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ISBN: 978-1-955887-08-3

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Contents

Enforcer

1. Penny
2. Griff

3. Penny

4. Griff

5. Penny

6. Griff

7. Penny

8. Griff

9. Penny

10. Griff

11. Penny

12. Griff

13. Penny
14. Griff

15. Penny

16. Griff

17. Penny

18. Griff

19. Penny

20. Griff

21. Penny

22. Griff

23. Penny

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25. Penny

26. Griff
27. Penny

28. Griff
29. Penny

30. Griff
31. Penny

32. Griff
33. Penny

34. Griff
35. Penny
36. Griff
37. Penny

What's next...
About the Author

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 Enforcer
(noun) a player whose role is to protect
teammates or dominate an area of the
field of play

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 Penny

WHEN MY FIST CONNECTS with the bag and the impact

vibrates in my shoulder, I smile and punch again. In front of
me, the punching bag barely moves. That wipes the grin off
my lips.
Layla is our kickboxing instructor today. She splits the
classes with Tanya. I like the speed of Tanya’s lessons, but
Lacey focuses on form and power.
I adjust my grip in my gloves and tune back into Layla’s
instructions. The music in the kickboxing room is loud, but
her voice booms over the speaker. Between the pulsing
beats and her constant encouragement, the noise drowns
out the chaos in my head. I smile again. Thank God.
I spend the next half hour covered in sweat. By the time
we start our cooldown, flyaway strands surround my face,
and I’m flushed—not the pretty flush that brunettes and
blondes get, though. Thanks to my red hair, flushing is a
full-body affair for me.
 After Layla thanks us for coming, I head to my bag and
grab my towel.
She joins me. “Great job today, Penny. Your form has really
improved.” 
“Thank you.” I started taking kickboxing in December,
after… Just after.
“I was wondering if you’d ever considered teaching a
class.” She uses her wristbands to mop her brow.
I shake my head. “I couldn’t—"
“There’s a course over in Scranton that will teach you
about being an instructor. If you’re interested, I could—”
I raise my hand. “Thank you for thinking of me, Layla. I’m
flattered. But I can’t right now.”
Her brows drop.
I think fast. “I’m at the university and about to start spring
semester. I don’t think I can commit to that kind of addition
to my schedule.” It’s a lame excuse, but there’s no way I
can take a kickboxing-instructor course—not now. Not ever.
She smiles, patting my arm. “I totally understand. If you
reconsider in the summer, let me know. I’ll get you the
information. I think you could be good.”
I wave her off, trying to laugh, but it sounds too high
pitched. “Thanks, but I only signed up to kickbox because it
was the closest thing to a self-defense class you have here.”
My mother has been coming to this gym my whole life, and
when I was old enough, she added me to her membership. I
used to take aerobics and yoga classes here. But after…
 I inhale and blow it out slowly, as my therapist showed
me. She said when humans experience panic, it’s a fight-or-
flight reflex. Adrenaline makes us hold our breath in
preparation to run or fight. To convince our bodies that we
aren’t in danger, we can regulate our breathing.
Layla throws her boxing gloves into her gym bag. “The
only place in town that might be able to help you is Parker
Martial Arts and Fitness.” She rubs the back of her neck.
“Not many girls go there, though. It’s pretty heavy on the
testosterone.”
“They teach self-defense?” I wrap my arms around myself.
“Sure. Well, they teach boxing, muay thai, and Brazilian
jiu-jitsu. I don’t know what else.” She shrugs. “My boyfriend
works out there.”
“Parker’s Gym.”
“Yeah. The one on Hanover. You know the place?”
Everyone knows the place. That gym has been part of
Chesterboro’s landscape for thirty years. It was started by
boxing champion Charles “The Spider” Parker after he
retired from the ring. I’m not sure, but I think he trained
some important boxers in the nineties. Somewhere along
the line, he added other fighting styles, I guess. What I am
sure of is that he has three sons—Jacob, Griffin, and Colin—
and their mother died when they were young. Breast
cancer, I think. Griff Parker was in my seventh-grade class.
He was absent the week after she died.
 After Mrs. Parker died, Spider Parker lost control of his
boys. They partied, got in fights, raced cars. I was too young
to remember most of the details, but it was enough to make
every girl-mom in town warn their daughters away from
them. Lots of girls didn’t listen, though. Probably because
the Parker boys are insanely good-looking. Add that touch of
bad boy, and they’re practically irresistible.
They’ve settled down some. Jake got Emma Carlington
pregnant in their senior year. A quick wedding followed, and
their son was born that summer. Jake seems to have settled
into married life. He helps his father run the gym. Colin
started MMA fighting after he graduated from high school.
He’s been on television.
And Griff? Through school, he’s the one who mostly kept
his head down. While his brothers raised hell, Griff was
studious. He still went along with some of the partying, but
the few times anyone had been stupid enough to start
anything with him, he kicked their asses with single-minded
efficiency. I don’t think the beatings themselves discouraged
bullies—it was the quiet, unemotional way he doled them
out. After that, if anyone had a problem with him, they kept
it to themselves or voiced it far enough away from him that
he didn’t find out about it.
We weren’t friends at school. We didn’t exactly have the
same friend groups, and my mother warned me to stay far
away from the Parker boys.
 Until we both ended up at Chesterboro University, I barely
said anything to him. It surprises me he went to college.
Neither of his brothers did. I assumed his family didn’t
prioritize it. But college blurs lines. I pledged Delta Alpha
sorority during my freshman year, like my mom and her
sister before me, and one of my sorority sisters, Violet,
started dating the hockey goalie. At Chesterboro, the
hockey team is gods, and Griff plays hockey.
I didn’t cross his path much. The hockey guys hang out at
Shepherd Hall, and other than the couple of parties I
attended with Violet, I didn’t go there much. I’m an English
and history double major, and he’s in business or finance—
something in the finance building. We didn’t take the same
classes. Anyway, what kind of small talk would I make with
someone I’ve known my entire life but have never really
talked to?
Add in Teddy’s displeasure when I talked with other guys,
and it hadn’t been worth it.
My skin flushes hot even thinking about Teddy. Part of
coming to the gym and taking kickboxing is so I don’t have
to think of him. I grit my teeth.
“Penny?” In front of me, Layla’s watching me funny.
How long have I been standing here and staring at her?
“I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I can give you the number if you need it. To Parker’s
Gym.” She fishes around in her bag and pulls out her phone.
“My boyfriend is there so much. I have it in case I need to
reach him.”
“You don’t have to do that. Griff Parker and I go to school
together.” I attempt a smile. “I know my way there.”
She nods, waves, and heads toward the door. The room is
empty except for me. A flare of fear washes over me, and I
hurry to my bag next to the mirror to gather my things,
keeping my face toward the door so no one can surprise me.
During that scanning, I catch my reflection, and my eyes
snag on the red slash on my cheekbone.
My fingers stop on the zipper of my bag. Tentatively, I run
my index finger along the line. My parents spared no
expenses for the plastic surgeon who sewed that cut, and in
return, it’s a thin line. It shouldn’t leave much of a mark
long-term, but it’s healing slowly. I apply scar cream
religiously, but it’s still angry red against my pale skin.
The girl with the scar staring back at me looks afraid, and
suddenly, I hate her. I loathe her fear and all the decisions
that led her to this place.
Yanking the bag closed, I swing it onto my shoulder. I don’t
want to be like this anymore. I want to be strong, resilient,
independent. Not like I was before—I want to be better than
before.
I glare at my reflection and nod. Time to pay Parker’s gym
a visit.

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 Griff

“WHO PISSED IN YOUR Cheerios today?” Decker asks when

we take a break from beating the shit out of each other on
the mat.
I unstrap my gloves, throw them in my bag, and try to
pretend I wasn’t just trying to kick his ass. “I don’t know
what you mean.” He casts me a “whatever” look, and I blow
out a breath. “Sorry, man. Just a lot on my mind.”
“Shit that’s got you wanting to murder someone?”
I don’t want to weigh Decker down with the argument I
had with my father earlier this week. It’s more of the same—
I want to expand what we offer at the gym, and Dad wants
everything to stay the same as it has been since the
nineties.
Instead of spilling all that, I wave him off. “Just busy,
that’s all. Blowing off some steam.”
“Right.”
 Decker and I went to high school together. He still lives in
Chesterboro and joined his father’s construction company
after we graduated. He probably knows something about
the struggles of working with family. “Hey, you and your old
man ever get into it?”
He furrows his brow.
“I mean, how’s working with him? Do you guys get
along?”
“We have our moments.”
“And?”
“And… he’s my dad. We get over it.” He shrugs. “Why,
things rough with Spider?”
I consider how to explain. “Look around. This place has
changed little since he opened it thirty years ago.”
“You guys keep up on it.” He rubs the back of his neck.
“It’s not run down.”
“Of course not.” All of us take way too much pride in the
place to let it go. I grew up at the gym. It’s a second home
to me. “It’s the same, though. Same rings. Same setup. The
number of bags and mats was the same.” I point to the
back. “Weights, benches… nothing has changed.”
“It’s a great place. Why change something that works?”
Decker voices my father’s argument, almost word for word.
They have a point. For thirty years, the gym has
supported my family. It’s paid our bills even if we’ve never
had much extra past that.
 I wouldn’t be pushing my father on this if the building next
door wasn’t for sale. The surplus store that used to be there
closed at the end of the year, and the place has sat empty
for a month already.
For kicks, I called the realtor listed on the window and
shared the information with my father. I plugged the space
for classrooms, saying we could expand our class options.
Right now, we run a few advanced BJJ and Muay Thai
classes, but we could do so much more. If we included
kickboxing or CrossFit, even a boot camp, we could start
bringing in women. Right now, the gym’s a sausage fest.
We’re missing out on half of the population.
That idea had gone over like a fart in church with my dad.
Well, if things go according to plan, I won’t be here much
longer. I’m interviewing for jobs in the cities. By the
summer, this stagnant gym won’t be my problem.
Decker whistles under his breath. “Isn’t that Penny
Hampshire?” He nudges his head toward the door. “What’s
she doing here?”
I spin around. Sure enough, he’s right. Penny stands out in
the gym, not only because she’s a woman, though that’s
part of it. A quick scan confirms it—she’s the only girl in the
place.
But that’s not it. Penny’s a stunner—she has been since
grade school.
Right now, her long strawberry-blond hair is in a messy
bun on top of her head. She’s in skintight athletic leggings
and a zipped-up hoodie. She’s covered with material, but
none of it hides her tight ass and perky breasts. Right now,
she’s got some sort of purse she wears as a backpack on
her shoulders, and her arms wrap around her in a hug. She
lingers in the doorway.
“Hold up, Deck. Let me go talk to her.” I reach for my
Chesterboro hockey hoodie and pull it on. It’s cold near the
door.
“That’s right.” Decker punches me in the arm. “You and
Penny are friends now. Hanging out at your fancy school
together.”
“Shut up, dick,” I mutter. I hate when he makes comments
like that. It reminds us both that he didn’t go to college, and
I go to the school in town we always said was for stuck-up
rich kids.
“Hurry along,” he says, “before she sees you talking with
the townies.”
I glare and give him the finger as I head toward the front
desk. As I get closer, I hear her say, “No self-defense classes
at all?”
“We teach Brazilian jiu-jitsu and Muay Thai, and we work
with boxers.” Jake folds his massive arms over his chest. His
tone says he’s repeated himself, and Jake hates talking.
Having to say things twice particularly annoys him.
“Can I use any of that for self-defense?” Her voice is soft,
and whatever steam she worked up to walk through our
door is fizzling out.
 As I join Jake, Penny’s eyes fall on me and widen. Glancing
between the two of us, she swallows. For a second, she
looks like she’s going to bolt. But she hitches her chin up.
Her smile is the diplomatic smooth-it-over expression I
assume every rich girl learns from her mother. “Right. You
guys teach serious fighting here. I’m definitely in the wrong
place.” She pats the desk and backs away, still smiling.
“Thanks for your help.”
Spinning on her heel, she’s gone so fast that if the door
didn’t jingle closed, I might not have known she was there.
I glare at Jake, and he holds his hands up. “What?”
“Don’t you know who that is?” I hiss at him.
He raises his brows and shakes his head. “No. Should I?”
I glance back at the window—Penny is doing her best not
to run to her car. “That’s Penny Hampshire.”
He shakes his head.
“The girl that Teddy Little put in the hospital?”
His eyes narrow as he stares after her. I can almost hear
the cogs turning in his brain. Jake’s a great gym manager, a
devoted father and husband. But he’s never been the most
observant guy in the world.
Rolling my eyes, I rush through the door after her.

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 Penny

“WAIT UP.”
I’m almost inside the safety of my car when I hear Griff
behind me. I move faster, digging in my Michael Kors
backpack for my keys.
“Penny.”
“Hey, Griff.” The last thing I want to do right now is have a
conversation with him. I don’t know what I was thinking,
deciding to check out Parker’s. I guess I figured there had to
be other people working there—instructors, someone like
Layla who would have a welcoming grin and try to get me to
take a class there. Complete miscalculation.
I continue to sift through my purse with jerky movements,
not meeting his eyes. My makeup bag falls out, hitting the
concrete. I curse under my breath. As I move to bend down,
his sneakers are in front of me on the pavement. He
snatches the satchel off the ground, and I reluctantly meet
his gaze.
 Bright-blue eyes hit me like lasers, sending shock waves
through me. If good girls are really supposed to stay away
from the Parker boys, why did God make them all so fucking
gorgeous? And Griff… the Creator outdid himself with him.
From his shaggy brown hair and those vibrant blue eyes
right down to his enormous feet, he’s exactly what perfect
looks like. He’s tall, broad, and covered in muscles that beg
for fingertips. In high school, the basketball coach had tried
to recruit him, but he preferred lacrosse. Guess there wasn’t
enough contact and hitting people with sticks for him in
basketball.
Somewhere along the line, he learned to skate, because
our sophomore year at Chesterboro, he made the hockey
team. He’s as graceful and physical on the ice as he was on
the lacrosse field.
Our fingers brush when I take my makeup bag from him,
and I snatch my hand back so quickly that I almost drop the
bag again. Touching him causes a wild panic. Alarms sound
in my head. Proceed with caution.
He looks at me funny. My grip tightens on my backpack,
and I attempt a normal smile. “Thanks.”
Propping his hands on his hips, he studies me. The
intensity in his gaze is uncomfortable. His brows drop. “Are
you okay?”
I wave him off, attempting breezy. “Oh, yeah. Sure. Great.
Thanks.” I shift back to searching for my keys. Where the
hell are they?
 He rocks forward from heel to toe. “You looked off. That’s
all.”
“I’m on. Totally on. Everything’s fine.” My finger brushes
metal at the bottom of my black hole of a backpack, saving
me from sounding even more like an idiot. “Thanks for
checking in.” I unearth my keys and unlock my car door. “I’ll
see you around.”
I grip the door handle as his hand falls on my sleeve. Even
through my hoodie, I can feel the heat of him. Equal parts
awareness and stark terror race through me, and I slide out
of his grip, my eyes flashing to his. “Don’t touch me,
please.” I want the words to sound strong, decisive. Instead,
they come out breathy and soft. 
Alarm crosses his face. “Sorry. Right.” He clears his throat,
and I’m sure he thinks I’m crazy. Maybe he’s right. “I just
wanted to tell you they run some basic self-defense classes
at school. Maybe check with Student Affairs.”
“Right, of course they do.” I brush a strand of hair out of
my eyes. “Should have thought of that.” I had thought of
that, followed quickly by the knowledge that if I showed up
at some big self-defense class, everyone would stare at me,
talk behind their hands, and pity Poor Penny who got herself
beat up—Poor Penny who’s now a big wimp.
He glances around, like he’s sure he’s being pranked
because I’m acting so weird. “Well, sorry if Jake was an
asshole. He’s not a real people person.”
“You don’t say.”
 He frowns. “I’m trying to make nice here.”
“I know, Griff, and I’m just trying to escape.” The words
are out before I can catch them, more honest than I’ve been
with anyone in weeks.
His eyes flare. “Escape? From me?”
“Yes. No. From this situation.”
“What situation?”
“The one where I stopped into a gym full of big, burly men
and made a spectacle of myself.” I exhale. “You did a great
job. I’m all smoothed over. Can I go now?” I motion to my
car.
He almost looks irritated. “You won’t take the self-defense
classes at school, will you?”
“I might…” I hedge.
He raises his brows, all skepticism.
“Fine, no. I won’t. Not your problem, though.” I pat the top
of my car. “Thanks for checking on me. I’ll see you around.”
I nod as though everything’s decided, then open the door.
His hand snakes out, closing it.
“Hey,” I protest.
“I can teach you self-defense.” The words spill out of his
mouth in a blurt.
“What?”
“Self-defense.” He enunciates better this time. “I can
teach you some things. If you’d like.”
“Why?” I ask, my eyes searching the street. There needs
to be a camera crew somewhere, because this entire
exchange is awkward and bonkers. But there’s nothing
around. Hanover Street is off the major thoroughfare. There
are cars parked on both sides, but it’s midafternoon, and not
too much traffic comes this way during off-peak hours.
“Because you said you wanted to learn.” His eyes briefly
fall on the slash at my cheekbone, and I turn my face. He
hurries on. “And I know self-defense.”
I can still remember when he took on Billy Pritchett on the
playground. Billy, the local bigmouth, had said something to
Griff—I can’t remember what. I recall that Griff’s face had
become splotchy, but he had done nothing, even as people
encircled them. But when Billy shoved him, Griff exploded
on him. It should have been a bloodbath. Billy was
significantly bigger, at least fifty pounds heavier than Griff.
But Griff quickly got the upper hand, and the whole thing
was over before we even knew what happened. When it was
done, Griff stood up, brushed himself off, and walked home
with his head down.
It would have been impressive on its own. Add in the
emotionless expression on his face, and it had been
downright scary.
“Self-offense, too,” I offer offhand, because I’ve also seen
him play hockey. He’s the most physical player on the ice.
When he furrows his brows in question, I explain. “Hockey.
You’re out there when they need to push people around.”
He scowls. “That’s part of the game.”
“Why?”
 “Why what?”
“Why is it part of the game? To hit people?” I don’t know
much about hockey, to be honest. Our high school didn’t
have a team—maybe something about insurance. Football
ruled at Chesterboro High School. I hadn’t attended an ice
hockey game until college.
“There are sticks. People get hit.” He crosses his arms,
glancing around as if this conversation is so weird, he
doesn’t want to be overheard having it.
I lean closer. “With sticks. Not with people.”
“Well,”—he drags out the word— “if a person hits you with
a stick enough and no one does anything to stop them, then
sometimes that person needs a shove.” He cocks his head.
“Or… if someone hits someone smaller than them, then
sometimes that person needs to be offered someone their
own size to pick on.”
I open my mouth in rebuttal, but he holds up his hand and
blows out an exasperated breath. “Penny. Do you want to
learn about self-defense or not?”
I chew on my bottom lip. On the drive here from the gym,
I convinced myself that self-defense was the answer to the
gnawing pit in my stomach. I learned how to punch a bag,
thanks to kickboxing, but that won’t help me in a true
dangerous situation. I need to face a real person. Not just a
person—a large, big person. Someone who could actually
hurt me. Knowing how to hit doesn’t help me if I freeze up
or panic again.
 I shake that thought away. “So, you’ll run a self-defense
class?”
“No. It’ll be one-on-one.” He glances at the gym beside us.
“Jake’s correct—we don’t have group classes like you’re
looking for. We work with fighters mostly. Amateur,
professional, and enthusiasts. It’s not like Planet Fitness. We
don’t just have classes you can sign up for.”
“You want to teach me one-on-one?” My brain does not
compute.
“You’d pay me. Like all the other guys I teach.”
“You teach here?” Even as I ask, I want to kick myself. “Of
course, you do. It’s your family’s gym. Why wouldn’t you
teach lessons in…” I wave my hand helplessly, because I
have no idea what lessons he teaches, and words aren’t
forming in my mouth properly. I can feel heat rising in my
cheeks.
“I teach boxing and Brazilian jiu-jitsu.” The side of his
mouth twitches. “Will you need references? Background
check?”
I glare at him. “No. I won’t. Because I can’t take one-on-
one classes with you here.” I motion to the gym. “That’s a
swamp of testosterone.”
“I can come to your house if you want.”
The image of Griff Parker in my mother’s stiff and formal
house, covered in sweat and all his muscles, fills my head. I
can almost hear my mother’s censure. I can’t predict the
words, but it’ll be a bunch of stuff about how violence is
unladylike and supremely working-class. Her eyes will find
the scar on my cheek, and she’ll look away like she caught
me doing something naughty. “No way. You can’t be there.”
Griff’s face tightens. “Right. No Parkers in the Hampshire
estate. Silly me.”
My eyes widen. “What? No, not like that—”
He cuts me off. “You know what, Penny? Forget it.”
“Griff…”
Shaking his head, he backs away. “I’ll see you on
campus.” The smile he offers is sharp enough to have
edges. He hops up on the sidewalk, burying his hands in his
pockets. Still walking backwards, he glances across the
street, and when he meets my gaze again, his expression is
softer. “Check Student Affairs, though. Okay?”
Before I can say anything else, he’s through the door,
leaving me on the street beside my car.
I stare at the front of the gym. His brother Jake’s eyes find
me, and I glance away quickly. With quick work, I unlock my
car, slide behind the wheel, and pull out without looking
back.
On my way home, I think about the harsh lines of Griff’s
face. I didn’t mean to upset him or hurt his feelings but
bringing him anywhere near my family isn’t possible. My
mother is complicated and hardcore old-school. Over the
years, I’ve learned that the less involved she is, the better
for everyone. I already know she would think self-defense is
unladylike, and she would definitely not approve of spending
any time with Griff Parker. He’s not acceptable. To my
mother, that means he’s not rich, connected, or influential.
As far as she’s concerned, I should focus on getting married
to some such acceptable boy as soon as possible, preferably
this summer, right after graduation.
Acceptable Boy and I would live nearby, and we should
join the country club my family has belonged to for decades.
Acceptable Boy would do something… acceptable. He would
work for my father’s law firm, or he would be a doctor or
banker. I wouldn’t need to go to law school if I was married
to him. I could devote myself to volunteer work, support my
husband in his career aspirations, and raise babies.
Not that I don’t plan to support my future husband or raise
babies, and volunteering seems fine. But what my mother
wants is for me to be like her, and I’m certain that’s not
what I want.
I’m also sure that one-on-one instruction with Griff is a
horrible idea. If I hadn’t been sure before, the flare of
awareness and panic I felt when we touched would have
confirmed it.
I don’t doubt that he knows his stuff. In fact, his family is
probably the best in town to teach lessons like this. But my
brain is a chaotic mess already. I don’t need any more
confusing thoughts cluttering up the place, and Griff has
always disoriented me, even before Teddy and… everything.
Not only is he big and beautiful, all hot blue eyes and
chiseled muscles, but he’s intense and controlled in a way
that I find unsettling. It’s the kind of tension that makes me
wonder what he’s keeping locked away.
Maybe on-campus self-defense or training classes would
be okay. School starts for the spring semester on Tuesday,
so I’ll stop into the Student Affairs Center and see if I can
find anything out.
Anything is safer than spending time alone with Griff
Parker.

