Convict Me (Broken Heroes 1)

Hero smiles, and it’s real, heartfelt even—it takes my breath away.

“I don’t want to see you just between the four walls of that room, Elyse. I want to see you…like really see you.”

His words vibrate through me, frightening me and exciting me all at once. I’ve never dated an honest to god man so I’m not sure what’s expected of me. Do I agree? Disagree? Where I come from, women do as they’re told, when they’re told. Choices are not something given to us, so having a choice in this matter confuses me.

After a minute of eerie silence and intense staring, I force my legs to move forward. I step around him, fully expecting him to stop me, but he doesn’t. I walk away faster than usual, knowing he’s watching me leave. I can feel his eyes inside me, rattling me to the core.

I make it back to my dorm in record time. Taking two steps at a time, I turn and all but run to my door. I unlock it and walk inside before shutting it behind me, my lungs expanding for the first time in hours as I suck in precious oxygen.

“Hey you.”

A loud shriek escapes my throat before I see Tasha, my roommate, sitting on her bed.

She raises an eyebrow.

“Sorry. I didn’t see you there,” I manage to get out, my hand clutching my chest. If I make it through this day without dying, I’ll be shocked.

“Are you okay? You look like you might’ve seen Channing Tatum running around campus,” she jokes.

Tasha knows about my family, so she understands me better than anyone here. But that doesn’t mean I want to tell her about Hero.

“I’m fine. I was just in a rush to get back here,” I say, knowing Tasha can see straight through my lie. She doesn’t let me sugarcoat anything and lying in general is hard for me.

She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t push. Thank goodness for that.

“Tonight, I’m taking little miss innocent to her first college party.”

I blink slow, trying to comprehend what I just heard. “Did you just say party? Like the kind with drinking and boys?”

Tasha nods, a grin on her face.

“Yeah, I think I’ll just stay here where it’s safe.”

Tasha stands with both hands on her hips, giving a look that says oh no you don’t.

Compared to Tasha, I don’t stand a chance. She’s beauty and brains—a blonde bombshell with killer legs and even better body, so when she smiles, it seems like the sun is coming out. She shines light on even the worst moments, and from what I’ve seen, makes the best of everything.

“Safe?” She giggles. “Our dorm room isn’t safe, girlfriend. If you won’t come with me, I’ll just bring the party to you.”

I move away from the door and carry my bag over to the couch. Our dorm is small, with a tiny little kitchen and even smaller bathroom. It’s a tight living space, but it’s home, and it’s mine…well, and Tasha’s.

“No…” I shake my head. “I’ll just go with you. If I don’t and something happens to you, I’ll feel guilty.”

Tasha moves from where she’s standing and comes over by me.

In her eyes, I see concern, and truthfully, I don’t want to address it.

“You need this, Elyse. You really do. Maybe you don’t think so, but it’s important. All your life, you’ve lived under the rules of your father. Now, there are no rules. Now, you can do what and who you want.” She winks.

I purse my lips. “I am not going to sleep with anyone. Not now, tomorrow, or ever. No one is interested in me.” Except Hero. But I don’t say that part out loud. The less Tasha knows about him, the better.

“No one is interested because they don’t even know you exist. Put on a sexy outfit, let me do your makeup and hair, and we can bring the sex to you.”

I cringe at the word. “No, Tasha. I don’t want sex.” Even saying it feels weird. Sex in my family is something you don’t do ’til you’re married—and you definitely don’t sleep with anyone but your husband after that.

My father would probably have a stroke if he found out what took place behind the scenes at college.

“Everyone wants sex, and I mean everyone,” she whispers, dragging me toward her closet.

There are various dresses and shirts hanging up, but none of them look appealing to me. I’m not the partying type. I’m lucky to even be able to wear jeans instead of the floor-length dresses my father required since the day I started walking.

Tasha sifts through the clothing before pulling out a pair of black flats, black skinny jeans, and a white flowy blouse that will show off my boobs.

“I can’t wear that,” I hiss.

Tasha raises a brow, giving me a look that says put it on or else. After standing there for a few minutes with my arms crossed over my chest, I give in.