LOGINHe’s the sweetheart of St. James. I’m just the nerd that no one notices. Jordan Arthur stands for everything I hate – his perfect smile, his wavy brown hair, the way the room hums with intensity the second he walks in. And worst of all? He doesn’t even know I exist. But after his cheating girlfriend forces us into each other's lives, I realize the boy every student of St. James and St. John fawns over is fighting his own demons and holding back secrets. He’s scared. He’s sad. He’s alone. Jordan is supposed to like girls. At least, that’s what everyone believes, including him. But the way his eyes rake through me feels otherwise. Inside his cozy mansion, I am the air that he cannot get enough of. But outside, I am Nobody. The nerd he doesn’t associate with. The one his friends laugh at. No one can know. No one must know. But how long can something this intense survive in the dark before it ends us both?
View MoreIt was dark. We were seated around a table at the bar, a stone’s throw from our campus, our faces barely visible. It was a good day, and we were as high as the clouds.
“Heather,” my friend, James said, snapping his fingers to a game we’d been playing for a while now. “She’s the hottest girl in school. Everyone knows that. Right, Marcus?”
"Right," I said, used to agreeing with whatever James said. I wrapped my hands around my glass and took a long swig. The alcohol burned my throat, travelling down until I felt its heat pool at the pit of my stomach.
It pressed hard on my bladder, threatening to burst through right then.
“I’ll be back,” I muttered, getting on my feet. “Toilet.”
The group barely realized I'd left. I got it. Heather was hot. Every man in St. John's desperately wanted to be in her good books. But to me, Heather was just… I don’t know… a regular woman.
The queue to the bathroom was long. I didn’t think my bladder could wait for the crowd gathered out front. Taking a detour, I took the back door out of the bar. That was when I heard it.
I would recognize that voice anywhere.
"You sucked his dick, too?” He was saying, with the tone of someone who didn't care much. Come on! Tell me, Heather."
"You've got to be kidding me!" Heather responded breathily. Talk about the devil. "It was a mistake, Jordan. And I'm sorry for that. But can you really blame me? You have a reputation in St. James.”
St. James was our sister school. While St. John took the courses in arts and humanities, St. James took the sciences and engineering courses. Heather and Jordan were the king and queen of both campuses.
I should have gone back inside to my friends. This was none of my business. Yet, I moved into the dark, following the sound of their voice, and hoping the stones crunching underneath my feet weren’t too loud.
"You knew that before you decided to date me,” Jordan countered, stupidly by the way. Who the hell said that to his girlfriend? Well, what would I know? I’d never dated anyone.
"And you never see me fucking a professor,” he continued. “That was really low, Heather. Even for you."
“He came on to me. What was I supposed to do?”
“Close your fucking legs?” It sounded like a tired suggestion. “Heather, I came here to party with my friends, but you’re making that hard to do. Can you just… get out of my way or something?”
“Will you pick up my calls or text me back?”
“I’ll do whatever the hell I want to do.”
I didn’t know he’d moved. I heard him too late. It all happened in the blink of an eye. One minute, he still sounded quite a distance from me, and the next, he was right in front of me.
I swallowed as Jordan Arthur easily towered over me, his 6 ft - self blocking the night's air. For a minute, it felt like the earth had run out of oxygen. He made me nervous.
So nervous.
“Get your earful?” He was mad.
But despite that, the only thing I could focus on was his voice. Did people sound that way?
“I…I was just…”
"Of course," he barked out a laugh. "You want a piece out of her, too? She's there. Have at it. After all, she's great in bed."
Heather heard that, and she walked out from the shadows. She didn’t look like someone who was just apologizing. “What the hell is wrong with you, Jordan? I told you I was sorry. And I definitely do not go for losers and nerds.”
“That Professor was a loser too,” Jordan responded without taking his gaze off me. “Don’t you think that kind of negates your words?”
“Jordan….”
“I don’t even know why I bother with you.”
“Jordan!”
“Have at her!” His shoulders hit mine as he walked past, and I staggered, pushed a few feet backwards. My glasses skidded to the ground just as my knee gave way, and I took in my first shaky breath since Jordan saw me.
He had no idea who I was, but I knew him. Everyone knew him. The smartest kid in St. James’ medical school. The hottest playboy and the rich basketball player.
I was still on the floor, trying to search for my glasses, when the skidding of tyres suddenly echoed in the parking lot. The driver had lost control and was heading towards me. I tried to move fast. I needed to reach for my glasses.
“What the fuck!” Jordan yelled from somewhere behind me, “Get out of there! Leave!”
It was the last thing I heard before the car got too close, hitting my side, before my lost glasses broke under the tyres.
Before the world turned black.
***
The next time I opened my eyes, I was staring straight at James, who was looking down at me like he was studying the evolution of man.
