AVA

THERE WERE WORSE THINGS THAN BEING STRANDED IN THE MIDDLE OF

nowhere during a rainstorm.

For example, I could be running from a rabid bear intent on mauling me

into the next century. Or I could be tied to a chair in a dark basement and

forced to listen to Aqua’s “Barbie Girl” on repeat until I’d rather gnaw off my

arm than hear the song’s eponymous phrase again.

But just because things could be worse didn’t mean they didn’t suck.

Stop. Think positive thoughts.

“An Uber will show up…now.” I stared at my phone, biting back my

frustration when the app reassured me it was “finding my ride”, the way it

had been for the past half hour.

Normally, I’d be less stressed about the situation because hey, at least I

had a working phone and a bus shelter to keep me mostly dry from the

pounding rain. But Josh’s farewell party was starting in an hour, I had yet to

pick up his surprise cake from the bakery, and it would be dark soon. I may

be a glass half full kinda gal, but I wasn’t an idiot. No one—especially not a

college girl with zero fighting skills to speak of—wants to find herself alone

in the middle of nowhere after dark.

I should’ve taken those self-defense classes with Jules like she wanted.

I mentally scrolled through my limited options. The bus that stopped at

this location didn’t run on the weekends, and most of my friends didn’t own a

car. Bridget had car service, but she was at an embassy event until seven.

Uber wasn’t working, and I hadn’t seen a single car pass by since the rain

started. Not that I would hitchhike, anyway—I’ve watched horror movies,

thank you very much

I only had one option left—one I really didn’t want to take—but beggars

couldn’t be choosers.

I pulled up the contact in my phone, said a silent prayer, and pressed the

call button.

One ring. Two rings. Three.

Come on, pick up. Or not. I wasn’t sure which would be worse—getting

murdered or dealing with my brother. Of course, there was always the chance

said brother would murder me himself for putting myself in such a situation,

but I’d deal with that later.

“What’s wrong?”

I scrunched my nose at his greeting. “Hello to you too, brother dearest.

What makes you think something is wrong?”

Josh snorted. “Uh, you called me. You never call unless you’re in

trouble.”

True. We preferred texting, and we lived next door to each other—not my

idea, by the way—so we rarely had to message at all.

“I wouldn’t say I’m in trouble,” I hedged. “More like…stranded. I’m not

near public transport, and I can’t find an Uber.”

“Christ, Ava. Where are you?”

I told him.

“What the hell are you doing there? That’s an hour from campus!”

“Don’t be dramatic. I had an engagement shoot, and it’s a thirty-minute

drive. Forty-five if there’s traffic.” Thunder boomed, shaking the branches of

nearby trees. I winced and shrank farther back into the shelter, not that it did

me much good. The rain slanted sideways, splattering me with water droplets

so heavy and hard they stung when they hit my skin.

A rustling noise came from Josh’s end, followed by a soft moan.

I paused, sure I’d heard wrong, but nope, there it was again. Another

moan.

My eyes widened in horror. “Are you having sex right now?” I whisper-

shouted, even though no one else was around.

The sandwich I’d scarfed down before I left for my shoot threatened to

make a reappearance. There was nothing—I repeat nothing—grosser than

listening to a relative while they’re mid-coitus. Just the thought made me gag.

“Technically, no.” Josh sounded unrepentant.

The word “technically” did a lot of heavy lifting there.

It didn’t take a genius to decipher Josh’s vague reply. He may not behaving intercourse, but something was going on, and I had zero desire to find

out what that “something” was.

“Josh Chen.”

“Hey, you’re the one who called me.” He must’ve covered his phone with

his hand, because his next words came through muffled. I heard a soft,

feminine laugh followed by a squeal, and I wanted to bleach my ears, my

eyes, my mind. “One of the guys took my car to buy more ice,” Josh said, his

voice clear again. “But don’t worry, I got you. Drop a pin on your exact

location and keep your phone close. Do you still have the pepper spray I

bought for your birthday last year?”

“Yes. Thanks for that, by the way.” I’d wanted a new camera bag, but

Josh had bought me an eight-pack of pepper spray instead. I’d never used any

of it, which meant all eight bottles—minus the one tucked in my purse—were

sitting snug in the back of my closet.

My sarcasm went over my brother’s head. For a straight-A pre-med

student, he could be quite dense. “You’re welcome. Stay put, and he’ll be

there soon. We’ll talk about your complete lack of self-preservation later.”

“I’m self-preserved,” I protested. Was that the right word? “It’s not my

fault there are no Ub—wait, what do you mean ‘he’? Josh!”

Too late. He’d already hung up.

Figured the one time I wanted him to elaborate, he’d ditch me for one of

his bed buddies. I was surprised he hadn’t freaked out more, considering Josh

put the “over” in overprotective. Ever since “The Incident,” he’d taken it

upon himself to look after me like he was my brother and bodyguard rolled

into one. I didn’t blame him—our childhood had been a hundred shades of

messed up, or so I’d been told—and I loved him to pieces, but his constant

worrying could be a bit much.

