Chapter Two
Chase
I didn’t know what the hell to do with myself anymore.
Dad had sent Taylor to me, and he’d done so knowing I’d always had a secret thing for her. He’d coldly, calculatingly, thrust her back into my life, knowing she’d hit my weak spots without even really trying. I couldn’t stay mad with her. And I couldn’t be mean, crass, or crude. Not for long.
But I was going to try my damn best to be an ass to her, anyway.
I mean, shit, my whole life was a mess right now, and it was my fault.
The last thing I needed to do was drag her down with me.
From the moment I’d been able to grasp things, I’d had a football in my hand. The feel of the ball on my skin had soothed me while I was teething, and I’d always slept with one instead of a stuffed animal. That’s what my nannies told me. What I’d believed my whole life. That I’d always be a football player.
That I’d always be in the game.
Up until the night my dreams became fucking nightmares instead.
Without my future all lined up for me, I didn’t know who I was anymore. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to know. I walked out of my room with my head held high, and my eyes focused straight ahead, ignoring the people staring at me with varying degrees of hatred and fear.
I’d lain awake in bed most of last night, thinking about what Taylor had told me. If Dad had sent her here to tutor me, there was no way in hell I was going to escape her. Taylor was like a dog with a bone; once she had it in her mouth, she wouldn’t let go.
She wouldn’t lose this chance, and if I were being honest I didn’t want her to. She deserved all the best things in life, more so than I ever had.
I had two options. I could say fuck you to Dad and make a run for it. I’d finally be free. Or I could use his money to get a degree and make something of myself.
Football had always been the dream. But that was over.
I needed a backup plan.
One thing was for sure—I might take his money to help my future, but I would never work for my dad. I had to pick a career on my own.
And for that, I had to get a degree.
Maybe I’d play along. Act as if I was all gung-ho about being a Maxwell heir again. Taylor could report back that I was being the perfect grade-A student. I’d do the time, graduate, and afterward I’d leave this town behind…and everyone in it.
It’s what I had wanted to do originally, anyway.
I’d tried to transfer schools after the accident. Dad had told me I needed the life lesson that not everyone would like me—he should know, since pretty much no one liked him—and so, I got stuck at Villanova. And seeing as until I successfully graduated college he was the sole executor of the trust fund my mother had set up for me, I was screwed.
It was either that or rehab again, as he kept reminding me. I hadn’t even known you could be sent to rehab for “emotional distress.” Turns out, you could. Especially when your father was willing to line the pockets of the director to get you in there. I was pretty sure he’d told them I’d gotten hooked on pain pills after the accident, and I was also pretty sure he believed his own lies.
I walked into the packed classroom and scanned the crowd for Taylor. There she was, sitting in the middle. She wore a pair of black-framed glasses with a hint of blue on the sides today, and her long blond hair cascaded down her back and framed her face. Only she could pull off the nerdy student look and still be so sexy. She looked like a hotter, younger Scarlett Johansson.
She used to always have her nose buried in a book. I’d found it annoying at first, since I used to want her attention on me, but eventually I liked that about her—her hunger for worlds unknown and unvisited.
What the hell had Dad been thinking, sending her here to set me straight? Was it some kind of test to see if I could keep my hands to myself? If so, I’d probably fail.
Nothing new there.
Except, I couldn’t fail. I might be going to hell, but she wasn’t going to go with me. I refused to allow that. I might be a bad guy, but I wasn’t that far gone.
I walked to the seat next to Taylor and sat down without saying hello. She turned to me and offered me a cheery smile, looking way too happy for this early in the morning. “Look at you, on time and everything.”
“Yeah.” I shot her a look, still inwardly cursing the night of the accident. Not only had I lost my best friend, I’d cratered my shoulder, singlehandedly ending my quarterback career. “I can still tell time, you know.”
She blinked at me and let out a surprised little laugh. “Hey, was that a joke?”
“No.” I turned toward the front of the class. “I don’t joke with people who aren’t my friends.”
“Ouch. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. I don’t have to be your enemy.” She reached out and rested a small hand on my forearm. I stared at it, unable to take my eyes off her pretty pink fingernails. “We could be friends, instead.”