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 Griff

I OPEN THE DOOR to the gym with enough force to make

the bell hanging from it complain.
I’m a fucking idiot. When I offered Penny lessons, I told
myself it wasn’t a big deal. I’ve been taking on more and
more private clients this year. The money is substantial, and
I’ve been saving as much as I can. Entry-level business jobs
in New York City and Philadelphia pay little. The cost of
living is high there, too, so it’s going to take some capital to
get my feet under me. First month’s rent and security
deposit, I’ll need some basic furniture, and I’ll need to buy
some suits. That stuff all costs money.
Except my offer to teach Penny wasn’t just about money.
She intrigues me and always has. In high school, she ran
with the rich and popular girls, but she didn’t seem to fit in
there, at least not completely. She’s gorgeous, of course,
and just as pampered as the rest of them. She has the
nicest clothes, her hair is always perfect, and she got the
prerequisite rich girl birthday present at sixteen years old—
a brand new sports car.
But though some of her friends got off on lording their
status over guys like me from the poor side of town, Penny
stayed out of it. If she got involved, it was to shut things
down.
Like the time Amanda Carstairs tried to embarrass Decker
for asking her out at a football game in our sophomore year,
Penny calmly piped in to remind her of the sleepover when
Amanda kissed a pillow, pretending it was him. Then Penny
had walked off like high school bullshit was too boring for
her, leaving Amanda red-faced. The move had been so
savage, she’d gained my immediate respect.
She would never date me. Girls like her and Amanda
didn’t go out with guys like me—at least not for real. Sure,
Amanda and Decker hooked up after that, but it never got
serious. Amanda went on to date some prep-school boy in
junior year. They had matching BMWs.
And Penny started dating Teddy. None of that stopped my
eyes from finding her when she was around.
Things have changed very little since we started college.
She pledged Delta Alpha, the most sought-after sorority on
campus, and I ended up on the hockey team. I tried lacrosse
my freshman year because I’d played in high school, but
then a friend from my English comp class who played
hockey invited me to mess around on the ice with him and
some teammates. It was only a pickup game, but I loved it.
It was all the contact from lacrosse, but it played faster,
thanks to the skates. I was hooked.
I signed up for lessons, skated as often as I could. Kenny
worked with me in his spare time. I tried out in the spring
and made the third line. Coach said he liked my physical
play and my heart.
The Delta Alpha girls hang out with the hockey team, so I
saw Penny some. Nothing changed between us, though. She
might be Delta Alpha and I might be a hockey player, but
none of that shit trumps childhood social status, I guess.
Then again, she partied little with the others. Maybe she
was just busy. She started dating Teddy Little during our
senior year of high school, and they spent a lot of time
together. He went to prep school, too, so I didn’t know him,
but apparently his family goes to the same country club as
the Hampshires.
“Decker left money for his lesson,” Jake says, interrupting
my mental ranting. He holds up some bills between his
fingers. One benefit of lessons with friends—paid in cash.
I swipe the money from his fingers. “Thanks.”
He jerks his chin toward the window, motioning to where
Penny’s Audi had been. “You talk to her?”
“Yeah.” I swipe a hand over my face.
“And?”
“And what?”
He rolls his eyes at me. “Are you going to coach her or
not?”
 I snort. “Please.”
“Huh.” He shrugs. “I assumed that’s why you followed
her.”
I glare at him. “Really? Not because she was upset?”
“Was she?” He looks genuinely surprised.
“You’re clueless, you know that?” I shake my head,
laughing at him. “I have no idea how Emma puts up with
you.”
“Me either.” He grins widely. “But I’m glad she does.”
Affection is clear on his features. I would have never
imagined that my brother would be this kind of sappy,
romantic fool, but when he met Emma in high school, he
was a goner. They had some rocky patches, especially when
she got pregnant young, but they’ve made it work. They’re
stronger and happier than they’ve ever been.
“How’s she feeling?” I ask. Emma’s pregnant with their
second child. It’s only the first trimester, and Jake said she’s
been really sick.
“Today was a rough one.” Concern floods his features.
“She throws up so much that she’s losing weight. How’s that
a thing? I thought people gain weight when they’re
pregnant.” He shakes his head. “She’s needed to call out of
work a bunch this week. Her boss isn’t happy.” Emma is a
bartender at a restaurant a town over.
“Have you asked the doctor?”
“They ran some tests. We’re supposed to go back next
week.”
 “Keep me posted.” I clap him on the shoulder. “And let me
know if you need anything.” I knock my knuckles against
the front desk. “Oh, and if anyone’s looking for private
lessons, I’m happy to take them. It’ll free you up, and I could
use the money.”
“Will do.” His expression gets wistful. “I don’t know what
we’re going to do when you’re gone, Griff.”
My gut twists, but I try to hide my discomfort with a grin.
“You’ll rejoice and skip around here like a ballerina!”
“Right. Ballerina skipping. I forgot.” He nods solemnly, and
I laugh. I give him a punch on the shoulder, putting enough
force into it he feels it, but it doesn’t hurt him—a standard
brother punch. He rubs the spot in mock hurt, so I flip him
off and head for my bag.
As I pack up the rest of my stuff, I shake off the lingering
feeling of stupidity from my conversation with Penny. I
pointed her in the right direction. I’m sure there will be
something at the college that will help her, so my good deed
is done. Training her would have been a distraction I don’t
need. It’ll be a rough enough semester as it is. Between the
end of the hockey season and my final projects to graduate,
I don’t have time for anything that will kill my focus.
Until then, I need to keep my eye on the prize—getting
out of Chesterboro.

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 Penny

I SPEND THE WEEKEND before classes start dodging calls

from my sorority sisters. Students are back on campus, so
there are parties, and they invite me along. Though I have a
room in our sorority house, I haven’t moved back in. I’m not
sure I want to.
The pre-semester parties are always the wildest, and I’m
not in the mood. The party part is fine. I love to dance and
hang out with the girls. But parties mean crowds, and
crowds mean people. Lots of people. The dance floors will
be packed, and that means a lot of bumping and touching
and shoving.
Even the thought of it has me in a cold sweat.
Instead of partying it up, I curl up in my bedroom with a
thriller, eat a cupcake I bought from Sweet Elena’s bakery,
and watch a superhero movie. My mother is busy at one of
her clubs, some fundraiser. My father isn’t home much,
thanks to an important case. He practices corporate law,
and they’re representing a local lumber company against an
environmental advocacy group. It’s keeping him busy.
Thanks to the low-key weekend, I should be ready for
classes to start on Tuesday. Instead, I’m a bag of nerves.
The only girl from Delta still bombarding me with texts is
Violet Tannehill. On Tuesday morning, I get the most pointed
one yet: lunch is at noon at our tables. I expect to see you.
A flare of irritation staves my pang of guilt off as I reply.
Are you asking as a member of exec board or as my friend?
Violet is vice president of finance for our sorority, thanks to
her interest in business and finance.
Both? The shrugging emoji follows her response, and my
prickliness dies away as I giggle. Violet is a force of nature.
She’s pretty, whip-smart, and doesn’t take no for an answer.
I don’t even bother fighting with her.
I’ll be there. I can’t avoid the girls forever, after all.
That thought sits uncomfortably in my gut. Is that what
I’ve been doing—avoiding them? Probably. Well, today is as
good a day as any to see them.
I sit through my only Tuesday morning class, an advanced
government class I need to finish my history major. The
syllabus is daunting, as expected, and the reason why I
planned to take this class last and during a semester where
I wouldn’t have a lot of other hard coursework.
It’s only eleven, so I head to the Student Affairs office
before lunch. I thought all weekend about my conversation
with Griff. There’s no way I can train with him, so the only
other option is taking a class campus. I scan the pamphlet
the helpful desk clerk gives me.
“Penny?”
Never has the sound of my name caused me so much
panic. It’s past panic and closer to terror. Immediately, I
check for others around. The desk clerk is in front of me,
working on her computer. Down the hall, three girls are
chatting.
Witnesses.
That eases some tightness in my chest but does little to
slow my racing heart. I don’t even look to my left when I
say, “Go away, Teddy.”
I feel him lean against the desk next to me even before I
glance at him. When my eyes meet his, I almost cringe
away. I should have listened to my first instinct and run. I
don’t care how rude I would have looked.
“Penny, please. Just give me a second.” He reaches for
me, and I shift back two steps, out of his range.
“Don’t touch me,” I hiss. The streak of fiery anger that
races through me is a welcome change from icy panic.
“Of course.” He holds his hands up like he would never.
But both of us know he would. He did.
I need to get out of here. The air in this office is too hard
to breathe. I head for the door without another word to him,
making sure that I don’t go anywhere without people. The
quad is busy since it’s almost lunchtime. Plenty of people
are around who will overhear or step in if I need help.
 It’s too much to ask that he would leave me alone.
Outside, though, the cold air revives me. I stop on the porch
of the Student Affairs office, in plain sight of everyone, and I
fold my arms over my chest. “What do you want?”
“Penny.” He tucks his hands in his pockets and rounds his
shoulders, but I’ve fallen for that aw-shucks routine of his
before. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”
I blow out an exasperated breath.
“And I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I would
love to have it. This past couple of months has been hard on
both of us. But I’ve done a lot of soul searching and spent
time in rehab, and I think if you give me another chance,
you’ll see that I’ve really changed.”
I stare at him. I’m sure my mouth is open. “Are you
serious?”
He cringes at my tone. Maybe it is high-pitched, but these
are extenuating circumstances.
“You mean, you changed while you were in rehab because
you beat me up and needed to go or I would have pressed
charges?”
His eyes find the scar on my cheek before they slide away.
Confusion wrinkles his brow. “Rehab was my idea.”
He probably believes that. Our fathers might even have
let him. Hell, my father, the brilliant lawyer that he is, could
have even helped that narrative along. The lot of them
probably cooked Teddy’s rehab up in a conference room to
appease all parties involved.
 The whole imagined scenario—my father and Jonathan
Little, bank chairperson and local business owner, sitting
around in a meeting, talking about how to best navigate the
sticky situation caused when a drugged-up alcoholic college
boy doesn’t take rejection well and beats up a girl half his
size—pisses me off. “I’m done talking to you. In fact, I never
want to talk to you again. Leave me alone.”
I back away from him, keeping him in my sight like I would
a wild animal. I do everything in my power not to run to the
cafeteria and pray that he doesn’t follow me. I don’t breathe
properly until I’m inside. I can’t hear around the pounding of
my heart.
I clench the crushed flyer from the Student Affairs office in
my fist. I throw it in the trash can next to the entrance door.
There’s no introductory self-defense or karate class listed
that is going to help me if Teddy ever finds me again when
he’s drunk, high, and angry. I need to learn how to protect
myself immediately, and I need to learn from someone who
can actually help me.
I stride into the cafeteria, my head up. Around me, people
turn to stare, and I can feel them straighten or whisper. I
ignore it all and head for the Delta Alpha tables. I slide in
next to Violet, who is already eating a salad. “Have you seen
Griff Parker?”
She jumps, startled, then throws her arms around me and
squeals. “Pen, I’m so glad to see you!”
“You too, babe.” As I say the words, I realize I mean them.
 She pulls away, and I glance toward the hockey tables and
repeat my question. “Is Griff here somewhere?”
She shrugs. “I haven’t seen him. Why?”
“Just something I wanted to ask him.” It’s not that I don’t
think Violet would understand the chaos in my head. She’s
always been a good friend to me. But I don’t want to talk
about how helpless I feel. I want to do something about it.
“Do you have his number, by any chance?”
“I don’t.” Wiping her fingers on her napkin, she reaches
for her phone. “But I can get it for you…”
I cover her hand with mine. “That’s okay.” I don’t want the
hockey guys grilling him about why I want to talk to him.
“Do you know if they have practice today?”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course. Their coach won’t let up
until he’s got a championship title. They’re usually there
from three until five.”
I smile. For the first time in a long time, it doesn’t feel
forced. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Her brows furrow. “You going to eat?”
After my run in with Teddy, I feel kind of nauseous, so I
shake my head. “I’m good.” I try to ignore the concern that
fills her face. “Seriously. I’m good, Vi. Don’t worry.”
I’ve had to convince lots of people over the past couple of
months that I’m fine. But this time, it doesn’t feel as much
like a lie.

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 Griff

WE HAD A GAME this past weekend, so our team shouldn’t

be rusty. But Tuesday’s practice is a mess. Mikey Dischenski
and I have been on the same line for two years, but today it
felt like we were brand new partners. While I usually read
his moves flawlessly, we were on different wavelengths
today. It wasn’t only us, either. The top line—Hunter, Declan,
and Ash—were off too. Coach got so fed up he called
practice fifteen minutes early and made us skate so hard
that two of the freshmen went to the bench to throw up.
No one is in a good mood afterward, but I don’t have the
luxury of going back to my room and relaxing. I need to get
to the cafeteria fast, so I have time to pick up something
before heading to the gym. I have a training lesson at the
top of the hour.
I hustle to the beat-up Nissan I bought over break. It’s
nothing to look at, but my buddy rebuilt the engine, and I
trust that it’ll get me where I need to go until I can get
established enough to buy something better. As I throw my
bag in the back seat, someone calls my name.
Penny is on the sidewalk, looking like she had to hurry to
catch up with me. “Griff, hey.”
“Penny?” I sound surprised because I am.
She hops down off the curb. “Yeah. Hi.”
“Hi.” I close the back door. It sounds like she was looking
for me, so I wait for her to say something. But she only
stares up at me, her eyes wide in the streetlight. It’s almost
February, so the sun sets early. It’s almost pitch dark, and
it’s barely after five.
After a long awkward moment, she ducks her head.
“Right. I hoped that I could talk to you.”
“Well, you caught me. I’m on my way to pick up some
dinner. I need to be at the gym at six.”
“Oh, of course. Okay. This won’t take long.” She shifts her
weight as if whatever she has to say is having a hard time
making its way out of her.
“What’s up?” I prod.
“Are you still interested in teaching me self-defense?” She
blurts out. The words come in one breath, as if there aren’t
any spaces between them. She meets my eyes again, and
her skin flushes. Redheads complain about how easily they
blush, but somehow, Penny makes it look gorgeous, all
freckles and creamy skin.
“The question is—are you interested in me teaching you
self-defense?” After our conversation last week, it was clear
I wasn’t the hold up. After all, it was my idea.
If it’s possible, her flush deepens, but she nods. “Yes. I
am.”
I narrow my eyes. “Are you sure? Because a few days ago,
you didn’t seem to be.”
“You were the one who told me to forget it when I said we
couldn’t do it at my parents’ place,” she fires back.
I can’t remember exactly how our conversation ended, but
that sounds like something I might have said. I regroup.
“What changed your mind?”
She cocks her head, and I can see that she doesn’t want
to answer. Her teeth worry her bottom lip as her eyes slide
away from mine. “Teddy.”
The way she says his name makes my stomach twist. It’s
not only anger or fear. I don’t understand it, but it makes me
queasy.
I hate bullies, especially bullies who prey on those who are
smaller than they are. And the very worst of those are big
guys who use their strength to control others and push them
around. I’ve seen firsthand how it ruins confidence, makes
people doubt themselves, and wreaks havoc in their lives.
Seeing the evidence of that on Penny’s face tightens my
chest.
“What did he do?” I purposely keep my voice as calm as I
can, but Penny still flinches. “I mean, are you okay?” After
all, she doesn’t have to tell me anything.
 “I’m fine.” She nods. “Good.” But she blows out a breath.
“I saw him today, and I wasn’t ready to.”
“Couldn’t you get a restraining order or something?” I
don’t know if she pressed charges against him, but Safety
and Security found her on campus. Surely, campus
administration could do something, even if the police didn’t.
“It’s complicated.” She shakes her head. “But seeing him
made me reconsider. That’s all.” Her tilted chin says that’s
all she’s going to say.
I don’t know if she doesn’t want to talk about it, or if she
doesn’t want to talk about it with me. We aren’t really
friends and that isn’t why she’s here. I redirect the
conversation. “What exactly are you looking for?”
She blinks. “Lessons. Self-defense.”
“That’s a broad scope. How often? What kind of self-
defense? What are your objectives?”
She scowls at me. “I don’t know. Aren’t you the one who is
supposed to know these things?” She’s all prissy with a side
of high and mighty. I’m familiar with vibes like hers, the kind
that rich people level at the poor folks like me and my
family. But it hits different from Penny. It feels like a shield
she’s hiding behind.
“I know all the things, Red. Don’t you worry,” I drawl. Her
blush returns in full force, accompanied by another glare.
Any hint of defensiveness is gone. Now, she just looks like
she wants to smack me. My grin widens.
 “I’m sure you do.” She huffs and crosses her arms over
her chest, mimicking my stance. “I need you to teach me to
protect myself. I’ll learn whatever it is you can teach me
about that.”
“From Teddy?” I raise my brows. If we’re going to do this,
she needs to acknowledge what it is that she’s working for—
and I need to know what I’m dealing with.
She offers a curt nod, and something dark and ugly skates
through me. I don’t know exactly what happened that night
beyond what I heard through the grapevine, and that’s
never correct. Somehow, she ended up in the hospital with a
broken rib. First, I heard Penny was drunk, then I heard
Teddy was. I heard that she followed him and vice versa. I
heard that he was going to jail. Then I heard that she was
dropping out of school. Someone said she was pregnant.
The gossip grapevine is run by assholes, I guess. Honestly, I
don’t care what the details are. Nothing excuses what Teddy
did.
But she doesn’t need anger. She probably has enough of
her own. She came to me for action, to do something. If she
wants to learn to protect herself, that’s something I can help
her with. “You’re small,” I finally say.
She practically snarls at me. Good. I’d rather see her mad
than scared. “I’m petite.”
I snort. “You’re barely average height, probably
underweight. You can’t think that you’ll be able to take him
on.” I pause as her face falls. “At least not on your feet. I’m
going to teach you Brazilian jiu-jitsu.” Her grin is like clouds
parting to let the sun out, and for a moment, I can’t breathe.
My God, she’s pretty.
“That sounds perfect.” Her relief is practically a physical
force.
I scowl at her. “Do you know anything about BJJ?”
“No. But if you say it’ll help, I believe you.”
“I’ll teach you some actual self-defense moves too. Your
goal, if you’re attacked, should always be to get away. Run,
find help. Don’t fight. But if you do need to fight, I’ll do what
I can to help you learn.” It’s a promise offered solemnly.
When I say I’m going to do something, I do it. End of story.
With a squeal, she throws her arms around me, surprising
me. She’s lucky my reflexes are quick, because I barely
catch her before she bounces off.
I wasn’t wrong—she’s a slip of a thing. She’s always been
thin, but as my fingers tighten on her, I can feel her ribs.
The concern that sweeps through me is surprising, but not
as much as the sharp stab of lust. Maybe because she didn’t
zip her jacket and she’s stretched out, her arms around my
neck, the position pressing her breasts to my chest. Or it
could be because she fits against me, the dimensions of her
body filling in the angles of mine. Whatever it is, it sends a
whooshing sensation through my gut, as though I’m on a
roller coaster.
I don’t have time to examine it, though, because she
stiffens almost immediately and pulls back with a soft “oh.”
Her blush returns, fierier than ever, and she looks around,
anywhere but at me. Clearing her throat, she takes two full
steps back. “Um… Thanks,” she says, shifting her weight as
if preparing to run. “That would be great.”
Holy shit. I’ve always been attracted to Penny, but that
was different than any flash of desire I’ve ever felt. To
distract myself, I stretch out my hand, and she looks at it
like it’s a snake about to bite her. “Give me your phone.”
“Why?”
“So I can steal your identity.” She scowls, and I roll my
eyes. “So I can give you my number?” Seems pretty obvious
to me.
“Oh. Right.” She reaches into her coat pocket and unlocks
it. “Here.”
She already opened her messages, so I type in my
number and send a blank message. In my pocket, my phone
vibrates. “There. Text me, and we’ll organize a time.”
She nods and smiles, but it’s forced. “Definitely. I’ll talk to
you soon.” Hopping back on the sidewalk, she takes off,
back toward the rink. I watch her. Mostly because I like the
way she looks. But something about the way she’s holding
her shoulders has me following, even though I shouldn’t. I’m
already running late.
“Penny,” I call, and she turns back to me, her eyes
searching the shadows around us. “Don’t you have your
car?”
“I left it at the sorority house.”
 I scowl. The Delta Alpha house is across campus. “Why
don’t I give you a ride?”
She shakes her head, her eyes wide. “No, no… that’s fine.
I don’t want to put you out.” She’s backing away, and
there’s apprehension on her face. “I’m definitely good.”
It strikes me that she doesn’t want to be alone with me, at
least not in an enclosed space. Part of me wants to be
offended. I would never hurt her. But she doesn’t know that.
After what she’s been through, it makes sense that she’s
cautious.
That doesn’t help her walk across campus without being
afraid. Shit…
In the moments I took to consider, she’s almost made it to
the corner, so I jog after her, calling her name again. She
stops, but her expression is wary. “What?”
“Let me walk you,” I offer.
“To the house?”
“To your car.” I motion in the right direction. “It’s dark.
And you didn’t really want to walk by yourself, did you?”
She tilts her head, and the truth is all over her face. Still,
she pauses. “Are you sure? Don’t you have somewhere to
be?”
“It was my suggestion.” Why is she making it so hard to
help her out?
She wants to turn me down, but her fear gets the best of
her. Finally, she nods. “Thanks.”
 We set off in silence, our steps in sync, and I can’t help
but wonder what I’m getting myself into with this girl.

