Sophie Meyer.

Of all the girls on campus—most of which I have already taken a bite out of, how could it be Sophie?

Damn, she’s beautiful. The second the lights blinked on, I felt a rattling right down to my bones. And now that the lights are off, I have a decision to make.

My heart does its best to kick right out of my chest. My ears thump with their own psychotic rhythm. And as much as I want to fight it, the clock is ticking away. I have seconds to decide what to do next.

My muscles twitch in her direction. Without putting too much thought into it, my hands float up to her cheeks and I cup them, drawing her near to me one more time. I land my lips over hers, soft as a whisper—an I’ve missed you, an apology all at once. If she didn’t taste so good the first time. If she wasn’t so damn beautiful. If she wasn’t on my mind since the day I saw her a few weeks back, then again last night—

Her arms swivel around my waist as she pulls me in, her fingers digging into my flesh. Those petal soft lips press against mine as her tongue spears me with an intensity only matched by my own. Sophie and I go at it as if it were our last few seconds on Earth, as if the walls were about to crumble around us and Braden himself were about to appear.

I kick her big brother out of my mind. This isn’t about him, or what’s become of him. This is a moment I’m having with Sophie, the girl who was staring me down last night like she wanted to knife my balls off. But if I’m honest, all I really wanted to do with Sophie last night was this. I had a girl set to go for the night, and as soon as we walked out of that bar, I let her go. I couldn’t get Sophie out of my head, and now here she is, her tongue twisted up with mine like a pretzel. Her sweet, hot mouth melts into me as a hearty groan works up from my throat. My entire body fills with heat just knowing that I’m holding her like this.

Holy hell. None of this is real. I’m betting that once the lights go on again, I’ll get a better look at the poor girl, and she won’t be anywhere near Sophie’s level of beauty. I just saw what I wanted to see. This is all just a step away from a fantasy to begin with.

And just like that, the lights pop on like a slap.

My heart stops. Those are still Sophie’s wild eyes pinned to mine. Our chests pound in sync as if we just ran a miracle mile.

That face, that mouth, those golden eyes filled with hatred and a mixture of something I can’t quit identify—it’s all too real.

“Shit,” I pant, soft as a whisper, as I take her in. I can’t do this, so I do the only thing I can—turn and speed out the door.

Petra, the timid brunette assigned to keep charge over me while I foul up my life in this social debacle, ushers me into the same over-lit room where this nightmare began.

“How did it go? Did you like her? Would you want to do that again?” Her bright speckled eyes ignite as if she somehow swallowed the light around us. I’ve seen Petra around campus. She let me know she’s a junior, loves drama, but opted for psych. Petra is a girl I wouldn’t usually have a lot in common with, and yet, here we are, locked eye to eye in a strangulating gaze.

“It went. Yes, I liked her, but—” I rake my fingers through my hair just trying to keep up with the thoughts racing through me. “I don’t think I can do it again.”

“No worries.” Her eyes flit to the opened door with a look that suggests she is very damn worried. “You have an entire week to think on it.”

“So, that’s it? I’m free to go? You’re not going to sit us in a room and make us wrangle this out?”

“Heavens no. You’ll wrangle it out with the panel. Just a few quick questions before you go.” A high-pitched laugh escapes her. “Of course, we’ll meet again next week. Same bat station. Same bat channel.”

“Same girl?”

“Same girl.” She gives a friendly wink as if doing her best to settle me down. It’s not working. “And if you both show up and complete the next task, then we move on to the next level.”

“What’s the next task?”

“I’m not allowed to say.”

“Say it,” I bark it out meaner than I intended, and she hugs the laptop in her arms a little bit tighter.

“Okay,” she whispers, looking suspiciously past her shoulder. “Second verse might be same as the first. But it’s a little more involved.”

“How involved?”

“We up the time to ten minutes.” She shrugs it off as if it were no big deal.

Ten minutes. For a moment, I envision Sophie and me right back in that room doing just that for ten solid, savory minutes, and my boxers twitch with an indelible ache.

Crap.

“I’ll see you around,” I say, speeding out the nearest exit.

“Wait! What about the panel?” Her voice is already small in the distance. “Does that mean you’ll be back?”

Will I? Won’t I? I have no freaking clue. Screw the panel. Right now, all I want to do is shake the coach for talking the entire damn football team into participating. No, it wasn’t mandatory, but he has a way of persuading us to do just about anything. It turns out Dexter Houston is the coach’s great-nephew, or great-niece, some crap like that. And now his familial bullshit has led directly to mine.