I sat sideways on the bench and hugged my bag to my side, letting the

cracked leather warm my skin while I waited for the mysterious “he” to show

up. It could be anyone. Josh had no shortage of friends. He’d always been

Mr. Popular—basketball player, student body president, and homecoming

king in high school; Sigma fraternity brother and Big Man on Campus in

college.

I was his opposite. Not unpopular per se, but I shied away from the

limelight and would rather have a small group of close friends than a large

group of friendly acquaintances. Where Josh was the life of the party, I sat in

the corner and daydreamed about all the places I would love to visit but would probably never get to. Not if my phobia had anything to do with it.

My damn phobia. I knew it was all mental, but it felt physical. The

nausea, the racing heart, the paralyzing fear that turned my limbs into useless,

frozen things…

On the bright side, at least I wasn’t afraid of rain. Oceans and lakes and

pools, I could avoid, but rain…yeah, that would’ve been bad.

I wasn’t sure how long I huddled in the tiny bus shelter, cursing my lack

of foresight when I turned down the Graysons’ offer to drive me back to town

after our shoot. I hadn’t wanted to inconvenience them and thought I could

call an Uber and be back at Thayer’s campus in half an hour, but the skies

opened up right after the couple left and, well, here I was.

It was getting dark. Muted grays mingled with the cool blues of twilight,

and part of me worried the mysterious “he” wouldn’t show up, but Josh had

never let me down. If one of his friends failed to pick me up like he’d asked,

they wouldn’t have working legs tomorrow. Josh was a med student, but he

had zero compunction about using violence when the situation called for it—

especially when the situation involved me.

The bright beam of headlights slashed through the rain. I squinted, my

heart tripping in both anticipation and wariness as I weighed the odds of

whether the car belonged to my ride or a potential psycho. This part of

Maryland was pretty safe, but you never knew.

When my eyes adjusted to the light, I slumped with relief, only to stiffen

again two seconds later.

Good news? I recognized the sleek, black Aston Martin pulling up toward

me. It belonged to one of Josh’s friends, which meant I wouldn’t end up a

local news item tonight.

Bad news? The person driving said Aston Martin was the last person I

wanted—or expected—to pick me up. He wasn’t an I’ll do my buddy a favor

and rescue his stranded little sister kinda guy. He was a look at me wrong

and I’ll destroy you and everyone you care about kinda guy, and he’d do it

looking so calm and gorgeous you wouldn’t notice your world burning down

around you until you were already a heap of ashes at his Tom Ford-clad feet.

I swiped the tip of my tongue over my dry lips as the car stopped in front

of me and the passenger window rolled down.

“Get in.”

He didn’t raise his voice—he never raised his voice—but I still heard him

loud and clear over the rain.

Alex Volkov was a force of nature unto himself, and I imagined even the

weather bowed to him.

“I hope you’re not waiting for me to open the door for you,” he said when

I didn’t move. He sounded as happy as I was about the situation.

What a gentleman.

I pressed my lips together and bit back a sarcastic reply as I roused

myself from the bench and ducked into the car. It smelled cool and

expensive, like spicy cologne and fine Italian leather. I didn’t have a towel or

anything to place on the seat beneath me, so all I could do was pray I didn’t

damage the expensive interior.

“Thanks for picking me up. I appreciate it,” I said in an attempt to break

the icy silence.

I failed. Miserably.

Alex didn’t respond or even look at me as he navigated the twists and

curves of the slick roads leading back to campus. He drove the same way he

walked, talked, and breathed—steady and controlled, with an undercurrent of

danger warning those foolish enough to contemplate crossing him that doing

so would be their death sentence.

He was the exact opposite of Josh, and I still marveled at the fact that

they were best friends. Personally, I thought Alex was an asshole. I was sure

he had his reasons, some kind of psychological trauma which shaped him into

the unfeeling robot he was today. Based on the snippets I’d gleaned from

Josh, Alex’s childhood had been even worse than ours, though I’d never

managed to pull the details out of my brother. All I knew was, Alex’s parents

had died when he was young and left him a pile of money he’d quadrupled

the value of when he came into his inheritance at age eighteen. Not that he’d

needed it because he’d invented a new financial modeling software in high

school that made him a multimillionaire before he could vote.

With an IQ of 160, Alex Volkov was a genius, or close to it. He was the

only person in Thayer’s history to complete its five-year joint

undergrad/MBA program in three years, and at age twenty-six, he was the

COO of one of the most successful real estate development companies in the

country. He was a legend, and he knew it.

Meanwhile, I thought I was doing well if I remembered to eat while

juggling my classes, extracurriculars, and two jobs—front desk duty at the

McCann Gallery, and my side hustle as a photographer for anyone who

would hire me. Graduations, engagements, dogs’ birthday parties, I did the mall.

“Are you going to Josh’s party?” I tried again to make small talk. The

silence was killing me.

Alex and Josh had been best friends since they roomed together at Thayer

eight years ago, and Alex had joined my family for Thanksgiving and

assorted holidays every year since, but I still didn’t know him. Alex and I

didn’t talk unless it had to do with Josh or passing the potatoes at dinner or

something.

“Yes.”

Okay, then. Guess small talk was out.