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 Penny

NEXT TO ME, GRIFF is a mountain of hard muscles. I know

because I just got a firsthand feel of them.
I shouldn’t have hugged him. Penny from before would
have done something like that. She was a hugger, a tuck-
her-hand-in-someone’s-elbow walker, the girl who would
squeeze someone’s fingers because she cared to make
contact. I’m not like that anymore. Now, I don’t like to touch
strangers. I don’t like crowds, either. But when Griff said he
would teach me, I was so physically relieved that it was like I
couldn’t help myself.
God, he felt good—an impenetrable wall of muscle, warm
and hard. I’ve hardly touched anyone since that night with
Teddy—actually, probably since a few months before that,
when things got rocky between us. Longer than I can
remember, and I miss physical contact like it’s a hole in my
soul. I just haven’t been able to manage it. Not since that
day.
 I decided I want to go to law school this summer, like my
father. I’ve always been interested, but it wasn’t until I
started looking forward to my future that I realized I wanted
that path. My mother wasn’t supportive, which I’d expected,
but I hadn’t expected Teddy to be so vehemently opposed.
He’s headed for the pros—football, a tight end. He didn’t
understand why I needed to go to law school when he could
support us. I was supposed to marry him and follow him
wherever he went. He said he would buy me the biggest
ring and the nicest house, that we would join the best
country club money could buy. I didn’t think he was serious
at first. But when I started filling out applications and signed
up for the LSAT, things got contentious between us. He’d
suffered an injury in the fall and started depending on some
prescriptions. He was drinking more. His temper became
unpredictable, and so did his actions.
I grew afraid to be around him and broke it off in early
October. He didn’t take it well. I should have seen the signs
that he would be dangerous then, but I didn’t. Or maybe I
did and didn’t allow myself to believe that it was serious.
After all, we both come from well-off families. Picture-perfect
family portraits hang on the walls of our houses, and our
parents play tennis and sip cocktails together on the
weekends. I naively believed things like this didn’t happen
to people like me.
I was a fool.
 I should have learned something from that, but here I am,
letting a stranger walk me across campus. Except Griff and
Teddy are nothing alike. Teddy’s a charmer, a salesperson.
His father’s a banker, and he learned young how to work a
crowd and persuade people. He’s also volatile and quick-
tempered when he doesn’t get his way. And Griff? I don’t
think I’ve ever seen Griff lose his temper. Not really. I’ve
seen him fight. I’ve seen him be physical, but he’s always in
control.
I don’t want to think about that. Right now, all I want is to
scurry back to the safety of my car, then retreat to the
silence of my empty room and hide.
Except Griff was right. Walking to the Delta house alone
felt like a gauntlet. I should have driven to the rink. It wasn’t
dark when I’d started to walk, though, so I hadn’t thought
about how I’d feel when the sun set. I sat in the lobby,
studying, while I waited for practice to end. Mentally, I curse
myself. I need to be better about stuff like this. No walking
alone at night.
I can't think of anything to say for an entire block. “It’s not
too cold tonight.” It’s pretty shitty as far as conversation
starters go, but I can’t handle the silence anymore. “I
probably didn’t need my heavy coat.”
He grunts in response.
I bark out a laugh. When he looks at me in question, I
shrug. “Yeah. I wouldn’t have a response to that, either.”
 His grin in return is sheepish, and he rubs the back of his
neck. Something about the movement is so boyish, it tugs
at my memory. Suddenly, I’m reminded of Griff from years
ago, when we were kids. Even back then, those electric-blue
eyes and the intense way he watched everything made me
nervous. Girls whispered about him, and the brave ones
pursued him. I wasn’t brave. Not then. Never, really.
That unsettles me, so I blurt out, “How much do you
cost?”
His eyebrows shoot up, and the side of his lips tilt up. “I’m
worth every penny, Red.”
I bet. My face is on fire. “I already have a nickname,” I
remind him.
He wrinkles his nose. “What?”
“Penny.” I glance at my feet. “You called me Red, but I
don’t need a new nickname. I have one.”
“Penny isn’t a serious nickname, though, right? Your real
name is probably Penelope or Penance or something. That’s
not exactly original.”
“Eleanor.” I flinch. It’s a family name that hangs like an
anchor around my neck. “Eleanor Regina Hampshire, named
after a grandmother with red hair.”
“No way.” He skips to face me, walking backward next to
me. His eyes are wide in surprise. “Why do they call you
Penny, then?”
“Copper Penny.” I hold a strand between my fingers, then
drop it. “Because… red hair.”
 “I’ve gone to school with you my whole life. How did I not
know that?” He’s staring at me like he’s never seen me
before. It’s uncomfortable.
I shrug. “You don’t really know me well.”
Though it’s true, it makes me feel icky. Chesterboro isn’t a
huge town. Our high school only graduated around a
hundred kids each year. Numbers like that should have
made it impossible not to know each other. But Griff and I
haven’t had more than cursory conversations over the
years, even after we got to college. When I was younger, I’m
sure I steered clear because my mother would have
disapproved. Later, I stayed away because Teddy didn’t like
me to talk to guys. Or really anyone he didn’t know.
Griff drops back to walk next to me again, falling silent. I
glance at his face, and it’s unreadable. Sexy, too. It’s
amazing that someone can be so hot from both front and
side. Who am I kidding? He’s hot from the back, as well.
And that’s the real reason I’ve avoided him all these
years. I could blame my mother or Teddy, but I’m lying if I
don’t admit that I stayed away because Griff is so stupid
gorgeous, so intense and masculine that he makes little
sense to me. Instead of trying to understand all that, I just
kept my distance.
“I’ll charge you my usual rate for clients. It’s by the hour.”
He names a cost that’s about what I pay per class at my
gym. “I usually see them once a week.” He buries his hands
in his pockets. “You can come to the gym if you want.”
 The prospect of all those guys staring at me while Griff
teaches me to fight upsets my stomach. “That’s okay. I’ll
find somewhere. But I’d like to get together three times a
week, especially at first.”
“Whoa. That’s a lot.”
“I know nothing, and I won’t learn quick if I only see you
for an hour a week.” Now that I’ve taken this step, I’m all in.
I don’t want to feel helpless anymore.
His brows drop, like he can’t make sense of me. He should
get in line. I don’t understand myself much anymore, either.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Two nights during the week.” I consider. It’s our last
semester, and I’m sure he’s going to be busy with his
coursework as well. “And one weekend. Morning, maybe.”
“I don’t know about the weekends. I’ll have hockey. We
start back up with games this weekend.”
“We can wing it. When you have time. I don’t care how
early or late you want to meet. I’ll work around your
schedule. If I don’t have classes, I’ll be able to
accommodate you.” There’s nothing as important as this to
me right now.
“Three is a lot, Pen…” He shakes his head, but I cut him
off.
“I need to learn fast.” For the first time since Teddy hurt
me, I allow some of the pain and anxiety I feel to leak into
my voice. I stop, and so does he. Under the soft streetlights
that illuminate the quad, I gaze up at him. If I were brave, I
might reach out and squeeze his hand. Instead, I can only
make myself hold his gaze. “I don’t sleep well, and I’m
jumpy, distracted. I saw Teddy today, and…” I can only
shake my head. “This isn’t how I want to feel. I want some
control back, and this is how I’m going to get it.”
His laser-blue eyes search my face, and I get the distinct
impression that he sees what I’m not saying. That he can
feel my fear, my shame… all of it. It makes my fingers
shake, and I tighten my hand into a fist to stop that
weakness.
Finally, he says, “You’re putting a lot of faith in some self-
defense training.”
“I need to do something.” It’s all I have right now. I’ve
seen a therapist and briefly tried medication. I’ve done yoga
and meditation, my kickboxing. I’ve gotten nowhere, but I
don’t care. I’m not giving up.
“All right, Eleanor.” He flicks one of my curls, sending a jolt
of awareness through me. “Three times a week. But I’m
warning you. They’ll probably be late hours during the week
and maybe early on weekends. With hockey and my other
clients…”
“Whatever. As early as you need on the weekend.”
“Not too early, right? We’re still in college.”
“I don’t sleep a lot.” I almost tell him I don’t drink, either,
since that night, but I stop myself. There’s enough
vulnerability on the table for one day.
 He studies me again, his mouth twisted as if I don’t make
sense. Yeah, good luck figuring it out. At last, he nudges his
head forward. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
I don’t tell him I plan to go to my parents’ house tonight. I
have moved none of my clothes or personal things back into
my room in the sorority house, even though I have a prime
single room on the top floor. It’s not that I don’t love it. The
view from the windows of my room is great, looking over the
gardens behind the science building. I’ve just avoided it.
It’s been safer to hide in my room at home.
As we walk on, I glare at my feet. How do I expect to get
stronger if I’m letting myself hide anywhere? That is about
to change. Tomorrow, I’ll drive some things over and start
staying there again. It’s my sorority, my campus. Teddy
being here doesn’t change that. I pay my tuition just like he
does. More than he does, probably, thanks to his football
scholarship. I have as much of a right to be on campus—
comfortably and safely—as he does.
We turn the corner to approach the Delta Alpha house,
and for the first time in a long time, I truly take it in. It’s an
old Victorian with creaky staircases and water pipes that
sing. I love every inch, from its wide porch to its single-pane
windows that make the place freezing cold in the winter. My
mother and her sister were Deltas before me, but I love the
sisterhood, its institutions, and its place on campus in its
own right. Teddy shouldn’t take that from me. I won’t let
him.
 “Maybe we can practice here.” I stop at the foot of the
porch stairs. “I’ll ask Violet if we can use the basement.”
“Sounds good. Let me know.” He motions to the door. “Off
you go.”
“Oh, yeah, sure. Thank you. For walking me. I didn’t really
want to be alone.” I’m glad for the shadows here. Stupid
pale complexion and easy blush. “I’ll text you.” I skip up the
house stairs, my keys already out.
“Great.” He steps back and waits until I’ve got the door
open before saluting me. “Night, Penny.” He doesn’t wait for
me to say anything as he jogs back the way we came. I
close the door and watch him through the window as he
retreats.
I never pictured Griff Parker as the knight-in-shining-armor
type to escort a girl home, let alone wait for her to get
inside before leaving. It seems I don’t know him well, either.
Maybe these lessons will give me a chance to change that.
Pushing away from the door, I shake my head, laughing
softly. I must really be thinking big today. First learning jiu-
jitsu, now getting to know Griff Parker? It’s like the sky’s the
limit.
Spinning, I head upstairs to see what I need to get moved
back into my room.

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 Griff

WEDNESDAY NIGHT I’M ON dinner duty at my dad’s place.

After we finish our food, I clear the dishes. I spent most of
holiday break at home, but now that I’m back at school, I’ll
go back to stopping for dinner a few times a week until Colin
is back home. Right now, he’s been traveling a lot for fights,
so Jake or I usually hang out at the house to help Pop with
dinner. His shoulders and wrists hurt him a lot more when
the weather is cold or wet, so we cook and clean up for him.
Today, I can see the pain etched on his forehead. His joints
might be swollen because it’s supposed to either rain or
snow tonight. I reach for the warming pads in the cabinet.
I’m not sure exactly what’s in them, but Emma picked them
up at a farmer’s market or something. They’re reusable, and
after a few minutes in the microwave, they hold their heat
for a while. They do wonders to relieve Pop’s pains on days
like this.
 As I slide our dinner pan into the sink full of soapy water, I
stare out the window in front of me. My father’s rancher is
on the outskirts of Chesterboro, so the lot’s pretty big.
There’s a creek that runs along the eastern side of the
property. Something’s on my mind, and I’m running out of
time tonight.
“A girl came in looking for self-defense classes at the gym
again,” I offer by way of beginning. Behind me, my father
grunts, and I continue. “I really think you should add classes
like that. It would be good for the business.” I don’t mention
the building next door again, but it remains unspoken in the
air. We don’t have the space for big classes now. Expanding
class offerings would require physical expansion, too.
“We had this discussion last week. I’ve made myself
clear.” He did—it’s a hard pass from him.
I glance over my shoulder, my hands still in the water. I
keep my voice level, but I say what’s on my mind. “You
have. I still think that you’re being a stubborn ass.” My
father rolls his eyes and says nothing else. “Someone
recently attacked the girl.”
My hands still sudsy, I shift so I can face him, leaning on
the sink lip behind me. Dad’s face softens the slightest bit,
but he remains silent. T a different angle. “I already showed
you the plans for the expansion. I investigated how much it
would cost, spoke with a builder, and ran some numbers.
It’s a good long-term investment.”
 His eyes narrow on me, and there’s tightness around his
mouth. “And who is going to oversee a larger place, Griff?
Jake? He and Emma are busy with their family. Emma’s
pregnant again, and he’s worried about her. It’s not a good
time for him to be spending hours and hours away, setting
up the gym. Besides, he’s a great manager, but he’s not
business minded. Colin? Maybe he could do it, but with his
schedule and the travel required for his fights, you know
he’s unreliable.” He lifts his brows. “You? Are you planning
on staying in Chesterboro to oversee the expansion?”
Whatever he sees on my face must be answer enough
because he chuckles. “Exactly.”
I rally. “Between all of us, we could manage the details of
getting it off the ground. After that, we would hire people,
like every other gym.”
He wrinkles his nose in distaste. “Outsiders?”
I roll my eyes. He makes is sound like we don’t already
know the roughest people in town. “We’d have an interview
process, try to hire from within.”
“And who’s going to manage those people?” Pop shakes
his head, waving me off. “I’m too old for all that. If you boys
want to change it when I’m gone, that’s your business.”
“When you’re gone?” I reach for a towel and dry my
hands. He’s run the gym at the same location for thirty
years and never once spoken about selling it. “What are you
talking about?”
 My father’s eyes narrow on me, as shrewd and alert as
ever. He might not be as physically strong as he once was,
but he’s still as sharp as a tack. “I turn seventy this year,
Griff. I’m old.” He lifts his hands, and I can see the swelling
in them from here. I reach into the microwave to retrieve his
warming pads. He glances away, his face tight. “I’m not
going to be around forever. If it wasn’t for you boys, I’d have
given it up years ago.”
“Dad, you’re as feisty as ever.”
He snorts. “Damn right.” He glances at his hands. “But tell
that to the rest of my body.” A hint of sadness touches his
features. “I wish your mother could see you three. She’d
have been so proud.”
I swallow hard. My father rarely talks about my mom. “Of
course, she would, Dad. You did a great job.”
He chuckles. “I did what I could. The gym was my life, but
someday it’ll be on you three to decide if it’s your future.”
He moves to stand, slower than he has been in a while.
“Now that all that touchy-feely bullshit is over, I’m going to
go sit under that electric blanket Emma just got me. Are you
staying here tonight?”
I shake my head, clearing my throat. “No. I’ve got an early
class.”
“I have that doctor’s appointment on Thursday night.
Jake’s going to be working. Can you take me?”
“Sure, Pop.” I pull my phone out to set a calendar
reminder. “It’s your cardiologist, right?”
 “Yeah.”
“Everything okay?”
“They just asked for some tests. I need to go see them
about the results.” He waves me off. “I’m sure it’s fine.
Come say goodbye before you go.” He makes his way into
the living room, and I study him. Talking about after he
dies… I don’t know what’s gotten into him tonight. I’ll need
to check in with Jake.
Right now, though, I’m left thinking that my conversation
with him didn’t do anything to help girls like Penny, looking
for self-defense classes, especially if they aren’t on campus
at Chesterboro, where there are courses. An image of her
standing next to my car hits me. She was obviously
uncomfortable with walking across campus alone. The
campus is well-lit, but that probably doesn’t help if someone
feels alone and scared. Penny had me to help her last night,
but what about all the girls who don’t have someone? Do
they just go anyway, even when they’re afraid?
There’s campus security, but they don’t have the
manpower to help every person who doesn’t want to walk
alone.
With my hands in the suds, I get an idea.

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 Penny

IT’S AFTER EIGHT O’CLOCK. Griff is late.

I try to breathe as I pace back and forth in our parlor, next
to the front door. He won’t be able to get inside without me.
It’s only ten minutes, but I’ve been psyching myself up all
day to see him, to start this training. The extra time is only
stressing me out.
When I asked Violet about using the basement to train
with Griff, she was ecstatic. I don’t know if she’s excited to
have me back at the house, if she hopes that self-defense
will help me get stronger, or if she just thinks I want to hook
up with Griff, but she insisted we start as soon as possible. I
texted Griff, and he said he could come by tonight.
I spent the afternoon moving back into my room. If any of
the girls think it strange that I’m a week later than everyone
else, no one says. Since everything happened with Teddy,
people tiptoe around me. But some of them stop in, give me
hugs, tell me they’re excited to have me back. All of it
touches me, and I wonder what took me so long to come by.
After I unpacked my stuff—I couldn’t fit that much in my
two-door sports car—the only thing left to do was wait and
think about what learning to fight with Griff would be like.
Touching him, watching all that muscle, being under the
weight of that intense blue gaze. My anxiety levels are
through the roof.
My phone buzzes in my hand. Griff. I’m outside.
I inhale a steadying breath on my way to throw open the
door, holding it wide. “You’re late,” I blurt out. Whatever
else I was going to say dying in my mouth.
His wet hair curls around his face, and his jacket is open,
haphazardly arranged on his shoulders like he hadn’t spared
a second to straighten it. He’s wearing sweatpants that ride
low on his hips, and his shirt looks like he threw it on while
he was still wet, because it’s plastered to his chest, giving
me a clear view of all the muscles from shoulders to waist.
Griff, right from the shower, might be the hottest thing
I’ve ever seen in my life.
“I’m sorry,” he says, obviously frazzled as he sets his bag
next to the door, scraping his wet hair out of his eyes.
“Coach had some tape that he wanted us to go over after
practice. Kept us late.” He finally looks up at me. “What?”
“Um,” I clear my throat. “Nothing.” I close the door and
wipe my sweaty palms against my thighs. If I’m going to do
this, I need to get it together. “No problem.”
 He puts his hands on his hips. “You look weird.”
I mimic his stance. “Are you always this smooth, or am I
just lucky?” When his face clouds, I sigh. “Sorry. I’m just…”
What am I, exactly? I take him in again, all six plus feet of
hot-guy muscle. Turned on? Completely unsettled about
spending the next hour wrestling with him? “Nervous.”
“About?”
I motion him into the parlor, out of the doorway as a
couple of my other sisters head down the stairs. When
they’re out of earshot, I motion between us. “About learning
how to do this with you.”
“You came to me,” he points out.
“I know. That doesn’t mean I can’t still be nervous.” Why
are guys so dense sometimes?
“Are you afraid of me, Penny?” he asks.
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing except a squeak
comes out.
His brows dip lower. “I’ve taught lots of people, but this is
a rough sport. I can’t promise that it won’t be hard or that
you won’t get sore or hurt. But I tell you I’ll do everything I
can to make it as safe as possible, and I’ll never hurt you on
purpose.” He keeps his voice low and steady, but I hear the
vow in his earnest tone.
I believe him. Griff Parker might not back down from a
fight, and he’s known for being merciless on the hockey
rink. But I’ve never seen him out of control, and I’ve never
seen him hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. I don’t know
him well, but as I stare up into his gorgeous face and hold
his deep-blue gaze, I realize I trust him.
I shouldn’t. After all, I trusted Teddy once, even after my
instincts told me not to. But Griff isn’t Teddy. If I’m going to
move forward, I need to learn to listen to my gut again.
Right now, it’s telling me I can believe him.
“I need you to know this,” he says, his voice husky and
ferocious. “I know how to hurt people. Lots of different ways.
But I don’t push people around for fun, and I would never
use violence to control someone. Only in defense or sport.
Nothing else.”
“I know, Griff,” I whisper, and I realize it’s true. “I’m not
afraid of you.”
He searches my face, and whatever he finds must be good
enough to convince him, because he finally nods. Bending,
he unzips his bag, retrieves a few papers, then hands them
to me. On the top, it says, Chesterboro University
Chaperones.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a new campus resource.” He shoves his hands into
his pockets, his shoulders rounding like he’s bracing himself.
“I was thinking the other day, after I walked you to your car,
that no one should have to feel uncomfortable walking
around our campus. So today, I made an appointment with
the head of Safety and Security and proposed a school-wide
volunteer initiative. Campus leaders and volunteers would
sign up to be on call from dinnertime through the night to
be available to walk other students where they need to go.
People could sign up alone, if they feel confident walking by
themselves to help others, or in pairs.”
I recognize what it is I’m holding—a flyer. At the bottom,
there are pull tabs with a phone number on them. “Whose
number is this?”
He shrugs. “That’s a number at Safety and Security, but
it’s forwarded to my phone for now.”
“You’re going to run it?”
“Until it gets off the ground.”
“You did this… for me?” I’m touched but also
embarrassed. How pathetic must I have appeared to him
the other night, needing help, if he began an entire
volunteer opportunity out of it?
He rubs the back of his neck. “For anyone. The campus
runs classes, as you know, but maybe people don’t want to
learn how to defend themselves or they don’t feel
comfortable fighting. There’s safety in numbers, and no one
should feel uncomfortable on our campus. Or anywhere,
really, but I’ll start with campus.”
I don’t know how to respond. He must read that on my
face because he continues quickly. “I thought you might
want to be involved.” He motions to the paper. “That’s why I
brought the flyer.”
“Me?” I couldn’t be more surprised if he asked me out.
“Well, yeah. We could use all the help we can get. I
thought maybe you could pair up with some of your friends.
Offer a few hours here and there.”
Is he serious? I can barely manage myself. How am I going
to step up and help someone else? I move to hand him the
flyer back. “I needed someone to walk me to my car.”
He pushes it back. “That’s why I’m asking you. Because
you get it. It’s also why you go in a group, with a friend or a
few people. Just think about it, okay? I could use everyone’s
help. Be part of the solution. Help other people feel safe
too.”
I can only stare at the paper between us. Could I be the
one to help someone else when they were afraid? That’s
never been my role. I’m a watcher, not the one who takes
charge.
Griff thinks I could be, though, or he wouldn’t have
suggested it. “Thank you,” I say, hugging the paper against
me. “I’ll sign up.”
“Great. That’s good.” Slinging his backpack on his
shoulder, he doesn’t meet my eyes. His ears are pink.
“Where are we going to practice?”
I get the impression my gratitude makes him
uncomfortable. Another piece of the puzzle that’s Griff
Parker—he doesn’t like attention. First, he comes up with
the chaperone idea, and now, he’s embarrassed when he’s
thanked for it.
Griff is nothing I expected.
“We’re going to be downstairs.” I motion through the
downstairs hall. “The door’s back there.”
He nods and heads that way, still not meeting my gaze.
He’s definitely surprising.