“Man, Marcus!” he sighed, holding on to the bars around the bed. “God, you scared me. When I saw you on the ground… God!”
“What happened?” I whispered, trying to sit up. A sharp pain jolted up my body so suddenly that I dropped back into the bed.
“Be careful,” James murmured. “The doctor said you should try not to move around till you’re at least healed. But what the fuck were you doing out in the parking lot? You were supposed to be with us. We were searching for you after the game and…”
I remembered then. The accident. My glasses.
I reached for it out of habit, patting the nightstand next to the bed. James shook his head. "It was destroyed in the accident. I'm just grateful that nothing happened to you."
“What about him?” I really needed water.
“Who?” James narrowed his gaze.
“There was someone…”
“Heather? Of course, she’s in another hospital. Jordan has been going out of his mind trying to ensure she’s fine. She took the brunt of the accident.”
That made no sense.
"I saw her,” James continued, like he could see the confusion in my eyes. “She was lying on the floor, and the paramedics were all around her."
“The car didn’t even go in her direction.”
“Are you certain?”
I was, but it didn’t matter. I sat up slowly. “How long have I been out for?”
“A couple of hours. It’s almost evening.”
“Did … did anyone come for me?”
James scrunched his face in a little frown. “No. Just me and the rest of the group. You do not have other friends, remember?”
"Right," I muttered, lying back on the bed. Why the hell did I think Jordan of all people would come see me at the hospital?
The Arthurs tended to host a lot of dinners when the family was about launching out something new. And now that I was back from Spain with reports underway and a team about taking its first power step, my father was elated. Just him, from the looks of it.It was the reason we were gathered around the huge banquet table out in the gardens, when I would rather be at JAR, getting up to date with the administration and sales. I picked up the delicate stem of the wine glass, swirling its contents before taking a slow sip.There was chatter around me, mild but present. It was like the slow buzzing of bees. After a while, it got too much for anyone to handle. My father had yet to speak to me since I returned, but after the call we had that morning, before the flight, I doubted there was anything left to be said.But knowing Marv Arthur, there was another ace card. He tended to have a million of those. I was learning from him."Is the steak not to your liking, honey?" My mom whispered next t
It wasn’t the polite, uncertain kiss we had shared last night, when I was scared and doubted a lot of things; when I didn’t know what to do. It was desperate, like I wanted to feel every inch of me, even if I didn’t know what that meant. Marcus’ mouth was cold, and I had to be going insane because I thought he still tasted of the juice he’d had earlier today. I pushed my knees between Marcus’ thighs, crowding him in the way I knew how. My fingers tangled into the short waves of his grey hair, feeling the soft tresses slide against them, He let out a low, ragged sound into my mouth and his hands came up to grip my shirt, pulling us closer until there was no space or air left between us. The glass behind him must be freezing, but his body was as hot as a furnace. He parted his lips, letting me kiss him. My hands slipped down Marcus' throat, and I pressed softly before tracing a path on his collarbones, through the line of his polo shirt, before slipping underneath the fabric to touch
The instruction had come out of the blue, surprising even me. But for some reason, I wanted to see him do it. I wanted to see the magic, the awe that would appear in his eyes when he did, because I knew Marcus.He was in tune with every inch of his emotions, and it was one of the things I was hooked on him in ways that even I couldn't explain. It was beautiful: his honesty, his openness, his need to not hide behind plays and plots like I had been used to all my life. "We're definitely not supposed to touch the onyx," Marcus said, but I knew he wanted to. I could see it in the way his feet stood on the tips of their toes, like it was all they wanted to do. I could sense the urge in him. He needed to realize that he wouldn't get into any trouble for it.Not as long as I was here with him. “It’s just us here, Marcus,” I murmured, settling closer to him. “And besides, nothing is going to happen. You are careful, and everything always works out in the end.”Marcus hesitated, but in anoth
It wasn’t the polite, uncertain kiss we had shared last night, when I was scared and doubted a lot of things; when I didn’t know what to do. It was desperate, like I wanted to feel every inch of me, even if I didn’t know what that meant. Marcus’ mouth was cold, and I had to be going insane because I thought he still tasted of the juice he’d had earlier today. I pushed my knees between Marcus’ thighs, crowding him in the way I knew how. My fingers tangled into the short waves of his grey hair, feeling the soft tresses slide against them, He let out a low, ragged sound into my mouth and his hands came up to grip my shirt, pulling us closer until there was no space or air left between us. The glass behind him must be freezing, but his body was as hot as a furnace. He parted his lips, letting me kiss him. My hands slipped down Marcus' throat, and I pressed softly before tracing a path on his collarbones, through the line of his polo shirt, before slipping underneath the fabric to touch
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