My mind wandered toward the million things I had to do that weekend.

Edit the photos from the Graysons’ shoot and, work on my application for the

World Youth Photography fellowship, help Josh finish packing after—

Crap! I’d forgotten all about Josh’s cake.

I’d ordered it two weeks ago because that was the max lead time for

something from Crumble & Bake. It was Josh’s favorite dessert, a three-layer

dark chocolate frosted with fudge and filled with chocolate pudding. He only

indulged on his birthday, but since he was leaving the country for a year, I

figured he could break his once-a-year rule.

“So…” I pasted the biggest, brightest smile on my face. “Don’t kill me,

but we need to make a detour to Crumble & Bake.”

“No. We’re already late.” Alex stopped at a red light. We’d made it back

to civilization, and I spotted the blurred outlines of a Starbucks and a Panera

through the rain-splattered glass.

My smile didn’t budge. “It’s a small detour. It’ll take fifteen minutes,

max. I just need to run in and pick up Josh’s cake. You know, the Death by

Chocolate he likes so much? He’ll be in Central America for a year, they

don’t have C&B down there, and he leaves in two days so—”

“Stop.” Alex’s fingers curled around the steering wheel, and my crazy,

hormonal mind latched onto how beautiful they were. That might sound

crazy because who has beautiful fingers? But he did. Physically, everything

about him was beautiful. The jade-green eyes that glared out from beneath

dark brows like chips hewn from a glacier; the sharp jawline and elegant,

sculpted cheekbones; the lean frame and thick, light brown hair that

somehow looked both tousled and perfectly coiffed. He resembled a statue in

an Italian museum come to life.

The insane urge to ruffle his hair like I would a kid’s gripped me, just sohe’d stop looking so perfect—which was quite irritating to the rest of us mere

mortals—but I didn’t have a death wish, so I kept my hands planted in my

lap.

“If I take you to Crumble & Bake, will you stop talking?”

No doubt he regretted picking me up.

My smile grew. “If you want.”

His lips thinned. “Fine.”

Yes!

Ava Chen: One.

Alex Volkov: Zero.

When we arrived at the bakery, I unbuckled my seatbelt and was halfway

out the door when Alex grabbed my arm and pulled me back into my seat.

Contrary to what I’d expected, his touch wasn’t cold—it was scorching, and

it burned through my skin and muscles until I felt its warmth in the pit of my

stomach.

I swallowed hard. Stupid hormones. “What? We’re already late, and

they’re closing soon.”

“You can’t go out like that.” The tiniest hint of disapproval etched into

the corners of his mouth.

“Like what?” I asked, confused. I wore jeans and a T-shirt, nothing

scandalous.

Alex inclined his head toward my chest. I glanced down and let out a

horrified yelp. Because my shirt? White. Wet. Transparent. Not even a little

transparent, like you could kind of see my bra outline if you looked hard

enough. This was full-on see-through. Red lace bra, hard nipples—thanks,

air-conditioning—the whole shebang.

I crossed my arms over my chest, my face flaming the same color as my

bra. “Was it like this the entire time?”

“Yes.”

“You could’ve told me.”

“I did tell you. Just now.”

Sometimes, I wanted to strangle him. I really did. And I wasn’t even a

violent person. I was the same girl who didn’t eat gingerbread man cookies

for years after watching Shrek because I felt like I was eating Gingy’s family

members or, worse, Gingy himself, but something about Alex provoked my

dark side.

I exhaled a sharp breath and dropped my arms by instinct, forgetting about my see-through shirt until Alex’s gaze flicked down to my chest again.

The flaming cheeks returned, but I was sick of sitting here arguing with

him. Crumble & Bake closed in ten minutes, and the clock was ticking.

Maybe it was the man, the weather, or the hour and a half I’d spent stuck

under a bus shelter, but my frustration spilled out before I could stop it.

“Instead of being an asshole and staring at my breasts, can you lend me your

jacket? Because I really want to get this cake and send my brother, your best

friend, off in style before he leaves the country.”

My words hung in the air while I clapped a hand over my mouth,

horrified. Did I just utter the word “breasts” to Alex Volkov and accuse him

of ogling me? And call him an asshole?

Dear God, if you smite me with lightning right now, I won’t be mad.

Promise.

Alex’s eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch. It ranked in the top five most

emotional responses I’d pulled out of him in eight years, so that was

something.

“Trust me, I was not staring at your breasts,” he said, his voice frigid

enough to transform the lingering drops of moisture on my skin into icicles.

“You’re not my type, even if you weren’t Josh’s sister.”

Ouch. I wasn’t interested in Alex either, but no girl enjoys being

dismissed so easily by a member of the opposite sex.

“Whatever. There’s no need to be a jerk about it,” I muttered. “Look,

C&B closes in two minutes. Just let me borrow your jacket, and we can get

out of here.”

I’d pre-paid online, so all I needed was to grab the cake.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’ll get it. You’re not leaving the car dressed

like that, even wearing my jacket.”

Alex yanked an umbrella out from beneath his seat and exited the car in

one fluid motion. He moved like a panther, all coiled grace and laser

intensity. If he wanted, he could make a killing as a runway model, though I

doubted he’d ever do anything so “gauche.”