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 Griff

“YOU’RE FLINCHING.” IT ISN’T the first time I’ve told her,

and I’m trying to keep my patience. We’ve been at this for
over a half an hour, and I’ve been showing her a few
rudimentary self-defense moves. What to do with someone
grabs her from behind, and what to do if she’s grabbed on
the arm. But every time I put my hands on her, she
hesitates, tenses.
She glares at me, hands on her hips. “I know. You already
said.”
“Can you stop, then?” I fire back at her.
“I’m trying.” Exertion flushes her face, and the little hairs
at her temples have stood out, but she looks amazing,
sweaty and glowing. In her yoga pants and tank top, all her
long, toned limbs are on display. I’m trying not to admire
them—I’m supposed to be being professional—but I’m still a
healthy, red-blooded guy. She told me she’s been
kickboxing, working out, and it shows.
 It’s not only that, though. She’s naturally athletic. I didn’t
expect that. I’ve known her forever, but I don’t think she
ever played any organized sports. She should have. She’s
picking up all the stances easily and gracefully. In fact, she’s
doing everything I’ve asked of her… except for the flinching.
That’s probably why both of us are getting frustrated.
I try again, speaking slowly. “Tensing up makes you
slower. Every second counts in a situation like this. You can’t
afford to flinch. If you flinch at me, how do you think you’ll
be able to manage in an actual situation?”
She runs a hand over her hair, smoothing the flyaways,
but they bounce right back. “I already know how I’ll react.
That’s what got me in this position.” Frustration is clear in
her voice, but it’s not only that. It’s fear and what almost
feels like hopelessness, as if she’s afraid she’ll never be able
to react differently.
A wave of anger laces through me. Every time I think
about what that asshole Teddy did to her, I want to rip him
apart. That she’s still dealing with the ripple effects of it fills
me with rage. She said she told him to stay away from her,
and he better. I hope he stays away from me, too, or I’m not
sure how I’ll react.
“That was someone else, Penny. Not me.” I need her to
know that, not just for training, but because it’s important to
me. I try not to think about what that means.
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
 “I do, Griff.” She presses one hand to the base of her
spine and offers me a smile. “I told you. And I said, I’m
trying to control it. But some things just aren’t rational.”
“You know that it’s coming. Brace yourself.” I stand in
front of her again. “Go again.”
She squares her feet and tenses. I lunged forward,
grasping her wrist. She moves through the motions I taught
her. She steps to the side and jerks her arm down. But it’s
slow. Again.
She growls, pacing away from me. “I did it again.”
I don’t have to agree with her. She already knows. “Maybe
we need to take a break.”
“I don’t want to take a break. I want to get this.” Her
frustration leaks into her words.
“Let’s try this a different way.” I head toward where we
dropped our stuff, grab her water bottle, and bring it to her.
When I hand it to her, I make sure our fingers touch. She
tenses. “I see.”
“What do you see?” she practically snarls as she takes a
sip of water.
“It’s not just that you’re flinching during our moves, you
stiffen up every time I touch you.”
“No, I don’t.” She tosses her ponytail over her shoulder.
“You do. If you aren’t afraid of me, what is that?” I know
I’m pushing, but maybe that’s what she needs.
“I’m not afraid of you. I told you I wasn’t, and I’m not
lying.” She exhales. “I think you’re hot. Okay? You and your
gigantic body and your dumb, chiseled muscles.”
“Oh.” Smooth. A girl tells me she’s attracted to me and
that’s all I can say? In front of me, her stance is defensive,
and her eyes guarded.
I can’t help comparing this defensive girl to the one
upstairs earlier. When I gave her the flyer about the
chaperone service, she got immediately prickly. I’m realizing
that Penny Hampshire uses offense and argument when
she’s uneasy. When I explained I thought it would be helpful
for her to be involved, the softness in her eyes struck me in
the throat, choking me up. She pulled the paper against her,
holding it like something fragile, and she looked at me like I
was a hero. No one has ever looked at me like that before,
and it scared the shit out of me.
She’s still waiting for me to say something, so I clear my
throat. “You’re attracted to me.” I almost groan. God, how
stupid can I sound?
“I’m not happy about it, either.” She growls out at me.
“It’s definitely not making this any easier.”
“No, that’s not what I meant…”
“I’m not afraid of you.” She tugs the hair tie out of her
long hair, twists it up into some sort of bun, then reattaches
it. “I told you I wasn’t, and I’m not. Now, can we just get
back to work?” She turns away from me, stretching her neck
back and forth and presenting me with the graceful curve of
her spine.
 I want to reach for her, but I already know she’s not
comfortable with my touch. I want to tell her I’m attracted
to her too. But we’ve never been a good fit before, and that
holds especially true now. We’re from different sides of the
tracks and have completely different lives. That doesn’t
change just because I want her.
This is just a coincidental intersection of two people. It’s
obvious she’s coming through a difficult time, and I
promised to teach her. In a few months, we both graduate,
and then we’ll be out of this town. For now, I need the
money, and she needs what I know. This is a strictly
professional relationship, and it wouldn’t be right to take
advantage of that.
“I’m your instructor. It’s not professional for anything to
happen between us.” I say the words with enough force to
make sure she knows that I’m serious. And maybe I want to
make sure that I know I should be serious. Penny Hampshire
is beautiful, smart, and completely off-limits to me. “I
promise you I won’t make any moves on you while I take
your money.”
“Of course.” If her face flushed from exertion before, then
the color that rushes to it now is something different. What I
don’t expect is my reaction. When the blood rushes to her
face, mine rushes into my shorts. I grit my teeth. She
smiles, and it’s breezy. “That would be a conflict of interest.”
She doesn’t know how interested I am in her. I motion
back to the open area in the basement of her sorority
house. “You know what? Why don’t we work on some
stances and basic punches and leg sweeps?”
That’s enough touching Penny for the night.

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 Penny

I FINISH WITH GRIFF at exactly nine o’clock. He doesn’t

waste any time getting his stuff together and getting out of
there. I guess I the only one who needed to regroup after
our training session. Even after a long shower, I keep
replaying our conversation.
I think you’re hot.
Why did I have to tell him that? It would’ve been a lot
easier if I had let him go on believing that I was afraid of
him, but I couldn’t. He’s been doing everything he can to
help me out, and I couldn’t let him think that he scared me.
The way he reacted? I don’t think I could have surprised him
more if I told him I was hiding secret superpowers. Every
time I replay it in my head, I want to curl up under my
covers and hide.
It’s almost ten-thirty when Violet knocks on my door.
When she pushes open my door, I’m thankful for the
distraction. “You had your first lesson with Griff tonight,
didn’t you?”
I put down the book I was pretending to read for my
English class and roll my eyes. “Yeah.”
Violet wiggles her eyebrows. “Griff, huh? Can’t say I blame
you for trying to hit that.”
I shake my head, sitting up straighter. “Oh no. Absolutely
not. It’s nothing like that. He’s only teaching me how to
defend myself.” He made it very clear tonight that our
relationship needed to stay professional.
Violet sits at the end of my bed and winks at me. “Sure,
he is, hon.”
“Seriously. We grew up together. It’s nothing like that.”
The teasing leaves Violet’s face. Concern filters into her
features, and I almost wish she would go back to teasing
me. “It could be like that. I don’t know Griff very well. He’s
busy a lot, but Hunter really likes him.” Violet says,
referencing Hunter Mason, another hockey player and one
of her good friends. “He seems like a great guy. And you
deserve a great guy.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I am not ready for any guy. I can’t
even train with him without embarrassing myself.”
“What do you mean?”
I can’t tell Vi about admitting how attracted to him I am.
I’ve had enough embarrassment for one night, so I deflect.
“I tense up and flinch every time he gets close to me.”
That’s not a lie. I do get jumpy around people I don’t know
well, and crowds really freak me out.
Violet leans over and squeezes my hand. “That’s okay.
Seriously. You need to give yourself some time. Go at your
own pace and do what’s right for you. You know I was only
messing with you. I only want what’s best for you. We all
do.”
I squeeze her hand back, smiling at my friend. Why has it
taken me so long to reach out to my sorority sisters? I think I
had been afraid of how they would react, but all I’ve
received since I’ve been back in the house is their support.
“You know I adore you, don’t you Violet Tannehill?”
“Of course, you do,” she says. “How could you not?”
I giggle. She’s too much.
“You know, if you have a hard time training with him,
maybe I can help you.”
I cock my head in question.
“I’ve been thinking that it would be good for all of us—the
sisters, I mean—to learn how to defend ourselves. Maybe we
could suggest that Griff teach anyone who’s interested in
learning some self-defense.”
I force a smile. “That is a great idea.” I mean it. I would
hate for any of my sisters to go through something like I did.
But even though I’ve spent the evening being
uncomfortable with being alone with Griff, I don’t relish
sharing him, either. I’m not making any sense anymore, and
I don’t understand why. “I’ll ask him,” I say firmly. “We’ll
have to come up with some way to pay him.”
“Absolutely. I think it would be good for all of us.”
I lean forward and fold Violet into a tight squeeze. Her
heart is in the right place, and I can’t fault her logic, but I’m
starting to wonder if maybe logic goes out the window for
me when Griff Parker is involved.

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 Griff

THANK GOD FOR MUSIC.

I’m in my usual spot before our Friday night hockey game,
and as per usual, everyone’s leaving me alone. We all have
our pregame rituals—mine is listening to music. Sometimes,
it’s heavy, and sometimes, it’s sweet, depending on my
mood. Right now, Hall and Oates, one of my dad’s favorite
bands, croon in my ear, and I allow them to soothe me.
Last night, I took my father to what I thought would be a
routine appointment with his cardiologist. Pop had
mentioned that he’d had some tests done, but it didn’t
prepare me for the news that he has a blockage in his
carotid artery. He’s going to need surgery within the next
week or two, and they’re hoping to stent the opening.
Jake didn’t take it well, but he promised to check on Pop
tonight because I can’t, thanks to this game. I left a
message for Colin, but he hasn’t returned it. Knowing my
middle brother, he’s going to avoid this unpleasantness at
all costs.
The doctor tried to soothe us, telling us that there’s no
reason to panic, that he performs this type of procedure all
the time. He saw nothing that suggested high risk factors. I
grasped onto that and let it calm me down.
Right now, I need to leave Pop to Jake and focus on this
game. I’m in the locker room, and before long, I’ll be on the
ice. I smile. This will be my last semester playing, and it
would be great to finish my hockey career with a playoff run.
Hell, we could go all the way to the finals.
Our team has been playing great, and we’re currently
sitting in an excellent position to advance. Last year, we
made it to the last game and lost. It would be the cherry on
top of my hockey career if we snagged the championship.
A lot of the other guys on the team will move on to play
professionally. Some will end up in the minors, while others
will go directly to the NHL. But I don’t have any delusions
that could happen to me. I’m a decent player—I’m solid, but
I don’t have the explosiveness that some of our top stars
have. I know how to get in there and get dirty when the
other team isn’t acting the way they should, but there’s not
a lot of space in professional hockey for scrappy players
these days. Years ago, every team would need an enforcer,
but with the restraints on fights, teams can’t afford to have
a guy who’s just a fighter—their tough guys still need to pull
his weight on the scoreboard. That means that after this
year, I’m destined for beer league hockey.
Coach steps into the middle of the room and gives us a
quick pep talk about playing hard and how every game from
here on out is going to count. He says it like none of the
games before now mattered, and to some extent, that’s
true. It keeps everything grounded in the present.
We file into the hallway and wait for our turn to get on the
ice. I listen to the boos as our fans greet the other team and
grin. When it’s our turn, I skate onto the brightly lit ice and
smile, my chest feeling lighter. This is exactly what I need—
to be here, with my teammates, moving my body.
We dominate the entire game. But no one more so than
Ash Draper, our top-line center. I don’t know what got into
the guy, because usually he’s more of a grinder, finishing
his checks, doing the work in the corners, and thinking
defensively so that his wingers—Hunter and Declan—can do
the flashy parts. But today, he’s all over the place. In the
third period, he gets his hat tricks. I don’t know the guy well,
but he looks pretty damn proud of himself.
On their next shift, though, someone hits Hunter too close
to the boards. Taken alone, I might have let it go. Checks
happen in our game, and sometimes, they turn out
awkwardly. But the offender, number thirty-two, has been a
little hit-happy today, running guys up and down the rink.
This hit is the last straw for me, a blatant and dangerous
collision while the refs are skating away. No call. If Hunter
hadn’t caught himself at the last second, he could have
been really hurt.
I stand up and roll my neck. Meeting the coach’s eyes, he
gives me a nod. We don’t tolerate that sort of stuff. This is a
physical game, but there are unspoken sportsmanship rules.
Thirty-two just broke them.
It’s my job to remind him how to act.
Coach cycles our shifts, watching their bench so that we
can time my play with the offender. He pats Mikey, the other
winger, on the shoulder, and Mikey gives me his glove for a
fist bump. When we hit the ice, I keep my eyes on Mr. Thirty-
Two, lining up on his side. He’s Mikey’s man, but for this
shift, I’ll pick him up.
I’m patient. Times like this don’t need emotion—they need
opportunity, and I wait for the right chance. When it
happens, I’m ready. Thirty-two receives his pass. He’s
admiring it, too busy looking at the puck to see me coming.
I square my body up and hit him right between the
numbers. It’s clean. I’m not a dirty player. We’re in the
center of the ice. I don’t lift my body, and I don’t leave my
feet. Still, I put enough force in the check that he ends up
sprawled on the ice.
There’s a gasp from the crowd, but no whistle. Must have
been impressive on the big screen. As I follow the play, I
glance back. He’s still on the ice. I’m sure I knocked the
wind out of him. But he’ll think twice next time he decides
to cheap shot one of our players into the boards.
 There’s a stoppage—icing—and I head back to the bench.
Down low, I get a few fist pumps. Nobody likes a cheap
player. I guess everyone else was sick of the guy’s antics,
too.
The last minutes run out, and we keep our lead.
Everyone’s psyched as we make our way back into the
locker room. A hat trick and a win. It doesn’t get much
better than that.
I get undressed and overhear Declan razzing Ash about
some girl. Apparently, a girl he dated in high school was at
the game, and Ash was showing off for her. I pile on to the
teasing. Ash can be a stoic guy, so it’s fun to see him out of
sorts. But when Declan asks him why he gave the hat-trick
puck to her, I leave them to it. Declan’s the captain, and this
is his show. If he’s got concerns about something, that’s not
my business.
I head for the shower.
By the time I get back to my locker, most of the guys have
cleared out. Declan stops over to see me.
He holds up his fist. “Way to take care of business out
there.”
I bump it. “That could have been ugly. If Hunter hadn’t
looked up, caught himself in time…” I shake my head. It’s
bad luck to talk about what-ifs. We’re a superstitious lot.
“Yeah. I saw.” Declan’s mouth tightens. “We file that one
under ‘needed to be done.’ But I was afraid the ref was
gonna call you.”
 I snort. “Please. I know what I’m doing. It was clean.” I’m
the closest thing to an enforcer that our team has. I don’t
spend much time in the box. The key is to keep my head,
and I pride myself on being levelheaded.
“I know. I just wanted to make sure you’re keeping that in
mind as we get further into the season. Coach will have all
our asses if we all don’t take our playoff run seriously.”
Declan winces.
“That’s why we leave him to you, Cap.”
“Right.” Declan chuckles to himself. “Hey, I wanted to tell
you again how great I think it is… what you’re doing with
the chaperone service.” I start to shake my head and shrug
him off, but he claps me on the shoulder. “And to thank you,
I’ve already recruited Ash to help this coming weekend. He’ll
be the first point of contact. If you need anyone else after
that, you can call me or Linc.”
I hold out my hand, and he slaps it. “Thanks, man. I
appreciate that.”
He winks at me. “Ash didn’t have a choice, really. After
that stunt he pulled during his hat trick…” He shakes his
head. “We don’t showboat.”
After Ash scored his third goal, he skated up to the girl—
his high-school sweetheart, I guess—and handed her the
puck. The fans ate it up, but Declan’s right—we keep things
cool here. No one guy gets the glory.
On his way to grab his bag, Declan pauses, his face
apologetic. “Hey, I wanted to tell you that rent’s due.” He
knows that I’ve been struggling to make ends meet recently.
“No problem. I’ll get that money to you.” I smile
reassuringly.
“Good man.” He tosses his bag over his shoulder and
heads out, leaving me alone in the locker room.
Just like that, the game fades away, and all my regular
stresses flood back in. My father’s upcoming surgery,
money, my savings…
I throw the last of my things into my bag. With Penny’s
lessons and the few other clients I’ve picked up, I should be
in good shape. I just need to find the time for all of it.
As I head out of the locker room, I bite my bottom lip,
allowing my mind to stray to Penny. I had hoped to fit in a
lesson for her last night. The extra cash would have been
nice. But Pop’s cardiologist appointment prohibited that.
Might have been for the best, because I still haven’t figured
out how I’m going to deal with her jumpiness around me.
Unwittingly, her confession from the other day fills my
head: I think you’re hot. I flex my fingers in my pockets. I
think you’re hot, too, Red. But all that doesn’t help her learn
what I’m trying to teach her, and it certainly isn’t good for
my peace of mind.
I need to get us both to compartmentalize. We’re friends.
That’s what we need to focus on. Six months ago, I would
have laughed at even considering that she and I could be
friends. But now, I realize that I want that—maybe more
than I should.
 How, though?
I still don’t have an answer by the time I get in my car and
head to my father’s house.

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 Penny

I MEET MY MOM for lunch on Saturday. We go to the new

Italian restaurant in town, which she claims she needs to try
before everyone else does. I glance around. I probably could
have worn jeans or pants, but it’s my mom. She wouldn’t
have approved, so I wear a dress in a pretty peach color to
accentuate my skin tone with nude heels. I cover the scar
on my cheek by applying my makeup with as much mastery
as I can manage. This lunch isn’t just to catch up—it’s
making sure that I haven’t fallen to pieces over the past
three days while I’ve been out of her direct supervision.
Her concern comes from a good place, but like everything
else my mother does, it’s got an aggressive edge to it. As
soon as we’re settled and the server is on his way to get our
unsweetened iced tea, she starts in with her questions.
“Eleanor, how has your week been?” She smooths her
napkin in her lap. “I expected to hear from you, but I
assume you’ve been very busy with the beginning of the
semester.” Her voice is mild, but I know what the comment
is—a reprimand.
“Being back in the house is wonderful.” I gush. “I’ve been
spending a lot of time with Violet, and I’m excited to dig into
my last classes.” There isn’t a good explanation for why I
didn’t call. It’s better to leave some things unsaid.
“Nothing out of the ordinary has happened? Everything
has been just as normal?” The phrasing is careful, but by
“out of the ordinary,” she means Teddy. I know enough to
tell her what she wants to hear.
“Everything’s perfect, Mom.” I follow up with a smile.
Luckily, the server arrives with our drinks, distracting her
from examining my face.
When he’s gone again, she studies me with shrewd brown
eyes. “I’m so glad. I’m sure that you’re happy to be getting
back to normal.”
My sip of iced tea gets stuck in my throat, and I struggle
to swallow, so I pat my lips, still smiling. “Absolutely.
Normal.”
“Of course. I knew it would be.” She sits back in her chair
and squares her shoulders. “You’ve done everything to put
that unfortunate incident behind you.”
I need to smother the manic laugh that rises in my throat.
First, I’m not sure that my mother knows anything about
what it’s taken to move forward, and “unfortunate incident”
marks her as the queen of understatement.
 “I only wish you weren’t planning to leave at the end of
the summer. Law school is a huge undertaking, and you’ll be
so far away.”
She drives me crazy sometimes, but there’s genuine
worry in her expression. I pat her hand across the table. “I’m
only applying to schools in the tri-state area, Mom. That’s
within easy driving distance.”
“You could stay here, though.” Animation fills her eyes, as
if she can’t picture anything more exciting for me than living
in my hometown forever. Then again, that’s exactly what
she did. “If you want to learn about law, you could work at
the firm with your father. Give yourself some experience,
meet some new people.” She fingers the strand of pearls at
her neck. “Your father will hire at least two new associates
in the summer. Perhaps you’ll hit it off with them…”
It takes herculean effort not to roll my eyes. She’s
probably already got me married off in her mind. “I think I’m
ready to make this step, Mom.” My voice is steady, and I
keep any of the uncertainty I have hidden, because even
though moving home with my parents fills me with dread,
leaving Chesterboro and striking out on my own is equally
frightening. But I’ll keep that to myself. Underneath her
meddling, she’s worried about me, and I refuse to give her
any reason to doubt me.
The night I ended up in the hospital, I still remember her
face when I pulled out of the pain-medication-induced sleep.
It had been near dawn, and from the look of her, the police
had woken her from a sound sleep. I rarely see my mother
without full makeup and completely coiffed, and definitely
not in public. But that’s the version of her that was sitting
next to my hospital bed that morning.
It had hurt to breathe, thanks to a fractured rib puncturing
my lung, and that made crying even more painful. “I’m
sorry, Mom,” I whispered, because the fear in her eyes had
been an almost unbearable weight.
She squeezed my fingers, careful to avoid the IVs and
oximeter on my finger. “Don’t you worry, baby. This will be
over soon.”
I drifted back to sleep thinking that “over” implied an
ending. That night felt more like the beginning to me.
Since then, it’s become clear that my mother lumped my
boyfriend being high and beating me up in with other
milestones in my life. Walking, riding a bike, my first
period… all just hurdles I had to cross on the path to
adulthood.
“I’m good, Mom,” I tell her now, smiling. “You don’t need
to worry about me. I’m back in classes, back at the house.
I’m even taking self-defense classes.”
“At school?” She diverts her attention to the menu.
“That’s wonderful…”
“Well, no.” I stare at the specials, bracing myself. “With
Griffin Parker.”
Loaded silence follows that declaration. I glance up at her,
and the crease between her eyebrows is a sharp ridge.
“Eleanor, do you think that’s a good idea?” She leans closer.
“The Parkers are brutish, basic men… boxing and fighting.
It’s uncivilized—”
I cut her off flippantly. “Who better to teach me self-
defense, then?”
She glares at me, pursing her lips. “You need to be careful
with them.” She shakes her head.
I’ve never understood why my mother is so opposed to
the Parker family, but when they come up, it’s as if she finds
their existence offensive. I think she went to high school
with Griff’s mother. Maybe the distaste stems back that far
or it could be something else. It never made sense to me
before, and now that I’ve spent some time with Griff, it feels
even less fair.
Still, I don’t want to argue with her, so I wave her off.
“He’s teaching a few others as well, Mom. You have nothing
to worry about.” That’s not a direct lie. Violet reached out to
him yesterday and asked if he would take on a small class,
like she proposed. He’d agreed. But that was only supposed
to be one day a week. Our arrangement was for three.
We haven’t gotten together since our first session on
Wednesday, though. Thursday, he had to take his father
somewhere, and last night, he had a hockey game. The gap
between sessions—especially after whatever weirdness we
shared—has only made me more anxious about seeing him
again.
 “That’s good, then.” She scowls and blows out a disgusted
breath. “Self-defense. Such violence. You know, you
wouldn’t need to worry about things like this if you found a
nice boy to settle down with and get married. Someone who
could keep you safe.”
“A boy got me into this mess, Mom.” The words are out
before I can catch them, and I grit my teeth. Predictably, my
mother puffs up.
“Well, obviously not that boy, Eleanor.” She waves the
reference of Teddy away, as if a few months ago, he hadn’t
been the boy she expected me to marry. “Another boy. A
better boy.”
I don’t want to have this argument with her. That’s always
her solution—a man. My mother has very set opinions about
gender roles. Trying to convince her differently is pointless.
“Well, until he shows up, I’m good. Back to normal now.”
Sensing that the subject is closed, she offers me a
composed smile. “Of course. Whatever you need,
sweetheart. I’m happy to see you doing well.” After that,
she changes the subject, launching into a description of the
upcoming charity luncheon she’s planning at the club.
I do what I can to listen to her, but mostly count the
minutes until lunch is over. Not because I don’t love my
mother—I do. But I’ve always had to pretend to be perfect in
her presence. It was difficult before. Now, it’s almost
impossible.
 I finish my iced tea. My mom is taking so long with hers
that it’s probably gotten warm. I’m contemplating this when
my phone buzzes with a text from Griff.
I have time this afternoon to work with you. Are you
available? I stare at the words. I’m supposed to go back to
my parents’ place and gather more of my things. My father
is at the office until later, but Mom told me that he hoped to
see me for dinner. But even thinking about spending all that
time with them right now is exhausting.
I am, I type back. Meet you at the house?
“Is everything all right, dear?” My mother asks, stirring
her tea again.
“Yes.” I lock my phone and offer her an apologetic smile.
“A friend needs me. Would it be all right if I stop over
tomorrow to get my things?”
My mother’s face falls. “But… your father hoped to see
you.”
“I’ll stop into the office this week to say hello,” I say to
pacify her. My dad probably won’t even remember that he
was supposed to see me tonight. Pulling my napkin off my
lap, I stand and retrieve my purse from the back of my chair.
Not wanting to give her any more time to argue, I sweep
forward and drop a kiss on her soft cheek. “I’ll text you later.
I love you.”
Her sigh is heavy. “Of course, dear. If someone needs
you…”
 I’m already moving toward the door. As I wait for my coat
at the coat check, out of my mother’s line of sight, I stave
off a pang of guilt. What would have happened if I’d told her
the truth? I wish that it would be simple—that she could
accept my choices and decisions, and we could have a
conversation about how I’m really feeling. But things with
her are more complicated than that and always have been.
In the past, I tried harder to live up to her expectations. But
that all changed when I realized that what she wants for me
and what I need are different. Maybe they always were.
I shrug into my coat and sweep out of the restaurant to
meet Griff. It’s time for me to do what I think is best.

