At First Hate (Coastal Chronicles)

Because without thinking, I crossed the divide and pressed my mouth to his. For a second, he did nothing. He sat there in apparent shock. Then, he moved with all the careful assurance of Derek Ballentine. His hands slid up into my hair, and he dragged me closer. We kissed with practiced ease. Chocolate still lingered between us, and it was sweet and decadent.

Everything superheated at that touch. Desire pooling in my core, sending fire down my spine. I wanted to crawl across the car and get our bodies closer together. To feel every inch of skin against skin. To feel him.

Then, slowly, ever so slowly, Derek pulled back and looked down at me. “Marley, I—”

“Do you want to come inside?” I interrupted.

He stiffened, and his eyes swept my body, landing on my lips and then back up to my eyes. I could see the struggle. The one that said he wanted what I was offering as badly as I did right now.

Finally, he pulled back. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

I jerked back into my seat, heat hitting my cheeks. “Oh.”

“You’re drunk, and I don’t want to take advantage of you. I don’t want you to regret anything in the morning.”

“Oh how things have changed,” I muttered and unbuckled my seat belt.

“Mars,” he groaned.

“It’s fine.”

He grabbed my arm before I could get out of his shiny, new Beamer. “Don’t be mad at me.”

“You’re right. This is a bad idea. Thanks for reminding me.”

He groaned and unbuckled his seat belt, following me out of the car. “Marley, you can barely walk. How can you be this mad at me when you’re struggling to get inside?”

“Being mad at you is easy,” I told him, too drunk to think clearly.

He grabbed the keys out of my hand and opened the door. Then, he took my face in his hands and kissed me softly. My eyes were still closed when he planted a tiny kiss on my nose and dropped the keys back into my hand.

“Don’t hate me in the morning when you sober up.”

Then, he turned and walked back to his car. I watched him, my body all needy and my brain all confused.

When had Derek Ballentine become a gentleman?

Part III

17

Harvard

October 27, 2012

“Is he still singing?” Misty groaned, flopping back on her bed in the off-campus apartment we’d scrounged up from housing.

“He is.” I peered out my window and saw the hot guy I’d dated for, like, a whole month, trying to win me back by pulling a move from an ’80s movie and singing to me from the street. I found it desperate and annoying, just like him. He might have been hot, but he wasn’t worth my time. That was becoming more and more blatantly obvious.

“Let’s go out and get drunk instead. I heard there’s a Halloween grad party tonight.”

There had been a grad party every night since I’d gotten to Harvard for my PhD a year earlier. I was once again on full scholarship for my PhD in neuroscience, working as a research assistant for the most distinguished professor. It was a lot of work and more than rewarding. Plus, Misty was in my program, and we’d instantly bonded, deciding to move in together for our second year.

“I have to be in the lab in the morning,” I complained.

“But it’s your birthday weekend!’

“And we celebrated last night and last weekend when my brother was in town.”

Misty stuck out her bottom lip. “Hurricane Sandy will be here on Monday. We need to celebrate before it hits.” I was still wavering, but she continued, “Do you want to listen to that all night or go to a party?”

“Point taken.”

It wasn’t hard to convince me to go out. I had a Halloween costume ready, and I wasn’t going to get to wear it on Halloween with a hurricane blowing up the east coast. So, I’d just wear it tonight. It was cliché, but I’d gone with a French maid. My skirt barely covered my ass. My breasts barely fit into the square top. My waist was microscopic since I’d worked my ass off my first year here. Misty had thigh-high tights that I paired with black high heels. She wore a Playboy bunny costume complete with ears and a tail.

We took the back way out to bypass my ex and headed over to the party. Half the people weren’t wearing a costume at all. Either too cool or too nerdy to get dressed up. But my birthday was so close to Halloween that I’d always loved it. It had been a part of my life for so long that I couldn’t imagine it any other way.

“So, how did you find out about this party?” I asked, taking the punch out of her hand and downing half of the contents in one big gulp.