He returned less than five minutes later with Crumble & Bake’s signature

pink-and-mint-green cake box tucked beneath one arm. He dumped it in my

lap, snapped his umbrella closed, and reversed out of the parking spot

without so much as blinking.

“Do you ever smile?” I asked, peeking inside the box to make sure they hadn’t messed up the order. Nope. One Death by Chocolate, coming right up.

“It might help with your condition.”

“What condition?” Alex sounded bored.

“Stickup the ass it is.” I’d already called the man an asshole, so what was

one more insult?

I might’ve imagined it, but I thought I saw his mouth twitch before he

responded with a bland, “No. The condition is chronic.”

My hands froze while my jaw unhinged. “D-did you make a joke?”

“Explain why you were out there in the first place.” Alex evaded my

question and changed subjects so quick I had whiplash.

He made a joke. I wouldn’t have believed it had I not seen it with my own

eyes. “I had a photoshoot with clients. There’s a nice lake in—”

“Spare me the details. I don’t care.”

A low growl slipped from my throat. “Why are you here? Didn’t figure

you for the chauffeur type.”

“I was in the area, and you’re Josh’s little sister. If you died, he’d be a

bore to hang out with.” Alex pulled up in front of my house. Next door, AKA

at Josh’s house, the lights blazed, and I could see people dancing and

laughing through the windows.

“Josh has the worst taste in friends,” I bit out. “I don’t know what he sees

in you. I hope that stick in your ass punctures a vital organ.” Then, because

I’d been raised with manners, I added, “Thank you for the ride.”

I huffed out of the car. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and I smelled

damp earth and the hydrangeas clustered in a pot by the front door. I’d

shower, change, then catch the last half of Josh’s party. Hopefully, he

wouldn’t give me shit for getting stranded or being late because I wasn’t in

the mood.

I never stay angry for long, but right then, my blood simmered and I

wanted to punch Alex Volkov in the face.

He was so cold and arrogant and…and…him. It was infuriating.

At least I didn’t have to deal with him often. Josh usually hung out with

him in the city, and Alex didn’t visit Thayer even though he was an alumnus.

Thank God. If I had to see Alex more than a few times a year, I’d go

crazy.

ALEX

“WE SHOULD TAKE THIS SOMEWHERE MORE…PRIVATE.” THE BLONDE TRAILED

her fingers down my arm, her hazel eyes bright with invitation as she swiped

her tongue over her bottom lip. “Or not. Whatever you’re into.”

My lips curved—not enough to classify as a smile, but enough to

broadcast my thoughts. You can’t handle what I’m into.

Despite her short, tight dress and suggestive words, she looked like the

type who expected sweet nothings and lovemaking in bed.

I didn’t do sweet nothings or lovemaking.

I fucked a certain way, and only a specific type of woman was into that

shit. Not hardcore BDSM, but not soft. No kissing, no face-to-face contact.

Women agreed, then tried to change it up halfway through, after which I’d

stop and show them the door. I have no tolerance for people who can’t keep

to a simple agreement.

That was why I stuck to a roster of familiar rotating names when I needed

a release; both sides knew what to expect.

The blonde was not making it onto that roster.

“Not tonight.” I swirled the ice in my glass. “It’s my friend’s farewell

party.”

She followed my gaze toward Josh, who was basking in female attention

of his own. He sprawled on the couch, one of the few remaining pieces of

furniture after he’d packed the house up in anticipation of his year abroad,

and grinned while three women fawned over him. He’d always been the

charming one. While I put people on edge, he put them at ease, and his

approach toward the fairer sex was the opposite of mine. The more, the

merrier, according to Josh. He’d probably fucked half the D.C. metro area’sfemale population by now.

“He can join too.” The blonde edged closer until her tits grazed my arm.

“I don’t mind.”

“Same.” Her friend, a petite brunette who had been quiet up till now but

who’d eyed me like I was a juicy steak since I walked in the door, piped up.

“Lyss and I do everything together.”

The insinuation couldn’t have been clearer had she tattooed it across her

exposed cleavage.

Most guys would’ve jumped at the opportunity, but I was already bored

with the conversation. Nothing turned me off more than desperation, which

reeked stronger than their perfume.

I didn’t bother answering. Instead, I scanned the room for something

more interesting to hold my attention. If it were a party for anyone else but

Josh, I would’ve skipped it. Between my job as COO of The Archer Group

and my…side project, I had enough on my plate without attending pointless

social gatherings. But Josh was my best friend—one of the few people whose

company I could stand for more than an hour at a time—and he was leaving

Monday for his gap year as a medical volunteer in Central America. So here I

was, pretending like I actually wanted to be here.

A silvery laugh pealed through the air, drawing my eyes toward the

source.

Ava. Of course.

Josh’s little sister was so sweet and sunshiney all the time, I half-expected

flowers to sprout on the ground wherever she walked and a coterie of singing

woodland animals to trail behind her while she traipsed through meadows or

whatever girls like her did.