I glare at the motorcycle parked in front of the Delta Alpha

house as if it might burst into flames at any moment. “You
said we were training.”
Griff throws his leg over the side, dismounts, and removes
the helmet from his head. He should have hat hair, but he
doesn’t—it’s perfectly tousled. In jeans, a hoodie, and a
leather jacket, he looks like a model. “We are.” He props the
helmet on the handlebar. “You’re going to go for a ride with
me.”
“Absolutely not.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.” He salutes me with a grin.
“That’s why I didn’t tell you until I got here.”
 “How is this training?” I fold my arms over my workout
clothes—leggings and a tank top. It’s only February, and it’s
freezing outside. I’m not dressed for it. “This isn’t self-
defense.” I point at the bike. “In fact, that thing can actively
kill people.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’ve had my motorcycle license almost
as long as I’ve had my driver’s license—since I was sixteen.
I won’t take you on any dangerous roads. We’ll stay on the
back roads, and we won’t go far.”
I scowl at him.
“You’ll be perfectly safe.”
“‘Perfectly safe’ isn’t a description one uses when
motorcycle riding.” I don’t even know anyone who owns a
motorcycle. Wait, I’m wrong. One of my father’s partners
has a Harley. But he mostly uses it to ride in parades and
stuff, I think. Mom said he bought it during a midlife crisis.
He bounds up on the porch next to me. This close, he has
to look down to meet my eyes. I shiver, but I don’t think it’s
because of the cold. The sun is bright today, and his eyes
are a crisp blue. “You flinch when I touch you.”
“Yeah.” There’s nothing else to say. He’s right. “We
already talked about this.”
“I told you I won’t hurt you.” He pauses, so I nod. “And
you said that you might be,”—he clears his throat—
“attracted to me.”
This time my nod is curt, but my face is on fire.
 “I told you I’ll keep it professional. Do you believe me?”
His gaze is intense.
In a flare of rebellion, I want to ask him what would
happen if I didn’t want to keep it professional. But I keep
quiet.
“I need you to decide.” His voice is lower, more serious.
“Do you trust me or not?”
He doesn’t touch me, but I feel his gaze like a weight
pressing on my body. I swallow. I don’t know the answer to
that question. The girl I used to be was the one who trusted
people.
“It’s not you I don’t trust.” My voice is soft. I don’t trust
my judgment in people anymore, and I certainly don’t trust
how I feel around him.
His gaze drops to my hand, and he traces across it with
the softest finger. Then he meets my eyes again, and
there’s a challenge there. “Prove it.”
No, he didn’t… “I do that by riding a motorcycle with you?
That’s your plan?”
He shrugs. “I don’t really have a plan. I need a ride and
thought of you.”
I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t. That feels like
the truth. From what I can tell, Griff listens to his gut. When I
came into the gym that first day, he followed me. I don’t
think he knew exactly what he was going to say, but he did
it anyway. The night he realized I was afraid to walk alone,
he offered to go with me. He didn’t stop there, though. He
created an entire program to help when others didn’t want
to walk alone. As far as I can tell, he’s allowing campus
security to manage it and take most of the credit.
Cocking my head, I study him. His face is tight today, and
he’s holding tension in his shoulders. Something’s bothering
him. It surprises me that I notice. I’ve been so caught up in
my head… It’s been a long time since I’ve noticed someone
else’s distress. But that’s what I see now. There’s something
on Griff’s mind.
When he says he needs a ride, I think he’s being honest.
Which means the second part of his statement is probably
true as well: he thought of me.
He wants to go for a ride, and he wants to share it with
me. The impact of that realization hits me in the chest. I told
my mother that a friend needed me, but I thought I was
lying. Turns out, I wasn’t. Griff is my friend, and right now,
he needs me.
I make my decision. “All right, Motorcycle Man. Let’s do
this.”
He motions to my outfit. “You need to dress warmer, Red.
Do you have a leather jacket?”
It’s cold, but my skin feels hot under his gaze. “Did you
know that the chemicals that the leather industry uses to
process their products produce wastes in every form? They
pollute our soil, air, and water.” I’m rambling. “It’s one of
the most polluting industries.”
 “I take it that means you don’t have a leather jacket?” His
lips tilt up, and some of the tension leaves his face.
“No. I don’t even wear leather shoes.”
“I didn’t know you were such an environmentalist.” A cold
breeze rattles the porch, and he shifts closer, blocking the
brunt of it.
I swear I can feel the heat of him. “We should all do our
part,” I whisper.
He shrugs out of his jacket and holds it out to me. “You
should wear mine. Leather is the best for breaking the bite
of the wind, and it’ll protect your skin in the slim chance
that we’re thrown.”
I reach for it, even as more complaints about the leather
industry rest on my lips. They stay there, though, because
as I pull the jacket toward me, I catch a delicious waft of his
smell—spice and musk and the hint of fresh winter air. My
arms wrap around it, pulling it close. “Give me a few
minutes to change.”
I turn tail and hustle to my room. Closing the door behind
me, I toss the jacket on my bed and pace back and forth in
front of it, hands on my hips. If I’m going to press myself
against Griff Parker for any extended period, I’m going to
need some body armor.
I throw on a pair of jeans and my hiking boots then pull on
a long-sleeved shirt and cover it with a thick sweater. When
I push my arms into the sleeves of the jacket, I allow my
eyes to close. The fabric lining is still warm with his body
heat, and it sends a wave of stark awareness through me.
Alone in my room, I allow myself to bask in it, the feelings of
want and of the sheer bliss of being surrounded by the
warmth of another human.
I’ve always been a hugger, the friend who thrived on
physical connection. Now, my body comes alive, reminding
me how much that part of me is still inside, waiting. My skin
feels sensitive, and I’m glad I’m completely covered and
protected.
Griff is waiting downstairs, probably freezing now that I
have his coat. I throw open my closet and search through
the hangers quickly, dragging the most oversized sweatshirt
I own out. Then I tuck my ID, credit card, and phone into my
pockets before rushing back downstairs.
“Here,” I say, holding out the sweatshirt. “It’s the biggest
one I have.”
“What’s this?” He asks, taking it from me, holding it
against himself. It’s obvious that even the men’s large
Chesterboro University sweatshirt isn’t going to fit him. My
face heats.
“I stole your coat,” I offer dumbly. “Don’t you need
something?”
He laughs. It’s low and deep, like I surprised him. What
shocks me is that I don’t ever remember hearing him laugh
before. I immediately want to make him do it again. He
hands it back to me. “I have something else on the bike. But
thank you. You’re sweet.”
 “Right.” I nod, scowling as I head back inside and drop the
sweatshirt on the couch in the parlor. Sweet? I don’t want
him to think I’m sweet. That’s like cute. Sweet and cute are
for babies and puppies, not for me.
But when I consider what I want him to think about me,
my brain shorts and skitters away from that. I’m already
completely confused, and we haven’t even started our ride
yet.
Zipping his jacket up, I hurry out to join him next to his
bike. He’s got the seat up and pulls out a helmet. “This is
my spare.” I take it from him, and he reaches back into the
compartment there, unearths a canvas jacket, and slips it
on. When he sees that I’m not doing anything with the
helmet, he takes it from me, removes the straps from inside,
and holds it over my head. I help him guide it on, and he
fastens the strap under my chin. The gesture should have
made me feel like I child, but instead, I’m breathless as I
watch him. The way he handles me isn’t like a child—it’s as
though I’m something precious he’s been tasked with
protecting. It warms everything inside me, and I find myself
leaning into him.
He checks the strap to make sure that the helmet is
secure on my head then finishes zipping the jacket up to my
chin. He gives me a nod before throwing a long leg over the
seat of the bike. With a deft kick, he starts the engine, and it
purrs awake. He motions to a steel peg at his feet. “Step
here and climb on behind me.”
 I do as he instructs, and then I’m pressed fully against
him, my front to his back. I’m not expecting the angle of the
seat and how it tilts my butt back, projecting me forward. I
wrap my arms around him to hold myself steady and gasp.
He just feels so… good.
“You’re going to hold on exactly like that,” he yells back at
me so that I can hear him over the engine and through our
helmets. “When we turn, I’m going to need you to relax into
the turn. Don’t fight the bike, or it’ll set us off balance.”
I nod to let him know I heard him and because I don’t
think I can talk right now.
“If you need me, you can tap repeatedly on my chest,
okay?” He pats where my hands are clutching him. Again, I
nod. “Great. Then just hang on.”
With that, he raises his leg and accelerates away from the
house. I inhale a steadying breath and let it out slowly,
allowing myself to stay fully in my body with only the wind
and the man in front of me for company.

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 Griff

I TAKE A DEEP breath and push the bike faster, heading

away from Chesterboro. As my tires eat up the asphalt,
Penny clings to me. Now, with her pressed against my back,
I feel lighter than I have all week. When I decided to go out-
of-town today, I don’t know why she was the first person I
thought of. No—that’s a lie. During our training session, she
was antsy, fidgeting as if being in her own skin made her
itchy. That’s exactly how I felt earlier. I just thought she
would understand.
Besides, I’m not wrong. The bike is a great opportunity for
us to bond, to get past whatever awkwardness developed
between us the other day.
What I didn’t expect was how good she would feel, curled
up against me. She’s all soft curves, and they fit perfectly
against me. I’ve taken other girls on the bike, but even
though I always tell them they need to lean into the
movements, to follow my lead, I never felt like they truly did
what I asked. There’s always a reservation, always some
hesitation. But Penny against me is the first-time riding has
felt symbiotic, like I’m not sure where I end, and she begins.
I nearly groaned when she wrapped her arms around me.
Nothing has ever felt so good.
The way she looked at the bike when I first arrived… I was
sure she was a hard pass. I didn’t expect how relieved I
would be that she said yes.
I didn’t want to be alone, and I didn’t realize just how
much I wanted to be with her until then.
Friends, Parker. Friends.
I keep my word and stay on the back roads. I didn’t know
where I was going at first, but I end up driving us to the
Pig’s Tail. Slowing, I pick my way through the gravel parking
lot. Gravel and motorcycles can be an unpleasant
combination.
When I park and kill the engine, Penny says, “Where are
we?”
I laugh. Of course, she wouldn’t know. “Never been to the
Pig, huh?” I’m not surprised. It’s a dive bar far enough from
Chesterboro that she would have to look for it to find her
way there. It attracts bikers, truckers, and locals who don’t
want anyone to bother them. I’ve only been here once with
guys from Chesterboro—last year for Mikey Dischenski’s
twenty-first birthday, and only then because the guys
wanted to watch Hannah Marshall sing. That’s when she
met Cord, our former hockey captain, and they started
dating.
Hannah grew up in Chesterboro, too, and is a year older
than Penny and me, though Penny probably didn’t know her.
She didn’t travel in the fancy upper-class social crowds,
either. But Hannah knows Josh, the owner of this place, and
Josh went to school with my brother Jake. When Josh
graduated from Chesterboro High, he took over managing
the bar to help his mom, and he still runs it.
Hannah, stage name Goldie, is a big deal now. She opened
for the Dazed Zealots on their last tour. I’m happy for her for
getting out of Chesterboro—from a trailer park to a tour bus.
It doesn’t get much more successful than that.
“I cannot say that I have been here.” She pulls the helmet
off her head. “Is it safe?”
“Not only is it safe, but Josh’s mom makes these pretzel
bites you need to try.” The food at the Pig isn’t much to
write home about, but there are a few things they do right.
The pretzels are on that list.
“We came here for pretzels?” She twists her red hair and
drops the makeshift tail over her shoulder, offering me a
skeptical look. “There’s a Pretzel Factory right outside of
town.”
“These are better.” I offer her my hand, and she swings
her leg over the bike. She stares warily at the place, and I
try to see it from her point of view. It’s looking a bit run
down, but I can’t remember if it’s always looked like that or
if it’s a new shabbiness. “Come on. We’re getting them to
go.”
Her brows shoot up. “We aren’t staying?”
I shake my head. “We can eat them back at your sorority
house.” I can’t picture her sitting at the bar at the Pig’s Tail.
We walk in and stand at the bar while the bartender runs
in the back to get Josh. When he comes out, there’s some
handshaking and a “how the hell have you been, you
fucking punk” from him, which makes me laugh. I introduce
Penny, and she greets him like we’re in a ballroom instead
of a run-down bar. Then again, the inside of the place is in
much better shape than the outside. Apparently, this is
where Josh has focused his money.
After we say our hellos, I place my order and tack on a few
bottles of water. I tell Josh to bag it all up because we’re on
the bike, and he nods. The entire time, Penny studies the
place thoughtfully. When we have our order, I slap Josh on
the back and promise to stop by soon before I graduate.
Penny thanks him for having us, as if we’re in his living room
and not his place of work. When she turns to leave, Josh
points at her and salutes me. I don’t have any way to tell
him it’s not like that because I’m following Penny out the
door.
In the parking lot, I catch up to her, and we walk side by
side to the bike. As I open the seat, she stares at the Pig.
Finally, she says, “Can we come back here? Another time, I
mean. You told Josh that you would. So, when you do, would
you mind if I come?”
I pause, my fingers on the seat. “You want me to bring you
to the Pig?”
“Is it fun?”
I study her face. As always, she’s prettier than I know
what to do with. “In its way. But why would you want to
come here with me?”
Her mouth tightens.
“Don’t get me wrong. It’s fun. There are bands and
singers. Sometimes they do karaoke. But it’s not your usual
style.”
“What’s my usual style, Griff?” She folds her arms over
her chest. Everything about her stance screams prissy and
uppity.
I’ve been on edge today. I’ve probably been unsettled
since I found out that my father needed surgery. It’s the only
thing I can use to excuse what comes out of my mouth.
“Come on, Penny.” I laugh. “Let’s not pretend that we’re not
from completely different backgrounds. Hell, we might as
well have grown up in different towns. Yours has money.
Mine did not.”
I immediately regret it, especially when she stiffens and
her chin tilts up. “So, it’s fine to bring me here when no one
is around, but it’s not cool to hang out with me here when
it’s crowded.” She glances back at the bar. “You got the food
to go. You didn’t even think I’d fit in when no one was here,
did you? Interesting. I’m glad we cleared that up.” She takes
the bag with our pretzels, places it in the seat compartment,
and closes the swing hatch.
“That’s not what I meant.” I reach for her arm, but she
pulls it away, glaring at me. “It’s just that… I can’t see you
here. That’s all.” Shit, that probably didn’t make it any
better.
“You know what, Griff?” She reaches for her helmet. “For
someone who accuses me of being stuck up, you do a whole
lot of judging.”
She sounds bratty, every inch the rich girl I’ve been
accusing her of being. But as she turns her head, I catch the
hurt in her eyes, and it flattens me. I reach out to stop her
from putting the helmet on. “Wait. Red, I’m sorry. You’re
right. That was a real dickhead thing to say.”
I wait, and she nods, all high and mighty again. “Yeah. It
was. You sounded like an asshole.”
I laugh. I’ve never been called an asshole with so much
class. “Right. It’s just… I’ve known you forever, and I’ve
always assumed you were one way. Now that I’m getting to
know you…” I shrug helplessly.
“You realize you were holding socioeconomic prejudices?”
she offers, her eyebrows raised.
“Is that even a thing?”
“I don’t know. I might have just made it up.” She shrugs.
“It should be, though. Then again, a lot of the rich kids I
know can be jerks. But not-as-well-off people can be jerks,
too. No one subset of humans has the monopoly on being
assholes.”
“You’re right,” I say solemnly. “There are definitely
assholes all over.”
She laughs.
“It’s not only that, though…” I rub my jaw. “It’s been a
rough couple of days for me.”
She tilts her head. “Yeah?” She waits, giving me the space
to say more, and I suddenly want to tell her what’s on my
mind.
“My dad,” I start, then realize that I need to swallow
because my throat is dry. “He’s going to have surgery this
week.”
“Oh shit, Griff.” She reaches for my hand and squeezes it.
I doubt she even realizes she did it. Her eyes are full of
sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”
I lick my lips, shaking my head, and try for a casual smile.
“The doctor said that it’s a common procedure. He doesn’t
expect any issues. He said that overall, my father is in good
shape, with no other risk factors that might cause
complications.” I recite all the facts that I’ve been using to
calm myself about the surgery. Out loud, they sound pretty
convincing.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you’re not worried.” She
glances down to where she’s still holding my hand and
drops the contact. “I mean, he’s your father.”
 “Right.” I clear my throat. “That’s exactly it. Anyway, I’m
just telling you that’s why I’m off, and I probably took it out
on you. And I’m sorry.” I wave back toward the Pig. “I didn’t
even know this is where I was going until we got here, but
Josh lost his father a few years ago…” I didn’t even realize
that had been on my mind, but after I say it, I recognize it
had.
“No, I get it. Seriously.” She shrugs. “I mean, you still
sounded like an asshole, but I’ll forgive you this once.”
“You have a potty mouth,” I accuse her.
“Yeah, well, you have a potty mouth too,” she fires back.
“I do.” I grin at her. “That’s why I mentioned it. I like it on
you.”
“Well, I don’t care.” She sniffs, and I laugh. “There’s no
reason guys should be able to say what they want, and girls
shouldn’t.”
I lift my hands. “Whoa, I just told you I’m not a prejudiced
dick. I wasn’t making gender assumptions either, Red. But I
bet Mama Hampshire has a problem with your spicy
language.”
The smile she gives me is angelic. “Mama Hampshire
doesn’t know I use spicy language. With Mama Hampshire,
the less she knows, the better.”
I bark out a laugh.
She rolls her eyes. “Seriously, though. I’m pretty sure that
every girl, no matter their background, learns when to speak
and when to hold her tongue. That stuff is tattooed on our
brains from an early age. If it isn’t, I’m happy for those girls.
It’d be nice to always just say what’s on your mind.”
I study her and wonder just how much of what she puts
out to the world is an act and how much she holds back. As I
stare into her upturned face, with her dancing eyes and
fiery hair, I want to know everything that’s hiding inside her.
Right now, I mostly want to cover her full lips and find out
how she tastes. Does she sigh when she’s aroused? Is she
quiet or loud? Is she silent, or does she talk dirty in bed too?
She must sense something, because her mouth falls open,
and her tongue flits out to wet her lips. The action—
completely innocent, I’m sure—has me smothering a moan.
My dick’s awake, and I shift my weight, trying to relieve the
pressure there, cursing myself.
Whatever’s going on here is not friendship talking, and
whatever this is, it’s completely off limits.
I step back, putting much-needed space between us, and
break our eye-contact. “You know what? There’s no reason
we can’t eat the pretzels here. Did you want to go in?”
“Why don’t we take these back and have them at the
house instead?” She offers. “You owe me a training session,
Parker.”
“Sounds good.” I tuck her helmet on her head, smoothing
her hair away from her eyes. Over the past hour, Penny has
accepted my touch. I don’t point it out to her, but when I
squeeze her hand, she squeezes back. I try to convince
myself that I’m happy because it will make training easier,
but I’m a dirty liar. “So, we’re friends, right?”
It might be my imagination, but I feel like her smile slips
the slightest bit. It’s only for a moment, though, and then
she grins back, all brightness. “Absolutely. Friends.”
As we climb on and head out of the parking lot, I feel the
best that I’ve felt since my father’s doctor’s appointment on
Thursday.

