How"d we meet"
I kidnapped her!
Don"t worry, it"s not as bad as it sounds. Just a silly college dare.
I"m the quarterback and I had to prove to my team that I would do anything.
So I kidnapped the rival school"s cheerleader.
The look in her eyes was priceless.
And the throb in my jockstrap was unmistakable. I wanted her. Bad.
Now I can"t get her out of my mind. My studies are off. My social life is off. And most importantly of all, my game is off. What did she do to me"
Am I really in love with someone who cheers every time my team drops the ball"
My mind tells me no. But my body can"t survive without her.
He kidnapped me.
Can you believe it"
That"s how we met.
He pulls this ridiculous stunt to prove he"s a team player, and kidnaps me.
I wanted to hate his guts.
Before I knew it, he had me breathless with desire. He"s more than just some cocky jock. And it doesn"t hurt that he"s built like a brick house. I"m still dreaming about those washboard abs.
The thing is, I have to forget about him. I"m certainly not allowed to date the rival quarterback.
Team loyalty means everything, right"
But those rock hard abs!
Those dreamy eyes.
And that massive bulge!
Even worse, I"m being forced to date my school"s quarterback. I don"t love him. I don"t even like him. It"s just to keep up appearances.
How did I get into this mess"
And when will I get to run my fingers over those rock hard abs again"Books by Author:Johanna Hawke Books
It was even better than I"d pictured it. Besides the fact that it was exactly 212 miles from the hometown I was eager to leave behind, Hanesville College was as gorgeous as the brochures had made it out to be. I felt like I was in a cheesy TV movie, with couples tossing frisbees back and forth and groups of friends kicking a soccer ball around the courtyard.
I"d known it wasn"t going to be easy starting college two years later than the rest of my high school"s graduating class, but seeing everyone with their already-made groups of friends made the butterflies in my stomach reappear. Nonetheless, I was here. I had to make it work. This was everything I"d been working toward for most of my life.
I hadn"t been in New York for more than a few hours, but I could already tell it was a completely different world from what I was accustomed to in Philadelphia. This was no city. This was suburbia, farmland, the perfect escape from home. As I weaved my used car through the hordes of parents unpacking their children, I couldn"t help but feel a ping of loneliness.
"Come on, Bailey," I heard myself whispering in the silence of the car. "Do it for Mom." That was all I had to tell myself. It always was. I parked toward the back of the parking lot designated for freshmen"yes, I was the twenty-year-old freshman"and drew in a breath. I wondered what it would have been like to have parents who were around, parents who wanted to help move me in as I embarked on this new adventure.
Mom was just a semblance of a memory for me, put together by the photographs I"d seen over the years. Everyone had told me that I was just like her"lovely and smart and polite. I hoped that was true. I"d hate the alternative, the thought that I was anything like that alcoholic asshole of a man that raised me.
As I stepped out of the car and gripped my tote bag under my armpit, I reminded myself of my decoy story. I didn"t want to be the little orphan girl, the girl with the dad who beat on her and whose mom had died giving birth to a younger sibling who also hadn"t made it. That was my story back in my Philadelphia neighborhood. Here, I was going to be Bailey Hubbard, a city girl whose parents worked a lot, and who had a normal family life. That"s what I had decided. This was my chance to start fresh.
The black and yellow school colors were everywhere I moved my eyes, from the lampposts to the banners. I followed the throngs of eager-looking students, noting that, as usual, I was the only one alone. Oh well. I was used to it by now.
"Last name"" A chipper woman smiled at me from a folding table topped with a black and yellow tablecloth.
"Hubbard," I said. "H-U-B""
The woman didn"t let me finish. "Bailey. I"ve got you right here. You"ll be in Brooklyn Hall. Follow the signs to the other side of your courtyard. Once you check in there, you"ll get your key, and you"ll be all set to move your stuff in."
I smiled and thanked the woman, then did as she said. The campus was large enough that there seemed to be plenty to do, but small enough that it wasn"t a huge trek to get to Brooklyn Hall. The dorm, one of two freshmen dorms, had been my top pick, since it had been renovated a few years back. Plus, Brooklyn had suite-style living instead of having to share a bathroom with a floor full of other people.
First big hurdle. Check. Now I just had to keep my fingers and toes crossed that I was placed with a roommate who wasn"t a complete weirdo. I"d filled out a roommate compatibility test, like something from a dating website, but I wasn"t holding my breath for some perfect match. I just needed someone who wasn"t a slob, or super self-absorbed, or completely ignorant. Anyone I could tolerate was fine by me.
Registration at the dorm took less than five minutes, and I pulled my sky-blue sedan around to Brooklyn and claimed the last parking spot right in front of the building. The brick exterior was nothing extravagant, but it was perfect to me. It would be the first place I lived without a raging alcoholic breathing down my neck. It would be the first place I lived without the memory of my mother haunting me at every corner. This was my new home.
The dorm room was small but more than enough to make me happy. Heck, I could"ve been in a cardboard box in Montana and it would have been better than staying in Pennsylvania, in the town I"d grown to detest. The floors were carpeted in a beige color, and the walls looked like they had a fresh coat of paint. I opted for the bed and desk set on the right side of the room. I couldn"t quite say why.