She stood in the corner with her friends, her face bright with animation as

she laughed at something one of them said. I wondered if it was a real laugh

or a fake laugh. Most laughs—hell, most people—were fake. They woke up

every morning and put on a mask according to what they wanted that day and

who they wanted the world to see. They smiled at people they hated, laughed

at jokes that weren’t funny, and kissed the asses of those they secretly hoped

to dethrone.

I wasn’t judging. Like everyone else, I had my masks, and they ran layers

deep. But unlike everyone else, I had as much interest in ass-kissing and

small talk as I did in injecting bleach into my veins.

Knowing Ava, her laugh was real.

Poor girl. The world would eat her alive once she left the Thayer bubble.

Not my problem.

“Yo.” Josh appeared beside me, his hair tousled and his mouth stretched

into a wide grin. His hangers-on were nowhere—wait, nope. There they were,

dancing to Beyoncé like they were auditioning for a gig at The Strip Angel

while a circle of guys watched them with their tongues lolling out. Men. My

gender could use a little more standards and a little less thinking with their

small head. “Thanks for showing up, man. Sorry I haven’t said hi till now.

I’ve been…busy.”

“I saw.” I arched an eyebrow at the lipstick print smeared on the corner of

his mouth. “You have a little something on your face.”

His grin widened. “Badge of honor. Speaking of which, I’m not

interrupting, am I?”

I glanced at the blonde and brunette, who’d moved on to making out with

each other after failing to capture my interest.

“No.” I shook my head. “A hundred bucks says you won’t survive the full

year in Bumfuck, Nowhere. No women, no parties. You’ll be back before

Halloween.”

“Oh, ye of little faith. There’ll be women, and the party is wherever I

am.” Josh swiped an unopened beer from a nearby cooler and cracked it

open. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that. Me being gone,” he

clarified.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting sentimental on me. If you bought us

friendship bracelets, I’m out.”

“Fuck you, dude.” He laughed. “I wouldn’t buy your ass jewelry if you

paid me. No, this is about Ava.”

My glass paused an inch from my lips before I brought it home and the

sweet burn of whiskey flowed down my throat. I hate beer. It tastes like piss,

but since it was the drink du jour at Josh’s parties, I always brought a flask of

Macallan whenever I visited.

“What about her?”

Josh and his sister were close, even if they bickered so much I wanted to

duct tape their mouths sometimes. That was the nature of siblings—

something I’d never quite gotten to experience.

The whiskey turned sour in my mouth, and I set my glass down with a

grimace.

“I’m worried about her.” Josh rubbed a hand over his jaw, his expression growing serious. “I know she’s a big girl and can take care of herself—unless

she’s getting stranded in the middle of fucking nowhere; thanks for picking

her up, by the way—but she’s never been on her own for so long and she can

be a little too…trusting.”

I had an inkling of where Josh was going with this, and I didn’t like it. At

all. “She won’t be alone. She has her friends.” I inclined my head toward said

friends. One of them, a curvy redhead in a gold skirt that made her look like a

disco ball, chose that moment to hop onto the table and shake her ass to the

rap song blasting through the speakers.

Josh snorted. “Jules? She’s a liability, not help. Stella is as trusting as

Ava, and Bridget…well, she has security, but she’s not around as much.”

“You don’t need to worry. Thayer’s safe, and the crime rate here is close

to zero.”

“Yeah, but I’d feel better if I had someone I trusted looking after her, ya

know?”

Fuck. The train was heading straight off a cliff, and I couldn’t do

anything to stop it.

“I wouldn’t ask—I know you’ve got a lot of shit going on—but she broke

up with her ex a couple of weeks ago, and he’s been harassing her. I always

knew he was a little shit, but she wouldn’t listen to me. Anyway, if you could

keep an eye on her—just to make sure she doesn’t get killed or kidnapped or

anything? I’d owe you big.”

“You already owe me for all those times I saved your ass,” I said wryly.

“You had fun while doing it. You’re too uptight sometimes.” Josh

grinned. “So, is that a yes?”

I glanced at Ava again. Took her in. She was twenty-two, four years

younger than Josh and me, and she managed to appear both younger and

older than her years. It was the way she carried herself, like she’d seen it all

—the good, the bad, the downright ugly—and still believed in goodness.

It was as stupid as it was admirable.

She must’ve felt me staring because she paused her conversation and

looked directly at me, her cheeks tinting pink at my unflinching gaze. She’d

changed out of her jeans and T-shirt into a purple dress that swirled around

her knees.

Too bad. The dress was nice, but my mind flashed back to our car ride,

when her damp shirt had clung to her like a second skin and her nipples had

strained against the decadent red lace of her bra. I’d meant what I’d said about her not being my type, but I’d enjoyed the view. I could imagine

myself lifting that shirt, tugging her bra aside with my teeth, and closing my

mouth around those sweet, hardened peaks—

I yanked myself out of that startling fantasy fast. What the fuck was

wrong with me? That was Josh’s sister. Innocent, doe-eyed, and so sweet I

could throw up. The total opposite of the sophisticated, jaded women I

preferred both in and out of bed. I didn’t have to worry about feelings with

the latter; they knew better than to develop any around me. Ava was nothing

but feelings, with a hint of sass.