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 Penny

AFTER OUR MOTORCYCLE RIDE, training with Griff is easier,

at least from a touching perspective. I guess that death
gripping him while hanging on to the back of a speeding
motorcycle changed my feelings about that. I figure after I
trusted him with my life like that, I can get over whatever
else was holding me back and let him help me.
But training with him isn’t easy. Griff is a workhorse. I
didn’t realize when I asked him to help how single-minded
he was. I don’t know why I didn’t guess. He’s a division one
athlete, playing on one of the best college hockey teams in
the country. Not only that, but he only started skating four
years ago. For someone to excel at something at that level,
he would need to be extremely driven.
I try to remember that and admire his drive when my
entire body aches from the training.
I’m learning things, though. By the end of the first week,
I’ve mastered some self-defense skills. He’s also started
going over the basics of jiu-jitsu. It’s when we grapple—
breaks, stances, and guards—that I realize how hard it’s
going to be to do this with him.
Touching Griff, holding him, being in the vulnerable
positions with him we get into… My body is completely
aware of him all the time. But in the beginning, panic
tempered that awareness. Now, after the bike ride, all I have
is the slicing attraction.
I keep telling myself that it’s only this hard for me
because we’ve decided that we’re just friends. I try to
convince myself that I only want him because I can’t have
him. Maybe that could have been true, except I learn over
those days that I truly like him. I’m not always an easy
student, but he never gets frustrated with me. In fact, saints
don’t have Griff’s patience. Add in his dry sense of humor
and the way he’s constantly doing little things to look out
for everyone around him, and it’s impossible not to like him.
But liking him while being attracted to him isn’t helping
me keep him friend zoned.
Violet doesn’t get a Delta Alpha self-defense class
together until the following week, the night before Griff’s
dad’s surgery. Still, he arrives for the lesson right after
hockey practice.
As always, seeing him makes my heart flip. But even
though he’s gorgeous, right from the shower at the rink, I
notice the dark circles under his eyes. “Hey. You okay?”
 He attempts a smile. “I’m great. Ready to teach some girls
how to kick some ass?”
I’ve only really known him for a couple of weeks, but I
know enough to recognize when he’s lying. I snag his
sleeve, stopping him. “Hey. Really. How’s your dad?”
He smooths his wet hair back, allowing his concern to
cloud his expression. “He had a scare last night. Called Jake
to take him to the hospital, and they admitted him.”
“Oh, no.” I step closer. All I want is to reach for him, and
the urge to hug him, to hold him, is a physical presence in
me. But I’m afraid that stretches over the friend line, so I
hold myself back. Instead, I squeeze his forearm. “How is
he?”
“They got him stabilized, and he’s good until tomorrow.
They moved the surgery up, and he’ll go first in the
morning, as soon as his doctor gets there.”
“That’s good, then.”
“Yeah.” The way he says it, though, doesn’t sound like an
earlier surgical time is much consolation to him.
“Listen, if you can’t do this tonight, I totally get it. The
girls will understand.”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. I promised I’d come,
and besides, it’ll keep me occupied. The other option is
going back to the apartment, where I’ll stare at the walls
and not sleep all night.”
“Okay. If you’re sure. But if you decide to cut it short—”
 “I won’t, Pen. I got this.” He heads down to the basement,
and I scowl at him before following.
As he gets set up, I take in the crowd. There are six girls,
plus Violet and me. That means that Griff won’t need to pair
up with me for this. I squash a flare of disappointment. After
all, that means that he’ll be able to go between groupings
and help everyone. Still, I can’t help but feel let down.
Griff is a consummate professional. In minutes, he’s got us
paired off by height and weight, so we can practice on
people our own size first. As he did when we first started
training together, he explains how the number one objective
when being attacked is to get away. He impresses again that
it’s not about being a superhero—it’s about staying safe.
When he seems to feel like he’s said enough about that, he
calls me up, and we show a few basic breaks.
It’s while he’s explaining that we should target our
attackers’ weaknesses—eyes, groin, toes, throat—and how
to use the hardest parts of us to hit them I notice the two
sophomores whispering. I watch them as Griff gets into
position for me to show how to use the side of my elbow to
twist into an attacker’s solar plexus. The two of them are
still talking and giggling.
I pause, stepping forward and away from him. “Sorry,
Griff. Hang on.” I walk over to the sophomores and stand
right in front of them. They’re wide-eyed, staring at me.
“Mel, Lacey… is something that I’m doing funny?”
 Both shake their heads. I step closer. I’m not a tall girl, but
the past couple of weeks of training have taught me it
doesn’t matter if Lacey’s got a few inches on me or that Mel
has a couple of pounds. If I wanted to take either of them to
the ground, I know how to do that now. It seems like a
stupid thing to care about, because I’m not in danger here
and neither of these girls is a threat. But just that
knowledge fills me with the confidence to say what I need to
say.
“If you’re not going to pay attention, you don’t need to be
here.” I lean closer and lower my voice. “Griff isn’t here for
your entertainment. If you’re going to disrespect him,
leave.” I stare them down until they both nod.
Behind them, Violet’s brows lower, and there’s an
unspoken question on her face. I shake my head. She
doesn’t need to get involved. I handled it. I rejoin Griff at the
front of the room.
“Everything okay?” he asks under his breath.
“Absolutely.” I take my position, then raise my voice. “We
were just showing how to break free if someone grasps your
arm.”
The rest of the lesson goes smoothly. Mel and Lacey
behave, and I think everyone learns something. When it’s
over, two girls stop Griff to ask him some questions, and Mel
and Lacey find me.
“We’re sorry, Penny.” Mel squeezes my hand. “You’re
right. We shouldn’t have been messing around.” She
glances to where Griff is standing, in conversation with a
senior. “It’s just… I don’t know how you don’t get constantly
distracted when you’re working with him. He’s fucking
gorgeous.”
I swear, there are stars in her eyes, and a wave of
possessiveness washes over me along with the urge to
growl at Mel, a girl I’ve never had a problem with. I glance
at Griff. They’re right—not only is he good-looking, but here,
he’s in his element, confident and calm. When he’s training,
some layers of reserve he usually hides behind fall away,
and it’s easier to see the generous and genuinely helpful
person under that.
“Yes, but that’s not all he is. He came to help. He helps
me.” I clasp my elbow in one hand. “Most of all, I hate
double standards. You guys would hate it if a bunch of guys
watched you give a presentation on something you’re
knowledgeable about, something you really care about, and
all they could do is stare at your tits. You’d feel like they
weren’t taking you seriously. Just… don’t make him feel like
that. He is my friend.”
A few feet away, Griff is watching us as he pats the back
of his neck with a towel. A wave of longing hits me. It’s the
truth. That’s all there is between us, but I can’t help
imagining what it would be like if there was more.
As my eyes find his, I allow myself to think about what it
would really be like to touch him like that, to have him touch
me. I’ve felt him while we grapple, but what would it be like
to explore him, to taste him?
I break our eye contact, returning my gaze to Mel and
Lacey, who both look properly chastised in front of me. I
smile at them. “Are you guys going to come back?”
“Is that okay?”
“Definitely. This is important.” Both glance at the scar on
my cheek, and for the first time, I don’t flinch.
“Then we’ll be back next week.” They each lean forward
and hug me, and I let them, even lean into it. It feels good,
accepting their contact.
“I’m glad,” I say, and it’s true. I feel lighter, stronger, and
more like the old me than I have in months. After they head
upstairs, I’m left alone with Griff.
He joins me, his hands on his hips. “You told those girls
not to treat me like a piece of meat.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “I did.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “What if I like being treated like a
piece of meat?”
“Do you?” I ask. He’s standing in front of me, all tall and
muscled, close enough for me touch him. The heat in his
eyes captures me.
“Only in the right circumstances,” he murmurs, but as
quickly as I wonder what that means, he looks away,
clearing his throat. His voice is stronger when he speaks
again. “I should get going so I can call the hospital to see
how Pop’s making out tonight.” He returns to his bag,
finishes packing up, then zips it and throws it over his
shoulder. When he glances at me again, his expression is
mild, and he nudges his head toward the stairs.
Nodding, I follow him up. Needing to fill the silence, I say,
“Thanks for coming. The girls really appreciate this.”
“Even the flirty ones?” he offers over his shoulder,
teasing.
“Especially the flirty ones.” I roll my eyes.
At the door, he pauses. “I was wondering…” He buries his
hands in his pockets. “The guys are going bowling on
Saturday. It’s a bunch of people. Ash’s friend from high
school knows Judd Jones…”
“The movie star?” He said it so casually, I need to be sure.
“Yeah. So apparently, that guy is coming into town, and he
wants to meet Ash because they went to school together or
something. Anyway, lots of people are going. I was just
wondering if you might want to come with us.”
“You want me to go bowling with you.” Tightness spreads
through my chest. Lots of people are going…
“Well, yeah. We’re friends, right? Friends go bowling
together.”
“I mean, yeah. They do, I guess.” I rub my suddenly
sweaty palms against my pant legs. “I just… bowling… I’m
not sure I can go bowling with you, Griff.” I search for the
words to explain what being in a large group feels like. The
panic and claustrophobia.
 But maybe it wouldn’t be that scary. A bowling alley is a
big place, and there would be space around. It’s not like a
party or something, where people would be constantly
touching me.
“Oh, sure. Right. No problem.” He steps away, and his
face is closed off. “We’ll keep things professional.”
It takes me a second to register what he means. “Oh, shit.
No. I mean, not that I can’t go with you. That’s not it. It’s
that I can’t go with you.” Great, that cleared it up. I inhale,
blowing out the breath slowly. “It’s not you. I don’t like to be
in crowds. That’s all. Where there’s a lot of people around.”
“Oh. I see.” Understanding dawns, and that makes my
embarrassment increase.
“I’ll text you, okay?” I attempt a bright smile. “I’ll let you
know when I check in about your dad. What time is his
surgery?”
“It’s at seven in the morning. But we have a game in
Boston tomorrow night. We’ll be on our way there before
he’s even out of recovery.” A shadow crosses his features.
“I’ll have to call my brother to get the scoop.” His mouth
thins. I can tell it bothers him to be away, but it would
bother him to let his team down too. “My brother and sister-
in-law will be there. He won’t be able to have a lot of
visitors.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself that
he’s doing the right thing.
On impulse, I lift on my toes and wrap my arms around his
neck, pulling him into a hug. As always, he feels wonderful
against me, and when his arms encircle me, I sigh. I meant
for the hug to comfort him, but with his body pressed into
mine, I’m excruciatingly aware of every inch of him.
“I’ll be thinking of you,” I offer, and it’s not a lie. It seems
I’m always thinking of him. I pull away, desperate to keep
things light and friendly, like he wants. “I’ll check in
tomorrow,” I repeat.
He nods. “Okay. Goodnight, Penny.”
“Goodnight, Griff.” I force myself to close the door behind
him.

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 Griff

I GET THE TEXT from Jake that Pop is out of surgery and in
recovery as we cross into Connecticut. He still hasn’t spoken
to the doctor. I let out a breath I’d been holding for too long.
He’s in recovery. Thank God.
We’re outside of Boston when he texts again. Call when
you get there.
I ask if everything’s okay. He doesn’t respond. My stomach
knots up. As soon as we get to the hotel, I get right off the
bus, step out of everyone’s way, and call him. “How is he?” I
ask him as soon as it connects.
“There were some complications.” Jake sounds exhausted.
“His doctor said that during the operation, he had a stroke.”
The blood rushes to my ears. “A stroke.”
“Yeah. He’s stable now. But he’ll need to be in the hospital
a little longer, and they don’t know the extent of the
damage.” He exhales. “We might be in for a long recovery,
and he might never regain full function. We’ll know more in
the next day or so.”
It feels like he punched me in the stomach. Jesus Christ.
My father is a beast. He’d been a middleweight champ in his
twenties. I’ve never seen him take it easy, even when he
was in pain. I can’t imagine him not being that powerhouse
any longer.
“Emma and I helped him talk to an attorney last week to
make sure that his will was updated, in case something
happened. I’m his power of attorney, but the gym…” He
pauses. “It’s in trust for us. We oversee it until he’s back on
his feet. If he gets back on his feet.”
“What?”
“The gym is our responsibility now. You, me, and Colin.”
“Shit.” The guys are still filing off the bus, and I step away
so they can’t overhear me.
“Yeah,” Jake says again. There’s not much else to say right
now. “I guess I always assumed that we’d take care of it, but
I wasn’t prepared…”
“No.” My father has had a stroke, and now, my brothers
and I need to take over the gym. “I don’t know much about
the business end of the place. Do you?”
“No. Pop prefers to handle it.”
“That’s a nice way to say he’s a control freak.”
Jake huffs out a laugh. “We’ll have to look into it. Hey,
have you talked to Colin? I’ve left him a few messages, but
he hasn’t called me back. Even his texts have been short.”
 “Me too.” When our younger brother is upset about
something, he avoids it. Not exactly the healthiest coping
mechanism. “I think he’s in north Jersey Sunday night.
Maybe I should run over and track down the prodigal son.
Make sure he’s okay.” Colin might avoid talking about
things, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel them. My
guess is that he’s freaking out.
Jake chuckles. “Let me know what he says. Are you okay?”
“Christ, I don’t know.” I run a hand over my hair. “It’s just
a shock, that’s all. Should I catch a train home?”
“No. He’s in ICU for the night, and they don’t allow a lot of
visitors. When do you get back from Boston tomorrow?”
“Early afternoon.” This is a one-off game. Our bus is
supposed to pull out at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.
“Check in when you get in town.”
“I will.” I press my palm to my forehead, staring up at the
sky. “Hang in there. And call if you need me. I can get right
home.”
“Will do.” We disconnect, and I stand in the cold parking
lot, feeling as if my life has turned upside down.
I can’t wrap my brain around it. My father… in the
hospital. It’s foolish, but I always assumed he’d be at the
gym, in the office or bossing the fighters around. Now it
sounds like it’s up to my brothers and me to manage the
place. I grew up learning to box, grapple, and fight there. It’s
as much part of our family as any of us, but it’s no secret
that I plan to move to a city—New York, Philadelphia. I’m
even looking in Boston. The gym would be something I
visited on trips home for birthdays and holidays, not
something that I would oversee in any meaningful way.
Life doesn’t always accommodate previous plans, though.
Colin needs to figure that out too. Driving to New Jersey
after this trip to Boston isn’t part of what I hoped to do this
weekend, but I guess that’s the best option. Jake won’t want
to leave town, not with Emma pregnant and Pop still in the
hospital.
I pocket my phone before I head over to the hatch on the
bus and grab my bag. It’s the last one to be collected. I
trudge into the lobby, exhaustion weighing on me.
In my pocket, my phone buzzes. Thinking it might be Jake,
I fish it out, only to find a text from Penny.
If you still want to bowl tomorrow, I would love to go.
Thank you for inviting me. Sorry I’m a weirdo sometimes.
She follows that up with a gif of a girl with her eyes crossed
and a smiley-face emoji.
I pause in the middle of the lobby, and a smile creeps over
my face. Dork. That gets me a bombardment of nerdy gifs.
Stop! I finally type, laughing. But I sober as I say: I actually
can’t go tomorrow now. Her typing dots appear, and even
before she answers, I continue. I need to go visit my father
when I get back tomorrow.
Is everything okay?
No, but I can’t bring myself to say that. If I put it out there,
it’ll make it real. It will be. Just changed my plans. But I’m
going to watch my brother fight on Sunday night. Do you
want to come with me to that? Even as I hit send, I realize
that there’s a high probability that she’ll say no. I try to
brace myself for that disappointment. But facing my
brother, this entire situation, would be better if she was with
me. I truly enjoy her company. When I agreed to help her
learn to defend herself, that’s not a twist I would have
predicted.
Her dots disappear. I wait. After a long moment they
reappear. Where?
That’s not a no. It’s in north Jersey, outside of New York.
Then I add, there will be people there. But we’ll try to stay
out of the crowd.
Yes. Her response comes so fast that it doesn’t even give
the thinking dots.
My smile almost hurts. Great. I’ll text you tomorrow.
Sounds good. Good luck tonight! She follows that with a
thumbs-up emoji. Something else I’m learning about Penny
—she really loves gifs and emojis.
I chuckle as I head off to find the room I’m sharing with
Linc.

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 Penny

I DON’T KNOW WHAT to wear to an MMA fight.

There must be some sort of dress code, but I don’t know
what it is. I almost asked Violet yesterday when we went to
the bowling alley, but I didn’t want to get her hopes up
about Griff. Yes, I’m going with him, but we’re only going as
friends. It’s not a date.
Bowling was fun. When Griff canceled, I almost didn’t go.
But Violet and some of the other girls were going, too, and
she convinced me to tag along. I’m glad she did. I knew
almost everyone there, so it wasn’t uncomfortable, and I got
to meet Judd Jones. Still, I didn’t stay long, but I considered
the outing a success, and it gave me the confidence to think
that I could manage going to the fight tomorrow without a
problem.
I decide on jeans, ankle boots, and a warm sweater. I
doubt I’ll want to take a jacket inside an arena. As I wait for
Griff to call, I force myself to manage expectations. He
invited me to the bowling alley, but that was a group thing.
When he texted me last night, he thanked me for offering to
come to New Jersey with him, and that doesn’t sound like a
date—it sounds like a favor. Accepting that going to the fight
together isn’t a date is more disappointing than I expected. I
like the idea of going on a date alone with him more than I
thought I would.
What if there could be more? Would that be such a bad
thing? I’m certainly attracted to him. More than that, I like
him. And I’m sure I catch him looking at me sometimes like
we could be more than friends. After Teddy, I thought that
would scare me, but it doesn’t.
Teddy and Griff are nothing alike.
I’m all nervous energy when he picks me up, and by the
time I slide into the front seat of his late-model Nissan, I
ramble. “How far away is this arena? Your brother does
MMA, right? Is that what this fight is?” I take a breath. “How
long has he been competing?”
“Hey. Good to see you, too.” He offers me a wink as we
pull out, and I laugh at him.
“Sorry. I’m really nervous.” Good Lord, what is the matter
with me and my diarrhea of the mouth? “I mean, not
nervous, necessarily… but, well, we’ve never been alone
like this. Not for this long and with nothing to do.”
“I’ll be driving.” He points to the road in front of us. I get
the impression that I amuse him.
I stick my tongue out at him. “You know what I mean.”
 “We spend a lot of time together, Penny, and we have lots
of conversations.” He casts a sideways glance at me. “You
don’t have to be nervous.”
Now I’m afraid he thinks I’m scared to be alone with him,
and that makes me even more anxious. Instead of
explaining that I’m nervous mostly because his gorgeous
big body makes me hot and bothered, I change the subject.
“How’s your father, by the way? Is he feeling better?”
“He’s still in the hospital, but he’s better than yesterday.”
His mouth tightens, and he says nothing else.
Desperate to fill the silence, I offer, “I hope he feels better
every day.”
He nods, still silent.
I hurry on. “So, what are your plans after college?”
“Do you want me to answer that first or all of the
questions you had about Colin?”
I exhale. I sound like a babbling idiot. Definitely out of
practice with talking to good-looking guys in relaxed
situations. “Why don’t you start wherever you feel like?”
He takes pity on me. He tells me about his plans for after
school—a job in finance. We talk about how he’s had a few
interviews in Philadelphia and New York, but he has had no
bites yet. It seems to make him uncomfortable, so we move
on to my plans to go to law school, and he asks targeted
questions about the application process and the type of law
I plan to do.
 I don’t know all the answers, but he never seems to care—
he only files the information away. It’s refreshing to talk to
him about my dreams and goals. To Griff, there is nothing
strange or unlikely about me going into law. In fact, he
seems impressed. No one in my family thinks it’s anything
to be excited about, and Teddy hadn’t. The list of what
should have been red flags just keeps growing.
Griff answers my questions about Colin. Apparently, his
brother has been fighting in UFC matches professionally for
a couple of years. When I ask anything else about his family,
though, he deflects. Instead, he answers with questions
about my father’s law firm, about what my mother does,
and about my sister.
The ride into north Jersey feels short because we talk the
entire time, and before I realize we’re there, we’re pulling
into the parking lot. It’s not a huge venue, but a basketball
team played here at one point. We hustle inside.
Inside, it’s different from what I expect it to be. Anytime
I’ve been in an arena like this, it’s been poorly lit. Right now,
the lights are high, illuminating two octagon-shaped cages
with two different fights going on.
What I don’t expect is that one fight is between two
women. They don’t look much bigger than me, but the
punches they’re throwing are serious. Across the room,
Griff’s brother takes the ring. I do my best to pay attention,
but my eyes continue to get drawn back to the women in
the other match.
 “Can anyone do that?”
“What?” Griff’s eyes stay on his brother as he grapples
with his opponent.
“Compete. Like those women.” I point to the ring in front
of me. Their hair is pulled back into braids, probably to be
sure that their opponent doesn’t use it for leverage. Their
fighting is violent and brutal, but these women are in the
same weight range, so there’s no noticeable advantage. It’s
a competition between two equal opponents, nothing like
what I had to live through with Teddy. This is fair, everything
about it stripped down to the most basic kind of human
interaction.
“You need to sign up for tournaments. Why?”
“I don’t know. I just think… maybe someday, I’d like to try
that. Not now, obviously,” I hurry to add. “But if I keep
practicing.”
“You do?” I glance up, and Griff is staring down at me,
surprise on his face. “Well, I think you could do it. I’ve never
seen anyone pick up moves as quickly as you do. You’re so
naturally athletic that you make your blocks look like
dancing.”
The compliments sing through my body. He’s never said
anything like that before, and the fact that it’s unprovoked
makes me sure that the praise is genuine. “I never had any
interest in competing.” He shrugs. “I like team sports,
cooperation and working together. I like when everyone has
a role and needs to do their part to achieve a goal.” He
nudges his head toward Colin. “My brother has always been
the one who prefers to work alone. Individual sports were
always the best for him.”
“I never played sports. My mom said it wasn’t ladylike.” I
used to tell myself that it didn’t bother me, but it did. Sports
meant friends, strength, competition. It always looked like
so much fun, and I hated missing out.
“That’s bullshit.” He motions to the women in the octagon
below us. “Strong women are the sexiest kind.” His eyes
find mine, and there’s no mistaking the heat that I find
there. “And you’re a strong woman, Red. You could be great
at this.”
I don’t know if it’s the heat in his eyes or the compliments
or just that he has a kind of faith in me that no one has ever
had, but at that moment there is nothing that could have
stopped me from kissing him.
As my arms go around his neck, I pause and search his
eyes. He’s surprised, but there’s heat there as well. I wait
for him to stop me. When he doesn’t, I press my mouth
against his and inhale his gasp. He stills against me. For a
moment, I wonder if I haven’t completely miscalculated.
There’s been all that talk about friendship and professional
relationships and us coming from completely different
backgrounds. That’s always bothered him more than me.
But then his hands are on my back, and he’s pressing me
against him. He tilts his head into my kiss. The way his
mouth responds, I assume that none of those past
arguments matter to him right now, either.
I’ve caught myself wondering what it would be like to kiss
Griff for weeks now. Would he take his time, be rough, slow,
soft? I spent a lot of time thinking about it, but nothing I
imagined is as good as the reality of him.
His kiss is like him, full of heat and single-minded
intensity. Sometimes Griff can be reserved, almost shy, but
there is nothing tentative about this kiss. Where our mouths
meet is combustion. His hands slide up my back to cup the
nape of my neck. With insistent pressure, he angles my
head for better access to my mouth, and his tongue delves
inside.
This isn’t a sweet kiss—it’s an exploration. I feel it in the
way he captures me in his hands, the way he curves his
body to accommodate mine. In my experience, kisses have
expectations. There are ways each participant expects the
other to react. Aggressive, submissive, coy… the list goes
on. But Griff’s kiss demands I hold nothing back, and in
return, he offers me everything.
My body comes alive against him, as if it’s been waiting
forever to find his half.
As quickly as it begins, he pulls away. My arms are still
outstretched, reaching for him, but he’s shaking his head.
“Wait, now.” He holds his hand between us. “You need my
help, and we can be friends. But this… you… we shouldn’t
be…” He rubs the side of his mouth, backing away from me
a few steps. “Penny…”
“I kissed you,” I fire at him and drop my hands to my
waist.
“I saw,” a guy standing next to us chimes in. “She kissed
you, man.”
“Thank you.” I nod at him approvingly. “See?”
Griff stares knives at our helpful neighbor. The guy lifts his
hands in a “my bad” gesture, backing away a step or two.
When Griff returns his gaze to me, he’s in control again. I
want to stomp my foot. “I need to go find my brother. Would
you like to come with me?”
I nod.
As I follow him down the stands, my bravado leaves me. I
must have played that all wrong. But it didn’t feel wrong
when I was doing it. In fact, it felt amazing. Better than
amazing. That might have been the best kiss I’ve ever been
a part of. But obviously, he thinks it’s a mistake.
My stomach sickens as I trail down the stairs behind him.