But I’m not dealing with the coach or anyone else at the moment. Right now, I’m headed back to my dorm, taking a shower, and calling it a day. There aren’t enough hours, enough beers, or cups of coffee for me to wrap my head around the mindfuck that just occurred.

“Rowen!” a tiny female voice calls from behind, and I keep on walking. Crap. Is that Sophie? Would she even want to speak with me after that trauma we both just partook in? “Ro!”

And just like that, I recognize that familiar bark as my sweet baby sister—most likely the only person in the world I’d turn around for at this point.

Sophie and that heated kiss sear through my mind, and I try my best to blink her away.

“Min,” I say as she launches into a running tackle. “Whoa. What are you doing up here?” Mindy is a freshman at Bixby, another private university about fifteen miles away tucked between the chocolate boulders on the outskirts of Moon Ridge. Our parents were thrilled to have both their alma maters represented in their children. Leland and Bixby are rivals, so it’s nice to have a house that is equally divided.

“Just thought I’d surprise my big bro.” She gives a cheesy wink but keeps right on laughing. Mindy and I share our mother’s eyes, dark gray and far too intense, same wavy black hair. It seems each time I see Mindy lately I could just as easily be looking at our mother. Mom is an attorney, thus Min’s foray into prelaw. Dad is a sports coach at Moon Ridge Junior College, thus my greed for all things football. I’m prelaw as well, and I like to tease my little sis that I’m the best of both worlds. It’s safe to say these two apples didn’t roll too far from the Garret family tree.

“It’s not really a good time.” I have never blown off my sister. Never once have I turned away her company, but I’m rattled, caught off guard. The last time I felt this way was the day I lost Becca. I blink hard at the thought. I’ve seen the two of them holding hands around campus—Braden and Becca. At this point, I couldn’t care less about how it went down between her and me, but it’s what Braden did that I can’t seem to get past.

Mindy’s mouth falls open, and I can see the disappointment bomb go off in her. “Not a good time? But I’m lonely at Bixby.” She wrinkles her nose, and my heart sinks. “How about I buy you a cup of coffee? Just one.” She holds up a single finger, doing her best to plead while biting back a victorious smile. Mindy knows I can’t deny her a single thing.

“You bet.” I’m quick to wrap my arm around my sister’s shoulder and lead her over to Coffeeology. “But I’m the one who’s buying.”

Mindy bubbles with a short-lived laugh. “Have it your way, hotshot quarterback, but we both know this is on the university dime.” That’s not quite true. Yes, I’ve got a full ride, and that alone had my parents singing hallelujah for an entire month solid, but the coffee comes out of my own pocket.

“I’m all yours, Mindy,” I say, holding open the door to the campus coffee hotspot. I don’t tread in here often, but when I do, I can’t help but get bowled over by the heavenly roasted beans. Damn, it smells good. Coffeeology is decked out in the requisite school colors along with a series of oversized black and white prints of Colorado’s glorious mountains. That’s one thing I’ve been craving as of late, hitting some trails before winter comes and carpet bombs everything white.

“Thank God it’s warm in here.” Mindy rubs her hands together and chatters on and on about being a fall girl. We put our orders in, black and bitter for me, like my heart, and a pumpkin spiced delight for her before picking up our drinks and finding a seat near the pot-bellied stove in the back.

“I’m a sucker for a fire.” Mindy scoots in close. Those luminescent eyes of hers settle over mine. “Speaking of fires, try to douse the one in your pants, would you? Your reputation has wafted over to Bixby. Do you know how disgusting it is to hear girls gossiping about taking a ride on the freaking Colossus? You keep this up, and I’m going to demand that you delouse, deflea, and de-venerealize yourself before our next visit.”

“Deflea and de-venerealize aren’t words found in the English language. You should consider transferring to Leland before Bixby turns your brain to mush,” I tease.

“I’m pretty sure deflea is a word, but nonetheless I am thinking about transferring.” She shrinks in her seat a notch.

“What? You just got there.” It’s been two weeks. She mentioned not getting along with her roommate, but that’s just about every person on campus freshman year. “You’ll settle in. Don’t think that your roommate has to be your best friend. Go out and meet some new people. Give it some time.”

“Wow, you’re really campaigning hard for me to stay put.” Her cheeks brighten with color, and suddenly I feel like shit for not employing a little more sympathy. “But you’re right. I just can’t seem to get my groove, though.” She glances over her shoulder and does a quick double take. I look up to see what’s caught her attention, fully expecting to find Boomer—my roommate for the past four years. Mindy hasn’t exactly kept her infatuation with the walking hulk a secret. Boomer is a great guy, but he knows damn well that my sister is off-limits.