A ghost of a smile passed over my mouth when I remembered her parting

shot earlier. I hope that stick in your ass punctures a vital organ.

Not the worst thing anyone’s said to me, not by a long shot, but more

aggressive than I’d expected coming from her. I’d never heard her say a bad

word to or about anyone before. I took perverse pleasure in the fact that I

could rile her up so much.

“Alex,” Josh prompted.

“I don’t know, man.” I dragged my eyes away from Ava and her purple

dress. “I’m not much of a babysitter.”

“Good thing she’s not a baby,” he quipped. “Look, I know this is a big

ask, but you’re the only person I trust not to, you know—”

“Fuck her?”

“Jesus, dude.” Josh looked like he’d swallowed a lemon. “Don’t use that

word in relation to my sister. It’s gross. But…yeah. I mean, we both know

she’s not your type, and even if she was, you’d never go there.”

A sliver of guilt flashed through me when I remembered my errant

fantasy a few moments ago. It was time for me to call up someone from my

roster if I was fantasizing about Ava Chen, of all people.

“But it’s more than that,” Josh continued. “You’re the only person I trust,

period, outside of my family. And you know how worried I am about Ava,

especially considering this whole thing with her ex.” His face darkened. “I

swear, if I ever see that fucker…”

I sighed. “I’ll take care of her. Don’t worry.”

I was going to regret this. I knew it, yet here I was, signing my life away,

at least for the next year. I didn’t make a lot of promises, but when I did, I

kept them. Committed myself to them. Which meant if I promised Josh I’d

look after Ava, I’d fucking look after her, and I’m not talking about a text

Check-in every two weeks.

She was under my protection now.

A familiar, creeping sense of doom slithered around my neck and

squeezed, tighter and tighter, until oxygen ran scarce and tiny lights danced

before my eyes.

Blood. Everywhere.

On my hands. On my clothes. Splattered over the cream rug she’d loved

so much—the one she’d brought back from Europe on her last trip abroad.

An inane urge to scrub the rug and tear those bloody particles out of the

soft wool fibers, one by one, gripped me, but I couldn’t move.

All I could do was stand and stare at the grotesque scene in my living

room—a room which, not half an hour earlier, had burst with warmth and

laughter and love. Now it was cold and lifeless, like the three bodies at my

feet.

I blinked, and they disappeared—the lights, the memories, the noose

around my neck.

But they’d come back. They always did.

“…You’re the best,” Josh was saying, his grin back now that I’d agreed

to take on a role I had no business taking. I wasn’t a protector; I was a

destroyer. I broke hearts, crushed business opponents, and didn’t care about

the aftermath. If someone was stupid enough to fall for me or cross me—two

things I warned people never, ever to do—they had it coming. “I’ll bring you

back—fuck, I don’t know. Coffee. Chocolate. Pounds of whatever is good

down there. And I owe you a big, fat favor in the future.”

I forced a smile. Before I could respond, my phone rang, and I held up a

finger. “Be right back. I have to take this.”

“Take your time, man.” Josh was already distracted by the blonde and

brunette who’d been all over me earlier and who found a much more willing

audience in my best friend. By the time I stepped into the backyard and

answered my call, they had their hands beneath his shirt.

“Дядько,” I said, using the Ukrainian term for uncle.

“Alex.” My uncle’s voice rasped over the line, scratchy from decades of

cigarettes and the wear and tear of life. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“No.” I glanced through the sliding glass door at the revelry inside. Josh

had lived in the same rambling, two-story house off Thayer’s campus since

undergrad. We’d roomed together until I graduated and moved to D.C. proper

to be closer to my office—and to get away from the hordes of shrieking,

drunken college students that paraded through campus and the surrounding neighborhoods every night.

Everyone had turned out for Josh’s farewell party, and by everyone, I

mean half the population of Hazelburg, Maryland, where Thayer was located.

He was a town favorite, and I imagined people would miss his parties as

much as they missed Josh himself.

For someone who always claimed to be drowning in schoolwork, he

found a lot of time for drinking and sex. Not that it hurt his academic

performance. The bastard had a 4.0 GPA.

“Did you take care of the problem?” my uncle asked.

I heard a drawer open and close, followed by the faint click of a lighter.

I’d urged him to quit smoking countless times, but he always brushed me off.

Old habits die hard; old, bad habits even more so, and Ivan Volkov had

reached the age where he couldn’t be bothered.

“Not yet.” The moon hung low in the sky, casting ribbons of light that

snaked through the otherwise-inky darkness of the backyard. Light and

shadow. Two halves of the same coin. “I will. We’re close.”

To justice. Vengeance. Salvation.

For sixteen years, the pursuit of those three things had consumed me.

They were my every waking thought, my every dream and nightmare. My

reason for living. Even in situations when I’d been distracted by something

else—the chess-play of corporate politics, the fleeting pleasure of burying

myself into the tight, warm heat of a willing body—they’d lurked in my

consciousness, driving me to greater heights of ambition and ruthlessness.