I tore my gaze off her hand and focused straight ahead, ignoring her. I saw a few people look our way before whispering. They were talking about me. Calling me a freak and a killer.
They were right.
I glowered at the girls frantically whispering and staring at us. I might have messed around with the blond at a frat party once. I wasn’t entirely certain, though. They looked away with hot cheeks and stopped talking.
Good.
“What are you…?” Taylor followed my line of sight and leaned in closer. “Why are they staring at you? Do you know them or something?”
I inhaled her sweet cupcake scent, trying to shut out everyone else but her. If we were going to be forced together, I had to find a way to do it without letting her too close. “Yeah, I know them.”
She frowned. “Who are they? Ex-girlfriends or something?”
Fuck me, she sounded jealous.
I clenched my jaw, still ignoring her hand on my arm.
Entitled asshole coming up. I had to show her there was no hope. She was light and flowers and crazy shit like that. I might need her to get through school, but for both our sakes she had to keep her distance.
“I think I fucked the one on the left once when I was wasted.” I paused, cocking my head. “Maybe the one on the right, too. I’m not positive on that, though.”
Those were lies. I probably had messed around with the blond, but we hadn’t sealed the deal, so to speak. I didn’t sleep around like that. She stiffened and finally yanked her hand back. “You don’t even remember?”
“You know, it might have been both of them at once.” I shrugged, pretending to think about it. “Should I make you a list for future reference?”
She made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. “God, you’re such a pig. What happened to you when you left for school?”
“I got laid,” I said drily. “You should try it sometime.”
“What makes you think I haven’t?” She scooted away and pulled her pad out of her bag. “Did you at least bring a pen with you this time?”
She was getting laid? By who? Irrational jealousy hit me hard at the thought of her naked with some other dude. “Y-Yeah.”
I yanked my stuff out of my bag, keeping my head lowered. As I set everything up in front of me, I ran a hand through my hair. Those girls were looking at me again, and it took all of my control not to lurch at them and wave my hands around like a madman just to freak them the hell out. After all, they seemed to expect it of me.
It would be gratifying to see them jump and squeal, if nothing else.
“Good,” she said distractedly. It was obvious her mind was somewhere else. She tapped her pen against the edge of her desk once, twice, three times. “Are they ever going to stop staring?”
I wanted to say something cocky about them wanting a round two with me, but instead I told her the truth. “No, because I’m not alone for once.”
She tilted her head. “Did you seriously not talk to anyone during the past three months?”
“I had nothing nice to say, so I shut up,” I said stubbornly, tilting my chin up in typical Maxwell fashion.
The girls looked back at me again. The one I’d made out with held my gaze, a small smile on her lips. Did she think I was back to fucking normal again, all because I was talking to someone? Well, I wasn’t. This was Taylor, who my father sent to make sure I didn’t mess up again. She hardly counted as talking to someone.
She was an obligation, not a pleasantry.
If I kept telling myself that, maybe I’d believe it.
I looked away from the blond first, focusing on my new tutor. Taylor had been up front about her role here at Villanova, and hadn’t pretended to be something she wasn’t. I had to give her credit for that, at least.
As a guy who rarely got it, I appreciated honesty.
She shifted in her seat. “Did you seriously sleep with both of them at the same time and forget about it?”
A smile twitched at my lips. Girls were so predictable, it was funny. They hated the idea of a guy kissing and forgetting, even if it wasn’t them. “So what if I did? I’m a Maxwell. We’re supposed to be man-whores. My dad fucks anything with a skirt on, and I’m the same way. It shouldn’t be a huge surprise.”
I hadn’t even realized it before…but in some ways, that was true. I was like my father. I’d become cold. Hard. Uncaring. Focused on nothing but myself.
When had I lost my way?
She looked at me with some sort of emotion in her eyes that I couldn’t quite read. “And you’ve always done your best to be a Maxwell. Is that it?”
Hell no. I hadn’t.
But she wouldn’t know that, would she?
She had no clue who I was anymore, just like I barely knew her. I wrote Advanced Marketing on the top of my notebook. “Yeah, of course. How else will I get my trust fund? I’m a Maxwell, through and through.”
I wanted to gag just saying those words. But I had to play the part.
“God knows you can’t survive without your millions,” she said sarcastically.