I try to make out the sea of faces milling around, and then like a slap in the face I see her.

Sophie stares right back at me, and the two of us do our best imitation of a deer in the headlights.

Crap. Can’t breathe. Can’t think. I sure as hell don’t know how to get out of this uncomfortable situation. And just as quick as it came, the moment passes.

Sophie’s friends shuttle her off to a table near the front, and she takes a seat with her back to us. I’m not sure if I’m thankful for that small mercy or not.

“A Meyer sighting in the wild.” Mindy turns around and makes a face. Mindy and Sophie were good friends. The best of friends for years. In fact, I haven’t seen Mindy get that close to another person ever since. In a way, we both lost a hell of a lot when my life blew to pieces unexpectedly. “I bet you get a lot of that—the Meyer sightings.”

“Not really.” Not until last night—and for sure not until this afternoon. The memory of Sophie’s mouth melting over me swims through my mind, and this time I’m not so quick to boot it out.

“Don’t judge me”—Mindy leans in hard, her brows knit with something just this side of heartbreak—“but I sort of miss her. And believe me, I still think she’s just as big an A-hole as that brother of hers for what he did to you.”

A groan works up my throat in lieu of words. “I’m pretty sure she only knows what he fed her.” And what he fed her was a bunch of bullshit. Braden was a good guy until he wasn’t. At least that’s my version of the story. At this point, we all staunchly stand by our truths, and unfortunately, Sophie is caught in Braden’s twisted reality. “It’s her brother that’s the A-hole. I wouldn’t paint her with that brush.”

“Are you kidding? If you knew the things she said, you wouldn’t be so quick to count her out of the equation.”

After Braden and I imploded, Sophie and Mindy had an implosion of their own, each choosing to stubbornly stand by their brother’s side—neither really aware of the facts. I never filled Mindy in on every last detail, just the bare bones. But the bare bones were still pretty damning. And I’m positive Braden painted himself as some savior to his sister. He’s too caught up in his own delusions to recognize the truth.

Mindy glances back before taking a careful sip of her coffee. “You know it wouldn’t have killed her to say hello. If I had seen her at Bixby, on my scholastic turf, I would have at least offered a wave and a smile. Not a big smile, but just enough to let her know that I’m not interested in holding onto a grudge. That’s how you know they’re still wrapped up in it emotionally—they’re still as freshly pissed as they were the day it happened.” Her brows do the wave as she taps her bright blue nails over the table. “What exactly happened again, anyway?”

“Nothing important. How are classes?” I’ll do anything to change the subject. And right about now, I’d do anything to take Mindy and bolt out of this place. No matter how hard I try to concentrate on my sweet baby sister, every cell in my body seems to gravitate toward Sophie. Probably some psychological aftereffect of what just happened. It wasn’t an hour ago that my tongue was leashed around hers.

Mindy scoots her seat over, effectively blocking my view of the back of Sophie’s head. “I couldn’t care less about classes. And by the way, you were staring.”

Crap. I shift in my seat and down half my coffee. It tastes like a thousand cigarette butts were seeped in boiling water, and now I’m wishing I went for the mocha cup of sugar the barista was trying to upsell. Sophie tasted minty. So damn sweet.

“Earth to Rowen.” Mindy waves her hand over my face. “So, do you ever have any run-ins with Braden and Becca?” She rubs her arms in an effort to keep warm as if readying for a cozy fireside chat.

Braden and Becca. I try to blink them out of my mind, but it’s as if this afternoon were determined to dig up the cemetery of my past and haunt me with all the bitter details.

“Nope. So far, so good.” That’s not entirely true. There were a few close calls. I had Becca in a business law class, and I dropped out before she knew I was in it. Took it the very next semester, drama free, just the way I like it. “Look, Min, we need to change the subject or this headache I’m nursing will blow out the side of my skull. And as comfortably numb as that might make things for me, I’d much rather be sitting here, living and breathing, talking about you. So tell me anything about Bixby.”

A moment of stunned silence floats by while Mindy tips her head, analyzing my words. Mindy is smart as a whip. I’ve never been able to put anything past her, not that there have been a lot of attempts, but on the rare occasion, Mindy is the one person who seems able to see right through my bullshit.

“Bixby is boring without you,” she says it low, dejected. “But since you’ve offered your sage advice, I’ll take it. A few of the girls have invited me to hang out. I’ll take them up on the offer. And a few of the boys have, too.” Her eyes twitch out the window. “You wouldn’t mind if Boomer was one of them, would you?”

