At First Hate (Coastal Chronicles)

“Hear me out. A friend of a friend said they talked to their friend who knows someone in the law school.”

I eyed her dubiously. “The law school?”

“Yeah. I don’t know. Just that this was the grad party to go to on Halloween weekend.”

“Uh-huh.”

My gaze swept the room.

When I’d gotten the full ride at Harvard, I’d been hesitant. I knew only one other person who was at Harvard right now, and he was quite literally the last person that I wanted to see. But I looked up the numbers. There were more than twenty thousand grad students on Harvard’s campus. What was the likelihood that I’d run into him here? A year later, and I still hadn’t seen him, but I hadn’t gone to any law school parties either. If Misty had told me that was where we were going, I probably would have declined. Or at least found another party that would have been equally fun and not given me the problem of running into… him.

“Why do you suddenly look like a deer caught in headlights?” Misty asked. “Is the drink shitty?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said quickly. “The drink is shitty.” I finished it in another gulp. “I need a second, and then we should go dance.”

That was the hardest transition to Harvard—no dance. I still sometimes took classes at a local studio, but it wasn’t the same. Not by a long shot.

Misty crossed her arms. “You’re a shit liar.”

I laughed. “That is very true. So, I have this old friend. Erm, flame? I don’t know. This guy I used to know is in the law school.”

“Old friend you used to fuck?” Misty asked with a grin.

“Sort of,” I said uncertainly. “Anyway, with my luck, I’ll probably run into him.”

“All the better! You can get over Mr. Serenade You Out Your Window!”

“No!” I said quickly. Then, more calmly, “No. Uh, no. That’s not what I’m interested in.”

“Okay,” Misty said, holding her hands up. “Avoid old flame. Got it.”

Despite my anxiety, we ended up having a great time. We drank until I knew I was going to regret it in the morning and danced in our heels until I wanted to claw them off my feet. The law party had plenty of hot, available guys who were more than happy to lavish us PhDs with attention.

It was fun.

“Neuroscience?” the guy asked.

He’d told me his name, but I’d already forgotten it. He had me leaned up against a wall outside. He was cute with floppy blond hair and brown eyes. He was dressed like Captain America. He didn’t quite fit the bill, but who cared?

“Yeah. I’m researching dementia.”

“That’s brilliant,” he said with a grin.

Oh, and he had an accent. Australian. Swoon. Made up for the not-quite Captain America. In fact, it made it all the funnier. Or maybe that was the alcohol.

Then, he was kissing me. One minute, my major. Next minute, making out.

He was an okay kisser. Not my worst. Not my best. But considering this was the entire reason I was out tonight, I decided not to complain. I didn’t need to marry this Australian Captain America. Just have a little fun.

Suddenly, the guy was ripped away from me. I protested, and he cursed violently.

“What the hell, mate?” he snapped.

And then I saw who was standing over him—towering over him. My blood went cold. Fuck.

“Derek!” I yelled. “What the fuck are you doing?”

He shoved the other guy away. “Go.”

Derek had a good six or seven inches on him and a hundred pounds of muscle. He went.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

He turned the full force of his attention on me. I didn’t back down. Not an inch. I was drunk enough for my anger to want to blow.

“Hey, Minivan,” he said easily, as if no time had passed at all. That same perfectly pouty smirk on his lips. That same eat you alive look. The same hint of desire.

“Go fuck yourself.”

I pushed past him, but only made it a few steps before Derek wrapped a hand around my arm and pulled me to a stop. I swatted at him, but he didn’t let go.

“You’re drunk. That guy is a creep. What were you thinking?” he demanded.

“That guy was nice.”

“He’s a 1L, and he’s come on to half of the school. He’s not nice. He’s one step away from sexual assault.”

I gaped at him. “Then turn him in.”

“With what proof and what witnesses, Marley? As much as I’d love to do that, no one wants to jeopardize their position in law school to come forward. Most of us watch him and scare him away. When I saw him with you…” He looked ready to put his hand through the wall. The last time I’d seen him look like that, he’d had Chuck Henderson against a wall because he’d touched Amelia. And now, he was protecting me.