“I could, but why would I want to? And what would I do for money? Become a fry cook? Clean houses?” I asked. She reared back in pain at my jab at her mother. Good. That had been my goal. If she didn’t like me, she’d keep her distance. “Get a minimum wage job and try to rent a studio apartment in the ghettos of Philly? Yeah, no thanks.”
She pressed her lips together and stared straight ahead. “This arrangement we have going between us is going to be a heck of a lot easier than I thought it would be. Thanks for that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The professor started talking, and Taylor ignored me. A part of me wanted to make her answer my question, but I forced myself to pay attention to the class.
The next hour or so passed in a blur of note-taking and lectures. My shoulder started to ache like a bitch from all the movement, but I didn’t stop or take a break.
About halfway through the class, I looked over at Taylor. She was scribbling energetically next to me, her nose scrunched up in concentration. It was way too damn cute. She had her lower lip caught between her teeth, and she looked so focused and determined to be the best in the class. She always wanted to be the best at everything.
We’d once had that in common.
Slowly, she looked up at me, catching me watching her. I held her gaze, not flinching when her blue eyes latched on to mine and didn’t let go. I cocked a brow at her, challenging her without even saying a word.
Her cheeks flushed, and she was the first one to look away.
I’d won.
It was then, with that small victory coursing through my veins, that I made my final decision. I’d stay in Villanova. Pass my classes. Get my degree next year…and then I’d get the hell out of here. But my decision to stay had nothing to do with Taylor coming back into my life. Nothing at all.
I focused on the teacher again, squinting across the room at him. Now that I had an end goal in mind, I was more determined than ever to focus. Maybe I could start over somewhere. I was going to school for business management, so maybe I could get a management position somewhere, or go to grad school on the West Coast.
Anywhere but here. Anywhere but with Dad.
I could go somewhere where no one knew who the hell I was, or that I’d killed my best friend. Taylor nudged me. I looked over at her, and she raised her brows.
“You did good,” she said, her voice tinged with approval.
I flexed my arm. It hurt like a mo-fo. Now I remembered why I’d stopped taking notes, damn it. “Uh, thanks?” I looked toward the front of the classroom. The professor was done talking, so the class must be over. I looked at my notes. They all made complete sense. “Good thing Dad sent someone here to make sure I could still write.”
She ignored me. “You have Management and Organization Theory next, right?”
“Um…” I thought about it. “Yeah.”
“Me, too.”
Of course, she did. She couldn’t babysit me if she wasn’t glued to my hip. “I figured.” I shoved my stuff into my bag, ignoring the looks that kept getting thrown at me. People needed to learn how to mind their own damn business. “Are you in every single class of mine?”
“Yep, pretty much. I told you that last night.” She shrugged and hauled her bag onto her shoulder. “Your dad is nothing if not thorough.”
Yeah. I knew that all too well. “Why did he send you, of all people?”
I knew why, but I was curious if she did, too.
Shrugging, she started for the door. “I guess he thought you’d accept me easier?”
“I don’t know why he’d think that,” I said, looking her up and down.
She glanced away. For a second, I thought I’d hurt her, and I almost felt sorry for it. Almost apologized, even. But she looked back my way, and her eyes were hard, and I remembered why she was here in the first place. She needed the money my father had offered her. Plain and simple. All the guilt left me just like that. I’d make sure she got her cash, and her education, but I didn’t have to make it easy on her.
“Yeah.” She twisted her lips up into a mockery of a smile. “You made that perfectly clear. Luckily for you, your father likes me enough to trust me to get the job done.”
“He doesn’t like anyone unless he’s fucking—” I looked at her. “Shit. Are you—?”
The idea of my father touching her literally made me sick. I was going to fucking puke.
“God, no. Ew.” She gave me a dirty-ass look, and I almost took the insult back. I knew deep down that she wasn’t with my dad, but I wanted to get under her skin the same way she’d gotten under mine. “Screw you for even thinking I’d be that girl.”
“What girl?”
She rolled her eyes. “The one who slept with a rich guy for rewards.”
“Well, he is rewarding you.”
“For a job,” she seethed. “I’m your tutor, not his girl.”
“Is he paying for your boarding, too?”