Sixteen years might seem like a long time, but I specialize in the long

game. It doesn’t matter how many years I have to wait as long as the end is

worth it.

And the end of the man who had destroyed my family? It would be

glorious.

“Good.” My uncle coughed, and my lips pinched.

One of these days, I’d convince him to quit smoking. Life had driven any

sentimentality out of me years ago, but Ivan was my only living relative. He

took me in, raised me as his own, and stuck by me through every thorny twist

of my path toward revenge, so I owed him that much, at least.

“Your family will be at peace soon,” he said.

Perhaps. Whether the same could be said of me…well, that was a

question for another day.

“There’s a board meeting next week,” I said, switching topics. “I’ll be intown for the day.” My uncle was the official CEO of Archer Group, the real

estate development company he’d founded a decade ago with my guidance.

I’d had a knack for business even as a teenager.

Archer Group headquarters called Philadelphia home, but it had offices

across the country. Since I was based in D.C., that was the company’s real

power center, though board meetings still took place at HQ.

I could’ve taken over as CEO years ago, per my uncle’s and my

agreement when we started the company, but the COO position offered me

more flexibility until I finished what I had to do. Besides, everyone knew I

was the power behind the throne, anyway. Ivan was a decent CEO, but it was

my strategies that had catapulted it into the Fortune 500 after a mere decade.

My uncle and I talked business for a while longer before I hung up and

rejoined the party. The gears in my head cranked into motion as I took stock

of the evening’s developments—my promise to Josh, my uncle’s nudge about

the minor hiccup in my revenge plan. Somehow, I had to reconcile the two

over the next year.

I mentally rearranged the pieces of my life into different patterns, playing

each scenario out to the end, weighing the pros and cons, and examining

them for potential cracks until I reached a decision.

“Everything good?” Josh called out from the couch, where the blonde

kissed his neck while the brunette’s hands became intimately acquainted with

the region below his belt.

“Yes.” To my irritation, my gaze strayed toward Ava again. She was in

the kitchen, fussing over the half-eaten cake from Crumble & Bake. Her

tanned skin glowed with a faint sheen of sweat from dancing, and her raven

hair billowed around her face in a soft cloud. “About your earlier request…I

have an idea.”

AVA

“I HOPE YOU APPRECIATE WHAT A GOOD FRIEND I AM.” JULES YAWNED AS WE

tromped across our front yard toward Josh’s house. “For waking up at the

butt crack of dawn to help your brother clean and pack when I don’t even like

the dude.”

I laughed and looped my arm through hers. “I’ll buy you a caramel

mocha from The Morning Roast after. Promise.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She paused. “Large, with extra crunch toppings?”

“You know it.”

“Fine.” Jules yawned again. “That makes it somewhat worth it.”

Jules and Josh were not fans of each other. I’d always found that strange,

considering they were so similar. They were both outgoing, charming, smart

as hell, and total heartbreakers.

Jules was a human version of Jessica Rabbit, all shiny red hair, creamy

skin, and curves that made me look at my body with a sigh. Overall, I was

happy with how I looked, but as a member of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee,

I did wish for an extra cup size or two without having to resort to plastic

surgery. Ironically, Jules sometimes complained about her double-Ds, saying

they were hard on her back. There should be a Venmo for breasts that allows

women to send and receive cup sizes with the press of a button.

Like I said, I was happy with how I looked most of the time, but no one—

not even supermodels or movie stars—was immune from insecurities.

Besides her grievances with her breasts, Jules was the most confident

person I’d ever met—aside from my brother, whose ego was so large it could

house the entire East Coast of the United States with room left over for

Texas. I suppose he had reason to be, considering he’d always been thegolden boy, and though it pained me to admit it because he was my brother,

he wasn’t bad-looking either. Six-foot-two with thick black hair and razor-

sharp bone structure, which he never let anyone forget. I was convinced Josh

would commission a sculpture of himself and display it on his front lawn if

he could.

Jules and Josh never divulged why they disliked each other so much, but I

suspected it might be because they saw too much of themselves in each other.

The front door was already open, so we didn’t bother knocking.

To my surprise, the house was pretty clean. Josh had put most of his

furniture into storage last week, and the only things left to pack were the

couch (which someone would pick up later), a few stray kitchen items, and

the weird abstract painting in the living room.

“Josh?” My voice echoed in the large, empty space while Jules sat on the

ground and pulled her knees to her chest with a grumpy expression. If you

couldn’t tell, she wasn’t a morning person. “Where are you?”

“Bedroom!” I heard a loud thump upstairs, followed by a muffled curse.

A minute later, Josh came down holding a large cardboard box. “Shit I’m

donating,” he explained, setting it on the kitchen counter.

I wrinkled my nose. “Put a shirt on. Please.”

“And deprive JR of her morning eye candy?” Josh smirked. “I’m not that

cruel.”

I wasn’t the only one who thought Jules looked like Jessica Rabbit; Josh

always called her by the cartoon character’s initials, which pissed her off to

no end. Then again, everything Josh did pissed her off.

Jules lifted her head and scowled. “Please. I’ve seen better abs at the

campus gym. Listen to Ava and put a shirt on before I lose last night’s

dinner.”