A harrowing, deep, full-bellied laugh explodes from me, and Sophie turns around. Our eyes hook onto one another for a fleeting second, stopping my laughter right in its obnoxious tracks, and she turns back around with a jerk. “I’d stick to the girls for now.” I frown over at my sister. “It’s your freshman year. Trust me, there will be plenty of time for boys—like when you’re thirty.” That’s been my standby answer for years, but the closer we crawl to thirty, forty sounds like a much better option.

We chat for the next half hour, with Mindy doing the heavy lifting in the conversation, and me nodding and prodding myself to say just about anything to convince her that I’m listening. And as much as I might want to, my attention is torn. The entire right side of the room radiates a nuclear level of heat from where Sophie is seated. And just as I’m about to lose my gaze in that dark Cherry Coke-colored hair of hers, she and her friends stretch to life and casually stroll right out the door.

Mindy glances over her shoulder to see what has my attention. “And there she goes. I guess she’s novel to you, seeing that she’s a freshman. Don’t let her spook you, though. If you can handle her brother and Becca Carmichael of all people, dodging Sophie Meyer will be a cakewalk.” She stands and offers me a quick hug before pulling the keys from her purse. “I’d better go, too. Text me sometime so I won’t feel like such a loner. And you can bet I’ll be rooting from the stands come Friday.”

“Good. I’ll look for your smiling face.” Mindy sits with our parents near the fifty-yard line, and I always offer a thumbs-up in their direction before heading onto the field.

We make our way out, and I do a quick sweep of the vicinity—nothing but maples and aspens with leaves in a rainbow of citrus-colored hues. I don’t see a trace of Sophie or her girlfriends, and I’m relieved, but that kiss still has me gripped by the balls.

“Drive safe, okay?” I offer another quick hug to my sister. “Text me when you get there, so I know you got home.”

“Will do, Dad.” She gives my cheek a hard pinch. “Stay away from those Meyers. I don’t like the funk they put you in.” There’s a level of concern in her dove gray eyes that I’ve never seen before, and I force a tight smile.

“Don’t you ever worry about me. I’m fine. I don’t think about them, and neither should you.”

Mindy struggles to turn her head, but her eyes are still pinned to mine. “I do think about them, though. I think about how wrong it was what happened to you.” She shakes her head, blinking back tears. “Stay away from Soph, Rowen.”

“Excuse me?” I’m so thrown off by the warning I can’t help but wonder if I heard her right.

“Stay away from Sophie Meyer.” Her eyes enlarge, serious as stone. “I saw the look on your face. Yes, she’s gorgeous. Who cares? She’s off-limits.” She glances down a moment, looking as if she’s about to vomit. “And for shit’s sake, stop shaking your junk at whatever slutty coed will have you. You were a one-woman man up until that whole Becca fiasco. Make it happen again. At first I got it. You were hurt. You wanted to prove to the two of them, and yourself, that you didn’t need her, but that time has long since come and gone. If you really want to get under their skin, and heal yourself at the very same time, you’ll find a sweet girl and get happy again.” Mindy takes a deep breath and composes herself after the mini tirade. “Now—kill ’em at next week’s game.” She gives my cheek a light slap and stalks off in the other direction.

What the hell was that about? What the hell has this entire day been about?

I head for Holt Hall, stunned by the events of the afternoon—Sophie and that kiss still burning a hole through my brain, my heart. I cared a lot about Sophie when Braden and I were friends. She was another little sister to me at the time. But I wasn’t feeling too brotherly when I saw her last night, and I sure didn’t have one ounce of familial affection for her this afternoon. Nope. Sophie is all grown up, as gorgeous as can be.

Stay away from Sophie Meyer, my sister’s words pulsate through my mind like a demonic heartbeat. It would have been easy if not for this afternoon—if not for what Dexter Houston’s delusion dream team has in store for the two of us in exactly one week from today. But I won’t be back for that second kiss. There’s no way in hell I’m volunteering for that.

There’s enough adrenaline coursing through my veins to power a 747 as I speed to my dorm.

I won’t be in that room next week waiting to land my lips over hers. Sophie shouldn’t be there either. But I can feel the tug at my ego hoping that she will—hoping against all logic and reasoning that I will, too. I would never have even dreamed of kissing Sophie—maybe for a split second last night, but at that point I was already nurturing a hard-on.

Nope. Sophie Meyer’s kiss is definitely off my list of things to do next weekend.

At least I’m hoping it is.