“Yeah. Are you kidding me? I couldn’t afford to dorm otherwise.” She stole a quick glance at me. “Your dad pays well, but not that well. This is a huge step for me. A big opportunity.”
So she got an expensive degree and all she had to do was make sure I passed all my classes. Not a bad deal for her. “How’s it feel, selling your soul to the devil?”
She turned red. “Dark and twisty. You’re a hot mess, and there’s nothing I can do to help you through that, but I’ll try my best for you.”
Taylor? One. Me? Zero.
“I wasn’t talking about me, and you know it.”
She pushed through the door. “Oh, wait, did you mean how it is working with your dad? It’s fine. He, at least, has his shit together.”
I clenched my jaw. She’d grown claws. Time for a change of subject before she scratched me too deeply. “What’s your major?”
“Same as yours. Business Management.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I want to own my own company someday. Maybe be a CEO, like your dad.”
I shuddered. “You shouldn’t strive to be like him.”
“Being a CEO doesn’t have to mean being evil,” she said defensively. “There are good ones out there, who care about people and are altruistic.”
She kept answering me calmly, even though I was attacking her with every question. It was annoying as hell that she was so fucking calm all the time. What did I have to do to piss her off? “But why would you want to be a CEO, out of all the things in the world you could do?”
I honestly didn’t get it.
I’d only chosen my major because I’d been planning on playing for the NFL. Business management had seemed like a simple enough major that would allow me to sail through college with minimal effort since I’d been watching my dad run the world for years. But I didn’t want to actually do it my whole life, damn it.
Now here I was. Stuck with a career I hated.
“It pays well.” She laughed a little. “For a girl who barely ever had anything in life, that’s a huge draw. I could support my parents when they retire, since they used all their savings for my community college tuition. Your dad coming to me for help was a frigging dream come true for us all…” She turned down the path to our next class. People blinked at us, obviously taking in the fact that I wasn’t alone. “But you wouldn’t understand any of that.”
I stiffened. “Why? Because I’m filthy rich?”
“Exactly.” She stopped walking and looked up at me through her lashes. “Do you deny you wouldn’t understand the monetary struggles of normal people?”
I should probably say something cocky and rude to that, but instead I heard myself say, “I understand more than you’d think.”
She considered me. “I’m sure you do. You always had empathy, when we were kids.” She licked her lips, leaving a trail of moisture behind. “Not sure about now, though.”
I stared at her mouth, wondering what she’d taste like. I’d almost kissed her once. I’d just turned sixteen. She’d been fifteen. For me, our friendship had always been more than platonic, but she’d never seen me as more than someone to waste time with in between books.
“Why did you stop talking to me?” I asked, my voice raspy. I hadn’t even meant to ask, but there was no backing down now. “What did I do?”
“Nothing,” she said, her voice cracking.
She bit down on the corner of her lower lip. It was hot as hell. My cock hardened, and I looked away before I forgot all about who she was and why she was here.
“Then why did you stop?”
She hesitated. “Does it really matter?”
“Yeah. It fucking matters.”
“I had it explained to me that ‘a gentleman of your class doesn’t form permanent attachments to young ladies from the lower orders, and I should look elsewhere if I hoped to increase my social standing.’” She paused. “Yes, he actually used those words. He sounded like he was reading from a regency novel.”
I stared at her.
It was my father’s fault. Why was I not surprised?
She lifted a shoulder. “He wasn’t wrong.”
I wanted to be pissed, but honestly, I should have known he would kill the one friendship I’d ever truly valued. First, he ruined my mother, and now me. Anger swept over me, but I shoved it down. This wasn’t the time or place.
Not when his employee was right in front of me.
“No, he wasn’t wrong. I mean, look at us.”
She paled. “Yeah. I know. You’re in Gucci and Prada, and I’m wearing Old Navy.” She tilted her head. “What if my poorness rubbed off on you? Before you knew it, you’d be dining at McDonald’s for fun instead of the Ritz.”
A laugh escaped me. I don’t know who was more surprised by it: her, me, or the girl that almost walked into a pole at the sound. It drove home how far I’d fallen in the past few months. I used to run this place.
Now I was the fucking Hunchback of Villanova.
I tore my attention from the girl who was now glancing at me with something akin to interest in her eyes. Had I known her before I’d changed? I couldn’t remember.