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Josh drawled, slapping a hand

against his six-pack. “The only thing you’ll be losing is—”

“Okay.” I slashed my arms through the air, cutting off the conversation

before it went down a path that’d scar me for life. “Enough chitchat. Let’s get

you packed up before you miss your flight.”

Fortunately, Josh and Jules behaved for the next hour and a half while we

packed up the remaining items and loaded them into the SUV he’d rented for

the move.

Soon, the only thing left to pack was the painting.

“Tell me you’re donating this too.” I eyed the massive canvas. “I don’teven know how it’ll fit in the car.”

“Nah, leave it there. He likes it.”

“Who?” As far as I knew, no one had taken over Josh’s lease yet. But it

was still July, and I expected the place to go fast closer to the start of the

semester.

“You’ll see.”

I didn’t like the smile on his face. At all.

The low purr of a powerful engine filled the air.

Josh’s smile broadened. “As a matter of fact, you’ll see right now.”

Jules and I exchanged glances before we ran to the front door and pushed

it open.

A familiar Aston Martin idled in the driveway. The door opened, and

Alex stepped out, looking more gorgeous than any human had the right to

look in jeans, aviators, and a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled

up.

He took off his sunglasses and assessed us with cool eyes, unfazed by the

mini welcoming party on the front steps.

Only I didn’t feel particularly welcoming.

“But…but that’s Alex,” I stammered.

“Looking miiiighty fine, might I add.” Jules nudged me in the ribs, and I

scowled in response. Who cared if he was hot? He was a jerk.

“Hey, dude.” Josh slapped hands with Alex. “Where’s your stuff?”

“Moving company’s bringing it later.” Alex side-eyed Jules, who

assessed him the way one would a shiny new toy. Besides Josh, Alex was the

only guy who’d never fallen for her charms, which intrigued her more. She

was a sucker for a good challenge, probably because most guys fell at her feet

before she even opened her mouth.

“Wait.” I put my hand up, my heart slamming a panicked rhythm against

my ribcage. “Moving comp—you’re not moving here.”

“Actually, he is.” Josh slung an arm over my shoulder, his eyes twinkling

with mischief. “Meet your new neighbor, little sis.”

My eyes ping-ponged between him and Alex, who couldn’t look more

bored by the conversation.

“No.” There was only one reason Alex Volkov would leave his cushy

D.C. penthouse and move back to Hazelburg, and I’d bet my new camera it

had nothing to do with nostalgia for his college days. “No, no, no, no, no.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.”I glared at my brother. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m twenty-two years

old.”

“Who said anything about babysitting?” Josh shrugged. “He’s looking

after the house for me. I’m moving back in when I return next year, so it

makes sense.”

“Bullshit. You want him to keep an eye on me.”

“That’s a bonus.” Josh’s face softened. “It doesn’t hurt to have someone

you can rely on when I’m not here, especially given this whole thing with

Liam.”

I winced at the mention of my ex. Liam had been blowing up my phone

since I caught him cheating on me a month and a half ago. He’d even shown

up at the gallery where I worked a few times, begging for another chance. I

wasn’t devastated by our breakup. We’d dated for a few months, and I hadn’t

been in love with him or anything, but the situation had brought all my

insecurities to the surface. Josh worried about Liam getting out of hand, but

let’s be honest, Liam was a Brooks-Brother-wearing, polo-playing trust fund

baby. I doubted he’d do anything that would mess up his perfectly gelled

hair.

I was more embarrassed I’d dated him than concerned about my physical

safety.

“I can handle myself.” I pulled Josh’s arm off my shoulder. “Call the

moving company and cancel,” I told Alex, who’d been ignoring us and

scrolling through his phone this whole time. “You do not need to move here.

Don’t you have…stuff to do in D.C.?”

“D.C. is a twenty-minute drive,” he said without looking up.

“For the record, I am totally in favor of you moving in next door,” Jules

piped up. Traitor. “Do you mow the lawn shirtless? If not, I highly

recommend it.”

Alex and Josh frowned at the same time.

“You.” Josh pointed at her. “Do not pull any of your shenanigans while

I’m gone.”

“It’s cute how you think you have a say in my life.”

“I don’t give a shit what you do with your life. It’s when you drag Ava

into your harebrained schemes I’m concerned.”

“Newsflash: you don’t have a say in Ava’s life either. She’s her own

person.”“She’s my best friend—”

“Remember when you almost got her arrested—”

“You have to let that go. That was three years ago—”

“People!” I pressed my fingers to my temple. Dealing with Josh and Jules

was like dealing with children. “Stop arguing. Josh, stop trying to control my

life. Jules, stop provoking him.”

Josh crossed his arms over his chest. “As your big brother, it’s my job to

protect you and to appoint someone to fill in for me when I’m not here.”

I grew up with him; I recognized that look on his face. He wasn’t

budging.

“I assume Alex is the fill-in?” I asked in a resigned tone.

“I’m not a ‘fill-in’ anything,” Alex said icily. “Don’t do anything stupid,

and we’ll be fine.”

I groaned and covered my face with my hands.

This was going to be a long year.