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “Yes, Charlie Hayes, I want you. I want to spread that sweet little body of yours out on my bed, eat that delicious pussy again, then fill you so deep and full with my cock that you’ll be ruined for all other men. But I’m going to wait until I know you’re ready. Does that answer your question?”

I manage to whimper a “yes.”

And right now I feel more than ready. I’ve never wanted a guy like I want Spencer Beckett.

“How about your dorm?” he asks.

I frown up at him. “What?”

“We can go there to study.”

“My roommate might be there.”

“Your other options are the library or my apartment.” He whispers against my ear. “Whatever you choose, there will be some heavy making out going on. So unless you don’t mind public displays of affection—”

“Okay, my dorm.”

He chuckles and squeezes my ass. “Good girl.” Then he tucks his hand in my back pocket, laying claim to me.

As we walk across campus toward my dorm, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I shiver. Something presses on the back of my skull, a feeling like I’m being watched.

“You cold?” he asks, wrapping an arm over my shoulder.

“Yeah,” I mutter, glancing around. For a second I swear I see a hooded figure in the shadows, but when I blink, it’s gone. “Let’s just get upstairs.”

Daphne is out, so the place is ours. I drop my backpack and begin peeling off my layers. Scarf, hat, jacket, sweatshirt.

“Keep it going,” Spencer teases playfully as he pulls his slim laptop from his messenger bag.

“Haha. I don’t strip for study partners.”

Spencer pouts playfully, falling into my bed like he owns it. He reaches under him and pulls out an envelope. “Sorry, I crushed this.”

He hands it to me, and I frown. After opening the seal, I pull out a note. All it says is Glass slippers can crack. Careful Cinderella, yours isn’t a happy ending. “What the heck?”

“What is it?” Spencer asks as I hand him the warning. He reads it and immediately pulls out his phone. “We need to call campus security.”

“Who would write that?”

“I don’t know, but someone doesn’t like the idea of you spending time with Princeton Charming.”

I press a hand to his phone. Maybe Tatum got really weird about the way I ended things at the party and took things to another level. I don’t think Tatum would do this … but what if his emotions got the best of him and he did this without thinking. Getting security involved, and finding out it was the star athlete, could cost him more than his reputation.

“I think it was just someone being stupid,” I say. “Don’t involve campus security, please.”

“That’s how things get out of control, Charlie. We have to report this.”

I exhale. “Please? I’ll tell you if anything else weird happens. I promise.” Then lifting my eyebrows I say, “What were we saying about stripping?”

He laughs, setting his phone on the bedside table. “We were saying it’s way too hot to study fully dressed.” He reaches for me, and his hands run under the hem of my shirt. A thrill washes over me as his fingertips brush my skin.

“How do you like to study?” I ask, laughing.

“In my boxer briefs, obviously.” His grin is so damn irresistible.

“Fine, but I’m keeping my bra on.”

He pulls my shirt off, over my head. “You are so bossy, Charlie Hayes. I like it.”

“Why do I get the feeling there won’t be much studying taking place today?” I laugh, as his hands run over the lacy cups of my bra.

“Oh there will be studying all right,” he says, looking me over. “Me studying every inch of your perfect body.”

“You’re so cheesy, Spencer Beckett.”

“And you’re an easy A.”