Man, I really was an asshole.
“I don’t know about that, Mousey. I think maybe I would have rubbed off on you.”
She sucked in a deep breath, her pupils flaring.
I immediately regretted my words. “That’s not what I meant,” I said in a rush. “I mean that maybe you’d like the Ritz, or fancy cars. Not…that.”
The last thing I needed was her thinking I was hitting on her. I wasn’t. If this tutoring for college thing was going to work, lines needed to be drawn in the sand between us, and those lines could never be crossed.
No matter how pretty she was.
She met my eyes with challenge clear in them. “In case you didn’t notice, Chase, I’m not exactly mousey anymore.”
“I disagree.” I stepped closer, towering over her petite frame. What was she, anyway? Five foot one? She was ridiculously small. It was seriously doubtful she’d grown a millimeter over the last six years. I lowered my hand from my head to hers. “You’re still as tiny as a mouse, and I think you’re still the shy little girl you always were. Do you still read books all the time?”
“Yes.” She twisted her lips and put her hands on her hips. “And I might be tiny, but I can kick your ass so hard you’ll—”
“Hey, look. The freak’s talking to someone,” someone called out just loud enough for me to hear. “Did he already forget what he did to Joey?”
I spun around and easily located Gary, a former teammate of mine. We’d been friends, before the accident. But that had been before I killed Joey.
No matter what I said, or how many times I said it, no one believed me when I said I was trying to save him. No one believed me when I said that we hadn’t been racing, that I’d been trying to stop him. I’d stopped trying to convince them.
Myself, too, I guess.
The thing was, I hadn’t had a drop of alcohol that night—Joey had. I’d been trying to get him to stop drunk driving, and stupidly chased after him in my own car when he took off before I got the keys out of his hand. He’d laughed and stepped on the gas, flipping me off, and I’d sped up, motioning for him to stop and cursing him out through our open windows.
Begging him to pull over.
Until…he was gone. I’d slammed on my brakes, but I still lost control. By the time, I’d managed to crawl out of my totaled Ferrari, it had been too late. I’d struggled to my feet, wheezing for air, and bam. Joey’s Porsche had exploded in a fiery blaze.
A new me had been born that night…
And I’d hated him.
Still did.
“Fuck off, asshole,” Taylor said, her face flushed.
I blinked, jerked back into the present. “Taylor—”
Gary stepped forward, anger clear in his eyes. “What did you say to me?”
“I said, fuck off, asshole.” She smiled real pretty, looking like an angel come to earth. “Need me to repeat it again for you? Or maybe I could write it down so you can sound it out when you’re alone in your room?”
Holy shit, the girl had backbone. I wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or nervous around her now. Maybe a little bit of both. I pulled her back behind me. Gary had always been a hothead, and I didn’t trust him not to strike back. “Taylor.”
Gary laughed. “You realize who you’re defending, right?”
“I think she knows, considering my face was blasted all over the news for weeks,” I said, speaking the first words to anyone here besides her since the accident. At least the first words since I’d sworn my innocence and no one had listened. “But thanks for checking.”
Gary gave me a hard look before staring at Taylor. “You should think twice about the company you keep, or you might end up like his last buddy—dead.”
I curled my hands into fists and watched him go, feeling as helpless as ever. I hated this place. Hated it all. Maybe I should forget about the degree and just run, after all.
And keep running.
She growled low in her throat. “God, what a douche. Come on. Let’s go inside.”
I looked down at her, torn between awe at her spitfire attitude, and the desire to tell her to leave me alone so I could deal with this latest attack in peace. She wasn’t my friend, and she needed to stop acting like she was. “He’s right. You should keep your distance. I’m the big bad wolf around here. If you get too close, I might bite.”
“Well, lucky for you I’m not Little Red Riding Hood, and I’ve never been scared of your bark before.” She shoved her glasses back into place and stomped toward the doors. “I’m not about to start now, either. Now, come on.”
I followed her. All I could think was that if she kept playing with the beast, I just might catch her. Once I had her in my arms, I’d taste every square inch of her body until I drove her insane with desire. But she shouldn’t worry because, even though I’d love every second of it and so would she…
I was never going to let that happen.