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 Griff

THERE ARE ENOUGH PEOPLE around that we are too busy

weaving through the crowd to talk. That’s good, because it
gives me a few minutes to get the chaos in my head
straight.
By “chaos,” I mean uncontrollable lust.
Holy fucking Christ, what the hell was that kiss? As I ask
an event coordinator where I can find my brother after his
match, I can’t help but replay the hot way Penny pressed
herself against me and how sexy it was as she alternated
between demanding from me and giving to me.
I’d convinced myself that I had my feelings for her under
control—if not my feelings, at least our expectations. We
talked about it and agreed on what was best—or at least I
thought we had. But when she threw herself into my arms,
all of that went out the window.
A few weeks ago, Penny couldn’t even manage the most
basic contact, but she hasn’t ceased to surprise me in every
way. Every assumption I’ve made about her—about her
opinions, her prejudices, her limitations—has been wrong. If
she wasn’t upsetting all the equilibrium in my life, I would
only have respect for her. She’s a tough cookie inside a
compact, sexy package.
The question is… now what? That kiss changes
everything. It busts down all the lines I drew between us.
Not only did it fly in the face of friends/professional/just-for-
money conversations I’ve had with her, but there’s no way
I’m going to forget the way she felt in my arms.
I need to see my brother. That task buys me some time.
When we reach the dressing area, I point to where he’s
standing. “I’m going to go say hello. Why don’t you stay
here? I have something I need to discuss with him.” For the
first time since we kissed, I meet her gaze. The uncertainty
there sends ice through my stomach. “Penny?”
She nods, her eyes wide. “Sure. Absolutely. I’ll wait right
here.” She sits in a folding chair, but her back is so straight,
she could receive the queen.
“Penny? About that…” I clear my throat, motioning toward
the stands. “About what just happened…” I search for words
that will put everything back into perspective and help me
regain some control of this situation.
She squares her shoulders. “Your brother. You came to talk
to him.” She motions across the room.
I nod. Right. I leave her there, even though every instinct
in me tells me something is very wrong. I don’t know how to
fix whatever’s messed up, though, so I head toward Colin,
who’s toweling off the sweat from his match.
My brother catches sight of me and rushes forward to fold
me in a hug. He stinks, but I don’t care. When we pull away,
I study his face. “You look like you got into a fight.”
“Ha. Never heard that one before.” He punches me in the
shoulder, and I stifle my wince. He has a serious right jab.
“Thanks for coming to see me.”
“You didn’t give me much choice. That’s what happens
when your brother punks out and doesn’t call you back,
especially when your father has angioplasty and a stroke.” I
inject censure in my tone. I’ve known Colin my entire life,
and I understand where he’s coming from. But that doesn’t
mean that these running-away-from-his-problems spells
aren’t irritating sometimes.
Colin has the decency to look guilty. “Jake filled me in.” He
glances away and reaches for the ice pack on the chair next
to him. “I texted him yesterday.”
“You texted him? We told you about the surgery last week.
In a week and a half, the best you can offer is ‘I texted
him?’”
Colin’s mouth tightens. He grabs his water bottle and
squirts some into his mouth.
I see the stubborn glint on his face, so I soften my tone.
“You disappeared, Colin. That’s not cool. Especially after
yesterday. Pop had a stroke. He’s going to need extensive
rehab.” When I visited the hospital yesterday, the doctors
were cautiously optimistic. They expected he could regain
most of his mobility, but it would take some time. “Where
the hell have you been? Jake and I have been trying to get
in touch with you. I’ve left you voicemails, texts, and all
we’ve gotten back from you is the briefest of responses.” I
shake my head. “You know how fucked up that is.”
Colin drops the ice pack on the chair, though he probably
shouldn’t. His eye is going to balloon up. “I know it’s fucked,
Griff. Obviously.”
“Well, what the hell, dickhead? This is Pop.” I allow some
of my frustration to leak out. “What’s going through your
head?”
“I just… I remember when Mom got sick.”
“Yeah?” I prod him. “I remember too.”
“Then you remember the doctors told us they could treat
her cancer easily with surgery. That they expected a full
recovery, a favorable outcome.” He bends over and grabs a
towel off the ground before sinking into the seat next to his
things. “Obviously. they didn’t have it right.”
“That was a different situation.”
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t feel that different.”
“That’s your business, not Pop’s. You’re letting your own
bullshit get in the way of being present.” I pause. That’s
some good advice, but have I been taking it myself? Every
instinct in me has been to treat Penny with kid gloves. But
she’s not doing that. Every session, she shows up ready to
work. I wasn’t lying earlier—she’s progressing much faster
than any other trainee I’ve worked with. She’s not big, but
she works hard, and she’s naturally gifted.
It’s not only that, though. Over the past weeks, she’s
stood up for herself when I expected her to buckle. She took
on those girls at the Delta house for me, like some sort of
avenging angel, fierce and confident. There’s more to her
than I expected.
Earlier, when I backpedaled about that kiss, she squared
off, hands on her hips, and came right back at me with a
response.
I kissed you. It had been a challenge, but I backed away.
Penny wasn’t the one thinking about the past, about the
things she’s been through, about where we came from. She
wanted something, and she took a chance. She lived in the
moment.
Maybe Colin isn’t the only Parker brother who’s getting
twisted in their own hang-ups.
“I didn’t come to give you this much grief,” I offer my
brother now as a peace offering. “I came to tell you that the
gym’s our responsibility. Maybe forever.”
“What?”
“Yeah.” I sit down next to him. “The gym—the whole
business—is in trust to us.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
Colin runs his hands over his beat-up face. “Taking over
the gym… Christ, I don’t even know where to start. I’m out
of town all the time. I’m starting to gain some ground with
my fighting career. I’m fucking nineteen. This isn’t a good
time for me to do something like this.”
“I’m about to graduate. I’ve been interviewing in the
cities. You think it’s a good time for me?” He blows out a
breath, and I continue. “I have as many reasons to be
hesitant as you do. I’m trying to save up money to move, to
start a job somewhere else. This is a huge responsibility for
all of us.” Owning the gym, even if I’m not part of the day to
day running of it, will keep me linked to Chesterboro for the
foreseeable future, and that was never my endgame. It’s
not that I planned to leave town and never return, but my
goal was to be someone who got out.
“Sometimes, things get thrown at us that we aren’t ready
for.” It doesn’t really need to be said. Both of us are more
than experienced with unexpected circumstance. “But I
can’t imagine the gym falling out of our family, either. Can
you?”
Colin searches my face before shaking his head. “That
wouldn’t be right.”
“Exactly. I don’t know what needs to be done yet, but if
we need you, I need to know that you’ll be there to help.” I
stand. “This isn’t an ideal time, and paired with Pop’s health
status, it’s a lot. Jake and I don’t know what we’re doing,
either. You can’t leave us hanging here, okay?”
He nods.
 “When are you home next?” When he looks away, I press
him. “I’m going into the gym tomorrow, to get an idea about
the financials and what needs to be done. It’ll just be easier
to talk in person.”
“Right. I’ll make time this week. Probably Wednesday or
Thursday?”
“Sounds good. I’ll call you.” I point at him. “Will you pick
up?”
He rolls his eyes. “Yes, dick, I’ll pick up.”
“Good. Now go ice your fucking face. You look like hell.”
“We can’t all be as pretty as you,” he shoots back and
stands to give me a slapping hug. “It was good to see you.”
“You, too.”
He nudges his head toward where Penny is waiting. “Hey,
isn’t that the Hampshire girl?”
“Yeah.” She’s studiously avoiding looking at us. “I’m
training her.”
“Look at you, mingling with the upper crust.” He shoves
my arm.
I scowl at him. “It’s not like that. She isn’t like that.” She
isn’t, but haven’t I been treating her with kid gloves too?
Damn it. “I’ll see you at home,” I tell him.

We’re quiet on the walk back to the car, lost in our

thoughts. At least I am. Maybe not even lost in thought but
lost as to how to fix what I fucked up. One look at Penny’s
face, and I can tell that she regrets kissing me. What kind of
asshole makes a girl he’s completely into feel bad for
kissing him?
I close the door behind me and take a deep breath. But
before I can start, she says, “I’m sorry…”
I cut that right off. “Oh God. No. Please. Let me.” I shift to
face her. Her face is unsure in the dimly lit car light. “I
fucked that up. I’m not sorry that we kissed. Let’s clear that
up.” Not at all sorry. One-hundred percent un-sorry.
She exhales in a whoosh, her eyes full of confusion.
“Okay…”
I try to explain. “I thought we agreed that this was going
to be professional. That we could be friends.” I figured she
saw as clearly as I do that who we are, where we come
from, to some extent where we’re going, makes us
incompatible.
“In the beginning, I agreed.” She shrugs. “Things have
changed.”
“I said that because I didn’t want you to think I was using
you. And I thought you were afraid of me.”
She glares at me. “I’ve told you repeatedly that I’m not
afraid of you.”
“You flinched every time I touched you.”
“I’m working on it,” she practically yells back at me,
throwing her arms up.
I huff out a laugh. Penny is glorious when she’s fired up,
and I cannot get enough of it. I don’t know if I ever will. She
keeps going, not paying any attention to me. “It’s not my
fault that I think you’re stupid sexy, you idiot.”
That wipes the smile right off my face. “Um…”
She’s on a roll. “In the beginning, it was fine to put rules
on how we see each other.” She’s in a real snit, and it’s
glorious. She points a righteous finger at me. “But you know
what, Griff Parker? I’ve been dealing with people telling me
how to feel and act for my entire life. I choose how I feel
now, and I felt like I wanted to kiss you.” At a pause in her
rant, she narrows her eyes at me. “Did you want me to kiss
you?” She covers her mouth. “Shit. Maybe you didn’t. I
mean, I thought you responded… enthusiastically, but…”
I feel the need to jump in here. “Red, stop.” She falls
silent, her pretty eyes finding mine. “You know I enjoyed
kissing you.” My voice is husky and low. I almost don’t
recognize it.
“No,” she whispers. “I don’t know that.”
I reach for her hands, pulling her icy fingers into mine. “I
promise you I’ve wondered what kissing you would be like
since I was in middle school. Maybe longer.” I start the
engine and crank up the heat. Her hands are icy. “It was
better than I imagined.”
That doesn’t even cover it. It was hot, sweet, real, and full
of whatever her brand of sassy and sweet is. I can’t even
describe it, exactly, but I’m sure that it’s addictive. I already
want to taste her again.
 Her blush is visible. “Good. Great, actually. That’s really…
good.”
“You said that.” I can’t help but point out, only because
I’m sure it’ll annoy her.
“Yes, I did.” Her scowl is a reward, so I smile at her, trying
for innocence. It breaks her down, and she grins back at me,
but her expression turns wistful. “It’s just… everyone has all
these expectations for me. I’m sick of living up to them.
Mostly, I’m sick of fitting neatly into boxes.”
I cock my head in question.
She glances down at her hands. “Do you know that the
reason Teddy and I fell apart is that he didn’t want me to go
to law school?”
I tense at that asshole’s name but keep my face
impassive as I shake my head.
“Of course, you wouldn’t know that. But that’s how it all
started. I told him in the summer that I was going to apply,
and he didn’t understand why I wanted to, no matter how I
explained it to him. He assumed we would get married, that
I’d follow him wherever he got drafted or signed. He told me
he would buy me a big house, we could join a country club,
just like our parents, and I wouldn’t need to work.”
The picture she’s painting is exactly what I always
expected her life would be, what I expected she wanted. I
hate that I’ve been wrong about her.
She laughs, continuing. “My high school friends thought I
was crazy to want to put that off to go to school longer. So, I
didn’t tell them—I haven’t told anyone—that I want to study
family law or social law instead of tax law or corporate law,
like my father. I haven’t even told my father, and he could
probably help me decide. But some of my girlfriends and
sorority sisters thought I should just marry the rich football
player, like everyone expected.” She stares out the
windshield, rubbing her fingertips together. “The more I
pushed back with Teddy, the more I tried to gain his support,
the more distance grew between us. It got worse when he
had a groin tear. He started depending on his pain meds,
drinking more. His behavior got more erratic. I tried to get
him to get help, but that only made him mad. In October, I
ended it with him.”
I can barely contain my disgust for this grown man who
made his problems into her problem.
“Except Teddy didn’t see it like that. He left messages,
hundreds of messages. Some of them were sweet, but most
of them were angry or begging. No matter how I explained it
to him, he refused to accept that things were over between
us. I should have listened to my gut. I realized he was
becoming unpredictable, but I said nothing to anyone.
Maybe I should have told his father, my mother…
someone.” She shakes her head.
“You can’t know that would have changed anything. You
didn’t know he would act like he did. His actions are on
him.” No way am I going to let her beat herself up on my
watch.
 “Maybe,” she allows. “Instead of saying anything, though,
I just started avoiding him. He would show up where I was,
though, so I started avoiding all social situations.”
I clench and unclench my fists, but I don’t think she
notices. She’s lost in thought.
“That night, I’d gone out to Fat Eddies. It was one of the
girl’s birthdays. Teddy showed up with some of the other
football guys. They tried to pick a fight with Linc Reynolds.
Do you remember that?” I don’t, so I shake my head.
“Anyway, I used the confusion to grab my coat and get out
of there. I should have waited for someone to walk with me,
but I was in such a rush. I didn’t see that he followed me
out.
“I should have run when Teddy caught up with me on the
corner, outside campus. I didn’t, because it wouldn’t have
been polite. Instead, I walked across the quad with him,
listening to his rants. He said he was sick of me ignoring him
and playing hard to get. I told him he imagined that. Maybe
in his head, he believed it. He grabbed my arm.” She lifts
her left arm and absently moves her wrist. “It hurt, so I
pulled my arm away. My temper got the better of me, and I
spilled everything. I told him I wasn’t playing hard to get—I
was already gone. That I was going to law school, and I
didn’t care what he thought about it. That it was over
between us.”
That’s when her fingers find the scar on her cheek. “He
punched me.”
 I can’t help it. I growl. Motherfucker…
“It didn’t hurt at first. I was disoriented and couldn’t
remember how I ended up on the ground. I crawled to my
hands and knees, and that’s when he kicked me.” As she
touches her ribs on her left side, I close my eyes, buckling
under the weight of what she’s telling me. “I felt that
immediately. Broken rib, punctured lung. I could barely
breathe, and it hurt so badly.”
I’ve been in enough fights to guess at what she endured,
and I hate every second of imagining what she must have
gone through. I can’t stop myself—I reach over and squeeze
her hands in mine again. She glances up, surprised, like she
had been so caught up in her memories that she forgot I
was there. “You don’t have to tell me this.”
“I know!” She laughs. “I want to tell you. That’s what I’m
trying to say. That night, as I lay behind the math building,
gasping for air, alone and frightened, all I could think was,
‘this is what I get for speaking my mind.’”
My jaw is so tight that I might crack teeth. I shake my
head, my entire body tense as she continues.
“I thought that for weeks. Maybe even until I started
training with you. You know what I think now?”
I shake my head.
“Now, all I can think is, fuck that guy.”
I can’t help but laugh. I hold her hands tighter—this fierce,
beautiful girl. She smiles back at me, her eyes alive as she
continues. “Fuck him. Because I still think the same as I
thought before. He can’t change my mind, and he didn’t
change me. Maybe that’s why he hit me, to get me to stop
talking, but I refuse to let it work. Fuck that and fuck him.”
She’s all haughtiness and bravery, and I want her so badly
that it’s a physical ache. I reach for her face, cupping her
cheeks in my hand. I stay gentle and slow, so she knows
that I’ll stop if she wants.
She only holds my eyes, the laughter gone from her face.
“Penny?”
“Yeah,” she breathes out.
“I’m going to kiss you this time. Is that okay?”
“Sure.” She swallows, her eyes closing as our mouths
move closer together. “Seems fair to me.”
I’m chuckling when I cover her lips with mine. My plan was
that this would be a gentle kiss. But as soon as I catch her
taste, my intentions fly out the window. It might be the soft
mewling sound she makes, or maybe her lips are so soft and
the inside of her mouth is so intoxicating that I could easily
become addicted.
But I suspect that it’s the way she meets me in it. There’s
nothing tentative about Penny. She opens for me, and it fires
me up.
When I attempt to shift closer, though, the gearshift slams
my hip, and I’m reminded that we’re in my car, in a public
parking lot. I can’t remember the last time a kiss has made
me lose track of time and space. As I pull back and her eyes
open, I grin at her. I probably look like a complete fool, but I
can’t help it. Kissing Penny is the most fun I’ve had in a long
time. “Red?”
“Yeah?” She breathes up at me.
“I certainly wanted to kiss you. And I’m up for it any other
time you want. Just let me know.” I mean it. From here on,
I’ll follow her lead, let her tell me what she needs.
Her smile is like the sun rising. “Great. I’ll keep that in
mind.”
We pull out of the parking lot and head home. The
conversation remains light, and the closer we get to
Chesterboro, the more I’m convinced she’s right. This
doesn’t have to be complicated. We’re two young people
who are attracted to each other. Maybe we don’t have to
overthink it. What’s the harm in keeping it light, seeing
where things take us, especially when all I seem to do is
dream about the possibilities between us?
As the I catch my gaze lingering on the lovely curve of her
face, the freckles across her nose, I can’t help the nagging
suspicion that it might be too late for light between us.

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 Penny

THE NEXT NIGHT, I find myself at the country club with my

mother. She volunteered me to help with one of her
charities.
“You could have certainly done this without me, Mom.”
The ballroom of the country club looks beautiful. They
covered the tables in crisp white clothes. The gold-rimmed
china is out, and the napkins—a pale yellow—are folded into
tulips on each plate. My mother has me carrying flower
arrangements to each table, rearranging the number of
roses to make certain that the yellow daisies and the pink
roses are in perfect proportions.
Basically, I’m doing busy work.
I should have canceled on her. It would have upset her,
but I wouldn’t be here right now, when I’d rather be
anywhere else. But Griff couldn’t practice tonight—he’s
training another client—and I didn’t have another ready
excuse.
 “This is the local rotary club’s annual dinner, Eleanor. The
group is very important to me. You received that scholarship
from them, don’t you remember? You should come, put your
face in, say hello.”
“Of course, I remember.” Mostly, I remember because my
mother had made sure that I applied for it. It required an
essay, something I hadn’t wanted to write about the
importance of community service and the values of
volunteering. The money would have better benefited
someone else in the community.
“Besides, you haven’t been to the club in months. It’s
time.”
There are a lot of reasons I haven’t been to the club. At
first, it was to avoid Teddy and his family. His parents are
members and his father plays gold with mine sometimes.
But after a few weeks of not going, I realized that I hate it
there. I’ve always hated it. So many people pretending to be
what they aren’t.
This luncheon means a lot to my mother, so I made an
exception. But when Teddy’s mother sweeps into the room, I
wish I hadn’t.
“Mother,” I hiss. “Did you know she was coming?”
My mom glances up. “Who, Gloria? Of course. She’s the
co-chair for this event.”
I set the flower arrangement in the center of the table. My
hand shakes as I rub it against my dress. “Why didn’t you
tell me?” I attempt to keep my voice calm.
 “Because you wouldn’t have come.” She faces me, placing
her hands on my shoulders. “You can’t avoid them forever.”
“I planned to try,” I spit out at her. I haven’t been this
angry in a long time. “How could you do this to me?”
“People have been asking about you, Eleanor.” My
mother’s voice is low, irritated. “There’s only so long that I
can tell them that everything’s fine if you don’t prove me
right.”
“Everything isn’t fine.” I narrow my eyes on her. “No one
except you thinks everything is fine.”
She glances around, obviously worried about being
overheard. “Eleanor…”
“No.” I lift my hand. “I don’t want to hear this.” I spin on
my heel and return to the table, where I left my purse and
coat. Then I head for the door.
“Eleanor.” My mother catches my sleeve. “You can’t leave.
Not like this.” She looks upset but also scared. I don’t know
if she’s afraid that people will judge her or she’s afraid for
me, but she should have thought about that before she
pulled something like this on me, unaware.
With my coat over my arm, I pin her with a glare. “I’m not
staying here.” She opens her mouth to argue, and I stop her.
“Part of this is my fault. I’ve led you to believe that it’s okay
to pretend that nothing happened to me, that I’m the same
as before. That I’m fine. I’m not, Mom. At least I’m not the
same.” I glance toward where Gloria Little is standing,
watching us. “I don’t want to talk to Gloria or her son or her
husband. There’s nothing to say to them, and I don’t want to
pretend otherwise.”
It’s true, but it’s not for the reasons I expected. I thought I
was avoiding them, or I was afraid of seeing him and his
family. There is a part of me that worried that I was
ashamed. But none of that is it. I just don’t care about them,
not anymore. At one point, I wanted to please them, my
family. That meant I didn’t listen to my own instincts. I’m not
that girl anymore.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, Mom.” I squeeze her arm. Without
waiting, I leave her in the middle of the party she planned.
She hisses my name behind me, but I walk out, head high.
I’m smiling until I hit the hallway and almost run into
Teddy. Pulling up short, I step away from him like he’s a
snake I came across on a walk. He’s wearing a polo and
khakis, probably coming from golf, but he’s on his way into
the ballroom. He’s probably on his way to find his mother,
but there’s a chance he knows I’m here.
Either way, I keep walking, sure to keep out of arm’s
reach. He mustn’t have expected me to ignore him
completely because I’m already three steps away when he
calls my name.
I turn on my heels, nod at him, and say, “Teddy.” Then I
continue my way.
I should have known that wouldn’t be good enough for
him. Teddy hates to be ignored. He catches up to me at the
door, grabbing the sleeve of my dress. I slide away, out of
his grasp.
“Don’t touch me.” I shuffle, putting my back to the door so
I can run if I need to. I also shrug into my coat. If he doesn’t
listen, I’m going to need my hands. Luckily for both of us, he
does.
“Penny. I was hoping to see you.” When I only glare at
him, he points toward the ballroom. “The dinner. My mom
said…”
I figured he came looking for me, but I hoped I was wrong.
“What do you want, Teddy?”
His smooth smile slips. “Now I need an excuse to see
you?”
“Yes.” I nod. “Better yet. Don’t come up with excuses to
see me at all.”
Any pretense at niceness falls away. “You’re being a
bitch.” The words are low, and he glances around us the
same way my mother did in the ballroom.
“Is this flirting? You calling me a bitch? Because if so, you
suck at it.” I want to fold my arms over my chest, but I
don’t. Griff taught me to keep my hands at the ready.
There’s barely any chance that Teddy is going to try
anything with me here, but I refuse to let down my guard
with him.
He leans forward. “Why are you acting like this?” This
close, I can see that his eyes are unfocused. I don’t smell
alcohol on his breath, but I don’t think he’s sober either. “It’s
Griff Parker, isn’t it? You weren’t a bitch until you started
spending time with trash. From what I hear, you two are
together a lot.”
“Fuck off, Teddy.”
“Good comeback, Pen.” He steps closer, and I refuse to
back down. I expect anger in his face, but there’s a hurt
vulnerability I don’t understand. “Why that guy, huh? You
could date anyone, at school or in town, and you choose
that guy? His father runs a fucking gym, Penny. His
brothers…” He shakes his head. “The lot of them are
animals. Are you doing this to hurt me? Is this payback?” He
grips my forearms, and as always, he’s too rough. “I’ve
learned my lesson, I swear. You don’t have to hang out with
that guy anymore. I get it.”
I force myself to stay still, even though I want to jerk out
of his grasp. “What do you get, Teddy?”
“You want me to be miserable? That’s why you’re dating
Parker. To get back at me.” He drops my hand, running his
hands through his hair. He looks crazed.
I inhale a steadying breath. Even though my heart races, I
need to appear unaffected, or he’ll have the upper hand. I
speak low but firm. “You’re wrong. I don’t care what you
think, and what I do has nothing to do with you. Goodbye,
Teddy.”
Head up, I hurry to the parking lot, slide into my car, and
lock the doors behind me.
 My hands shake, and I grip the steering wheel to stop it.
But that doesn’t keep my heart from racing in my ears. I
force myself to deepen my breathing, like my therapist
suggested, and to my surprise, it works.
I glare at the clubhouse. Now that the fear has subsided,
I’m pissed. I was extremely clear the last time Teddy and I
talked. It was ballsy to come up to me at the club. But he
probably felt safe here, sure that I wouldn’t cause a scene.
His mistake.
What he said about Griff rings in my ears. How dare he?
He’s not half of the person that Griff is. Griff is supportive,
he listens to me, and he’s done everything in his power to
make me comfortable. If anything, he’s too careful with me.
Our kisses fill my memory. Kissing Griff is like nothing I’ve
ever felt before. Though he could, he never overpowers me,
only meets me where I am. During our drive home, we
talked again, and when we reached my door, he kissed me
again. Like at the arena, he didn’t push me. I half-expected
him to. But everything about Griff is respectful, almost
maddeningly so. I’ve never felt more seen or understood.
I care for him.
That realization streaks through me like lightning.
Something is happening between Griff and me, something
that doesn’t have anything to do with Teddy, but is made
more apparent when I compare them. Griff is everything I
never realized I needed.
 I want more between us. But I don’t know if he wants that
as well. Last night, he was going on about how we’re
supposed to keep things professional, remain friends. That
we’re going to graduate, stuff like that. He’s right. But I
don’t care about what’s supposed to happen or what’s going
to happen.
He might not feel the same, though. All his talk about why
we need to keep things cool between us… maybe
involvement with me feels too risky. He might be right. What
can I do with that?
Unsettled, I start my car, and pull out of the parking lot,
leaving the country club and all its elitist bullshit behind me.
As I head back to the sorority house, I consider my next
steps with Griff, if there even are next steps. I know that I
want to find out.

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 Griff

JAKE CALLS ME ON Tuesday morning to tell me that Pop’s

awake. I head to the hospital to see him after my morning
classes.
After I sign in, I make my way to the second floor. The
nurse at the station tells me that he’s been moved to room
two-twenty. I thank her and head to my father’s room. When
I rap my knuckles on the door, he turns his head. His smile
is lopsided, undoubtedly a result of his stroke. It makes him
appear fragile, and I’m again struggling to reconcile the
father I know—strong, fiery—with the man in front of me.
“Hey, Pop. How are you doing?”
“Almost back to fighting weight.” He shifts as if he’s going
to sit up, and I hurry to his side.
“Don’t get up.” I squeeze his arm.
He falls back as if he’s exhausted from just that much
effort. “Weak as a kitten. Damn shame.”
 “A stroke and heart surgery might set back your training,
Dad.”
He snorts. “Might.”
“I’m glad to see you awake.”
“For now.” He adjusts in the bed, wincing. “Not for long, I
imagine.”
“I’ll keep this short.” I lean closer, resting my elbows on
the side rail of his hospital bed. “We’ve been doing what we
can to keep the gym up and running in your absence.”
“Of course, you have.” He huffs out. “Jake runs the place
like a well-oiled machine.”
“Yeah. But that’s not the part that bothers me.” I narrow
my eyes on him. “I went through the ledgers and financial
papers in your office.” He looks away from me. “Is the gym
in debt, Pop?”
“Griff…” He shakes his head.
“Dad.” I hold up a hand to stop whatever bullshit he’s
about to hand me. “I need to know what’s going on.”
He exhales, meeting my gaze. “Things have been hard
over the past few years. It’s no secret that I’m not as young
as I used to be. The younger fighters… they don’t
immediately think of me to train with. There are a lot of
others they can work with, men who have newer methods.
My individual training has all but dried up.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“What was I going to say?” He closes his eyes and shakes
his head.
 “Maybe ‘hey, boys, we’re having some financial troubles.’”
“That’s not your problem. The three of you are living your
own lives.” He waves me off. “I considered having that
realtor next door sell my place with that one.”
I gape at him, but he’s staring out the window.
“And I spoke with someone at First United Bank in town
about a loan.”
“Do you have the paperwork somewhere?”
“It’s on my desk at the house. I planned to use the house
as collateral.”
I scowl at him. “Dad, there’s no way to recover the money.
As far as I can see, the gym is sinking.” I spent two entire
afternoons going over the paperwork in my father’s office. I
balanced the numbers. Every result leaves Parker’s Gym in
the red.
“I figured it would buy me some time,” he hedges.
“Until what?” He exhales, glaring at me. “Until what,
Dad?”
“Until you’re on your own. Until things with Emma are
settled and Jake can find somewhere else to work. Colin…
he’s fine right now. But I just wanted to be sure that you and
your brothers were set.”
“Pop, that’s not your problem.” All these years, my
brothers and I have been thinking that we were the ones
helping our father at the gym. I never imagined that he saw
it the opposite way.
 “It’s not my problem to make sure you guys get up on
your feet?” His eyes flare. “I’m your fucking father. I didn’t
have any family when I married your mom, and hers
basically disowned her. We struggled more than I wish we
had, especially in those early years. I didn’t want that for
you boys.”
“We’re good, Pop. You did great.” I cover his arm with a
hand. “Right now, it’s time for us to take care of you.”
He opens his mouth to say something but closes it. His
lips pinch together, and there’s the faintest hint of moisture
in his eyes before he glances away. He swallows a few times
then closes his eyes. “I’m going to rest.”
“Okay.” I pat his arm. “Don’t give any of the nurses too
much hell,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. But he doesn’t
say anything. I stand and head out, closing the door softly
behind me.
In the hall, I rub my chin. How the hell did things get this
bad? I assumed that my father didn’t want to expand
because he was comfortable, financially and emotionally.
Now that I’ve seen the numbers, it seems more likely that
he didn’t have the capital even to consider it.
A secured loan against the house is a loser idea. It might
buy him some time, but it only puts off the inevitable. The
gym needs to be viable on its own if it’s going to be
successful in the long term.
The only question is whether that’s what my father and
brothers want, if it’s what I want. Maybe Dad’s right—we
could talk with the realtor and put the place on the market
with that store next door. Maybe someone would buy both
pieces of property.
That doesn’t keep Jake employed, and it ends the
business we’ve always loved. And is my father really
prepared to retire? When he’s recovered, will he really be
ready to quit?
I hate the idea of the gym closing. There must be another
option, one that doesn’t involve my father mortgaging his
house or letting the business fall out of my family’s hands.
I just need to find it.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I slide it out. It’s
Penny. Thinking of you. How’s your dad?
Just seeing her name makes me feel lighter. Tired but
awake.
Conscious is progress, she sends back, followed by a
thumbs-up emoji. Shaking my head, I can’t help but grin.
Her and her emojis… But her next text makes me pause. Do
you need anything?
I exhale slowly. What a loaded question. Yes, I do need
things. The top of the list? A huge influx of cash. But she
won’t understand that. Penny’s family has never had to
struggle financially. Worse, if I complain about it, will she
think that I’m asking her for money? I wrinkle my nose. I
don’t want her money, and I don’t want her to see me as a
charity case. Everything is so new between us. I don’t want
her to see me as someone she needs to help. Hell, I don’t
know how I want her to see me, but not like that. We’re
supposed to be keeping it light, going with the flow.
I’m good, I fire back to her. You available to train tonight? I
should head home, do some homework. Or I should stop at
Dad’s place, look over the loan documents he has. But I
really want to see her.
Yep. Meet me at the house after dinner?
Sounds good.
I pocket my phone. I don’t need to unload my financial
problems on Penny. All the sordid details of my life need to
stay far away from her.

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 Penny

“IT’S GOING TO BE fun.” Violet loops her arm through mind.

“You and Griff are practically dating now, aren’t you?”
I really regret telling her we kissed last weekend. “You
know that’s not true. We’re…” I don’t know what we are.
“We’re good friends who are training together and who kiss
sometimes.”
She casts a sideways glance at me.
I shrug helplessly. “That’s all there is.”
I wish like hell that wasn’t true, but it is. I thought that
after we kissed, things would change somehow. Not much is
different. We’ve trained twice this week—Tuesday and
Thursday—and each time, he was completely professional.
He pushes me harder than ever. Then, at the end of the
session, he’ll kiss me. He never let it get too carried away.
Just the hottest, steamiest kisses I’ve ever had, and then a
soft “goodnight.” It’s all left me wanting more, every time.
Each time, though, I’ve done nothing but let him leave.
 Which is why I’m on my way to their hockey game on
Saturday night. He mentioned that if I ever wanted to go,
that I could use his seat in the players’ section. Except he
said it while the rest of the sisters were there for our weekly
lesson, and Violet overheard him. Violet knows I’m weird
about strangers touching me. It’s not that I don’t like it—it’s
that it makes me jumpy.
But I want to watch Griff play, so I worked up my nerve
and texted him I wanted to use his ticket. That was
Thursday night, after our training session and steamy kiss. I
decided I was going to say something or advance whatever
was going on between us. I felt ballsy. Since then, I’ve been
doubting myself and outright dreading how many people I’ll
physically bump into in a crowd like the one at the rink.
By the time I follow Violet up the stairs into the players’
section, I’m overstimulated. I must have rubbed against at
least thirty people on my way in, and all my senses are on
high alert. Not only that, but I’m on the lookout for Teddy. I
assume he’ll be here, which is his right, I guess, but I don’t
want to come across him if I can avoid it. I especially don’t
want to get caught alone with him. So, I keep my eyes
peeled.
We sit with Shea Carmichael, Linc Reynolds’s girlfriend,
and Cami Alvarez, who I met at the bowling alley with the
movie star, Judd Jones. She went to high school with Griff’s
roommate, Ash, and they’ve rekindled their friendship.
Violet whispers to me she’ll be in a movie coming out this
summer staring Richie Appapo. Both Shea and Cami do their
best to make me feel at home, and there isn’t much traffic
through this section. Violet lets me sit on the end, and I
relax.
Griff and his teammates dominate the game. At the end,
the screen plays the team’s stats over a music compilation.
A lot of the fans stay, watching and clapping along. Our
Chesterboro Bulldogs are the head of their division. No one
talks about playoffs, though. Last year, the team made it to
the last game of the playoffs and lost. Maybe no one wants
to jinx anything now.
We stay until most of the crowd is gone. Shea and Violet
said that the guys take a long time to clean up, so there’s
no need to rush. But I feel Violet stalls us so that I don’t
have to walk past too many people. It works. By the time
we’re standing outside the locker rooms, there aren’t many
other people around, save for a few other girlfriends waiting
for their guys.
Maybe it’s because I’ve become so paranoid, but I notice
Cami is staring at the end of the tunnel, toward the exit. I
notice there’s a man there, and his presence appears to
make her uncomfortable. That sets all my instincts on high
alert.
I join her. “Do you know him?”
“No,” she says, not taking her eyes off him. “You?”
When she glances at me, I shake my head. I try not to
freak out, though. My anxiety can be excessive, so I try for
casual. “Creepers gotta creep, I guess.”
“Maybe he’s here for one of the guys?” She suggests. “An
agent or something?”
The guy’s clothes don’t fit him well, and his hair is
unkempt. I bet that agents or managers for potential
professional sports players look more put together than this
guy.
He must have noticed us looking at him, because he
heads toward us.
Every muscle in my body tenses, and I reach for Cami’s
arm in case we need to run. This guy isn’t Teddy, and he’s
not full of anger. But Teddy taught me that anyone can be
unpredictable, and it’s best to be aware. I go through all the
different self-defense moves that Griff has taught me. I’m
afraid, but I prepare myself.
There’s an exit behind us. We can all go that way if we
need to. We’re in a group, not alone. The locker room is next
to us, full of people who will hear us if we scream. I force
myself to listen, to think, even as adrenalin courses through
me.
“Ms. Alvarez, Steve Porter, Chesterboro Sun Gazette.” It
takes a moment for me to register the words. He’s a small-
town reporter. I force myself to breathe again. “I was
wondering if I could get a statement.”
Of course. He wants to talk with Cami because she’s a
movie star. Cami’s voice rings out— “No comment”—as she
pushes me behind her. They keep talking, but the blood is
rushing in my ears. He won’t hurt us, at least not physically.
Cami doesn’t sound pleased that he’s bothering her, but
we’re not in imminent danger.
I repeat that fact to myself at least a dozen times when I
hear someone say, “Then you should talk somewhere else.
Where we don’t need to hear you.”
I glance up and find Griff and a few other huge guys
standing behind Cami, a wall of muscle. Declan Mitchell
says, “Please. Because your voice is fucking annoying. And
you’re upsetting my girlfriend.”
Cami sputters a laugh at that. I glance at Ivy, who is not
upset. She looks ready to throw hands.
The guy backs away, mumbles a bunch of stuff that
sounds apologetic, and then he’s gone. I don’t watch him
because Griff stands next to me, blocking out everything
else. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” I nod, then keep nodding. “I’m great.” I meet his
eyes, and he obviously doesn’t believe me. “I managed it.”
“Did you?” His eyebrows lift.
“Yes.” I nod again. “I was afraid, but I held it together.” It’s
true. I planned instead of panicking. It prepared me in case I
needed to fight. But I intended to run, to hide, to get away. I
wasn’t calm, and I might not have been brave, but I was
ready.
“You did great, hon.” Violet squeezes my arm.
“Not great. But good enough.” I manage a smile at both.
Behind us, Ash and Cami are arguing. Declan reminds
everyone that there’s a party at Shepherd and asks if we’re
going.
“Yes,” Violet says, looping her arm through Cami’s. She
pins me with a meaningful stare. “A creeper means that we
all need a drink.”
I can’t agree more, and I push off the wall, inhaling a
steadying breath.
“You don’t have to come,” Griff offers quietly.
“I know. But I want to,” I tell him as everyone heads
toward the exits. “Are you going?”
“The team’s supposed to at least put our face in. We won,
so I should stop by.”
“Then I’d like to go too.”
“Only if you’re sure.” He studies my face, and the concern
in his eyes makes me pause.
“You’re protecting me.”
He glances around, keeping his voice low. “You came
tonight to a huge and crowded arena to watch me play. I
know that took a lot. And then that guy”—he glares at the
way Porter left— “scared you. You’d be allowed to bail if you
wanted to.”
That is both incredibly sweet and irritating. “I said I
wanted to go.” I cock my head. “When you said that we
should keep things professional, that we should just be
friends… were you protecting me then too?”
He reaches for me, rubbing his hands along my arms. “It’s
not like that. I was protecting both of us.”
 “Both of us?” I love how his fingers feel on me.
“We’re totally different, Penny,” he whispers to me.
“You’re going to law school. Right now, I’m not even sure I’m
making it out of Chesterboro or if I’ll be working at the gym
for the rest of my life. This isn’t a thing that will last. I don’t
want to have feelings for you.”
We are different, and he’s right—at the end of the year or
maybe the end of the summer, we’ll go separate ways. “You
made decisions for me again.” I poke him in the middle of
his chest.
“I’m making decisions for me.” He rests his hands on my
shoulders, and I lean toward him like a sunflower to
sunlight. “We’re from different backgrounds.”
“I don’t care, and neither should you.”
Even though he’s the one talking about how we can’t work
out, he steps closer, his fingers pressing into my back.
“Most of all… I don’t want to rush you. I want you to make
your decisions on your time. I’m only trying to give you the
space that you need. I’m trying to follow your lead.” He tilts
his head down so our faces are only a few inches apart.
“And Teddy…”
I shake my head. “Teddy doesn’t have anything to do with
you.”
“He has something to do with you.” He tucks a strand of
hair behind my ear. “So, he has something to do with me.”
I gaze up at him. Everything he says make sense,
especially when I pair it with Griff, the guy I’ve come to
know. He’s always in control, always looking out for
everyone else. He might not be sure of things, but there is
something that I’m certain of—I want him.
“Griff?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Not if I kiss you first, Red,” he whispers against my lips.
But it feels like we’re both moving toward each other at the
same time when our mouths meet.
“Parker!” The sound of his name interrupts us. Down the
hall, Declan’s waving to us. “I’ll see you at Shepherd in
five.”
Griff curses under his breath, and I could swear it was
something about how his captain is a meddling grandma.
He steps back from me, reaching for my hand. “Are you
ready to go? If I don’t show, Mitch is going to send out a
search party.”
I grin. He sounds as disappointed to have our kiss
interrupted as I am. That makes the disruption a little easier.
I squeeze his fingers. “Ready when you are.”

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 Griff

IT’S STILL THE DEAD of winter in Chesterboro, but the

basement of Shepherd Hall is a sauna. They packed the
place full of bodies, and as always, it doesn’t smell good.
But we always keep our festivities downstairs to let the
Safety and Security officers on duty have plausible
deniability. This way, they can walk past, see that we’re
having a party, but if they don’t see any active underage
drinking, they leave us alone. It’s a fine line most groups on
campus walk. We regulate ourselves, mostly, and though
the administration knows that drinking happens, they only
get involved if something goes bad.
I think it’s safer and better that it stays on campus if we’re
going to drink underage. Out in public, there are real cops,
real charges, and real lifetime consequences. On campus,
there’s a buffer. Personally, I don’t understand why college
kids who handle their educations, who are adults in every
other way, aren’t treated like adults in this one way.
 Hell, I’m barely twenty-one, and Colin isn’t even twenty
yet. But we learned this week that the gym we’ll own is
underwater and debt riddled. That feels adult to me.
When my brothers and I sat down to go over it, we ended
up with more questions. The gym hasn’t represented as
many big-name fighters in the past few years, and
apparently, the money they paid did a lot of the financial
heavy lifting. As far as I can tell, we’re behind on some
loans, with no actual idea of how we’re going to pay the bills
without the mortgage our father was pursuing.
Jake is clueless about financial details, and Colin’s
nineteen and barely graduated high school. Neither of them
knows how to get us out of this mess. My ideas all involve
either a monetary or a physical investment from me. I don’t
even know if Pop will sign off on them. Tomorrow, I plan to
visit with him. I’m twenty-one years old with no real
collateral beyond the money I’ve saved to get out of
Chesterboro, a plan I’m not even sure I’ll be able to pull off
now.
I’ve always had a strategy. My brothers might have
preferred to move through life on a whim, but from the time
I was young, I wanted more. I saw how people in our town
stared at my family, how they talked about them after my
mother passed. A part of me wanted to prove to them—to
myself—that I wasn’t what everyone said I was.
Now, all my ideas are in jeopardy, and the one thing I
didn’t plan for—Penny—feels like the realest thing in my life.
 Across the room, I watch her dance with some of the other
girls. I notice she turns down a beer. When she first took the
dance floor, she was jumpy and tense. I was sure that she
was going to bail, but she didn’t. She adjusted her position,
rearranging herself so that her back was against a wall, and
she could easily see the door. She stays with her friends,
and her eyes find me often. I salute her or give her a head
nod every time, so she knows I’m here.
She seems to relax. A few songs later, she’s laughing,
goofing off with Shea Carmichael and Violet. With so much
of my life in a mess, watching her here makes me happier
than I’ve been all week.
Everything’s going great until she heads toward me. The
new Latto song is on, and she holds her hands out to me.
“Come dance?”
I shake my head. “Absolutely not.”
Her pale eyebrows drop. “You don’t dance?”
“No way, Red,” I yell over the music. “What about me
leads you to think that I like to be watched at all?”
“You play hockey.” She leans closer so I can hear her, and
her scent fills my nostrils. I breathe deeper.
“Team sport.”
She offers me a skeptical look.
“And I’m not even one of the stars. I leave that to the rest
of the guys. Besides, I don’t have any rhythm.”
“I don’t believe you.” She glances behind her, and I can
see that her position, back to the door, is making her antsy.
I cup her elbows shift us, so the door is to one side, and the
wall is to the other. This close, I can feel her heat. The flush
from dancing is high on her cheeks, and she’s pulled her
hair into a ponytail at the back of her neck. She curves
toward me. I don’t even think she realizes that she’s doing
it.
I lean closer under the ruse that I need to talk into her ear
so she can hear me. Mostly, I only want to be nearer to her.
“Sorry, Red. The most I can manage is the hold and sway
kind of dancing.”
Her eyes flare. I keep myself still, waiting. I’ve been
refraining from going any further physically with her. It’s not
because I don’t want to. She’s all I’ve thought about for the
past week. It’s taken every ounce of self-control to stop after
a kiss at the end of our training sessions. But I was serious. I
don’t want to push her. I need things to go at her pace, even
if it kills me.
And it just might. Right now, as she stares up at me with
wide eyes, her breathing coming quickly and her lips full
and open, my palms are practically itching with the need to
touch her.
She raises her arms and puts them around my neck. “Like
this?” She presses firmly against me, and I can feel every
inch of her. My arms curve around her waist, and I grasp
her, pulling her even tighter against me.
“That’s the holding part,” I manage, my voice gritty. God
is it ever. She’s heaven in my arms, lithe and strong. I’ll
never get enough of her.
She holds my gaze, and then she’s rocking, her hips
rolling against mine. Even though the movements are
strong, her eyes are vulnerable and soft. “Does this work for
swaying?”
Any teasing I might have considered earlier escapes me.
“That feels… perfect.”
She nods then drops her face to my chest.
I have no idea how long we stand like that, slow dancing
to dance music. Through at least one song. With her cheek
pressed into my shoulder, I drop by chin and rub my mouth
against her soft hair, inhaling the smell of coconut.
After long moments, she raises her head. “Griff?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re dancing.”
“Nah, Pen. I’m holding you. That’s much better than
dancing.”
She swallows and licks her lips. I need to smother the
groan that threatens to escape from my mouth. The sight of
her tongue, the feel of her wrapped around me… I’m sure
she’s noticed the evidence of how that’s affecting me,
pressed against her stomach, because I’m harder than I
ever remember being.
“Griff?” she says again.
“Yeah?” I repeat.
“Come home with me.”
Every ounce of air leaves my body.
 “Back to my room at the Delta house. I have a single.”
She inhales, pulling back to put some space between us,
and I miss her weight immediately. “You said you were
waiting for me to be ready. I’m ready.”
The words send fire lacing through my veins. Still, I pause.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She nods. “Can we go now?”
“I’ll follow you anywhere, Red.”

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 Penny

I WAS ALL BRAVADO in the basement of Shepherd, but by

the time we hit the cold air outside, where it’s silent and
we’re alone, I deflate. That allows introspection and doubt to
creep in.
What if Griff is right to worry that I’m not ready? I mean,
how does anyone know when they’re ready to sleep with
someone? Not that him coming back to my room needs to
mean that we’re going to sleep together. We could just…
make out. Or cuddle. I know Griff, and I trust him. He
wouldn’t push me to do anything I wasn’t ready to do. But I
didn’t only want to snuggle when I pressed against him in
the basement.
It’s not until we’re in front of the Delta Alpha house I
realize we haven’t spoken for the entire walk.
Griff stops on the porch, tucking his hands in his pockets.
“What’s the call, Red?” I pause next to him, tilting my head.
“You’re quiet, and you’re never quiet. You’re thinking
thoughts.”
Despite all the stuff in my head, I grin at him. “The
thoughts were thinking themselves.”
“Yeah? Fill me in.”
“I want to have sex with you,” I blurt out, then close my
eyes in mortification. “Holy shit, I’m so smooth…”
He bursts out laughing. “I want to have sex with you, too.”
“You do?” I shake my head. “I mean, great. Right.
Wonderful.” I hold out my hand to him. “We should go in,
then.”
He studies me. “Am I supposed to shake your hand?”
I laugh, and it’s frighteningly close to a snort. “No. We’re
not in a boardroom. We’re on the porch.”
He gives me a half smile and nudges his head toward the
door. “You’re right, though. Let’s head inside. You can show
me your room. I bet it’s pink and ruffly.” He wiggles his
eyebrows at me, and my nerves fly away.
This is Griff. I’m safe.
I fish my keys out and open the door. “I’m on the top
floor,” I say, and we trudge up the creaky stairs to the third
floor.
“How old is this house?” He glances up the stairwell.
There’s a stained-glass window in the ceiling that I’ve
always loved.
“Victorian. Almost two hundred years.”
 The stairway to the third floor and my room is narrow. This
is probably where the servants lived. The rooms aren’t big,
either, but they’re large enough for a bed, a desk, and a
chest of drawers. Some girls don’t lock their doors, but I
always do, especially now.
I slide my key into the lock and push the door open. My
room is in the back of the house, and I’m lucky enough to
have two windows instead of only one. If Griff was hoping
for girly, he’s got to be disappointed. I have a down
comforter because it’s freezing most of the time, and the
cover is a creamy white. I covered the old, battered wooden
floors with a jute rug. There’s nothing on my walls. I usually
just leave the blinds up during the day, and the trees in the
yard are enough decoration for me. At night, I turn on the
reading light next to my bed or the lamp on my desk. It’s
cozy and natural.
Griff stands in the doorway.
“Come in?” I offer.
He steps inside, and I pull the door closed behind him.
There’s not a lot of room to move around, and when I turn
back, I run right into him, our fronts connecting. My breath
leaves me with a whoosh.
His hands cup my shoulders to steady me. “Whoa there.
You okay?”
“I don’t have guys in my room.” It’s true. Teddy didn’t
want to come up here, saying it was too small, and the
building gave him the creeps. We always went to his place.
Now, I imagine he just didn’t want the inconvenience of
walking home.
“I’m a guy, and I’m in your room,” he points out.
“Yes. You are.”
“Are you okay with that?”
“I invited you, Griff.”
“Yeah, but you’re allowed to change your mind.” He rubs
my upper arms. “That was then. Now, we’re here. You still
okay?”
I stare into his electric-blue eyes. That’s exactly what has
made being with him so perfect—when I’m with him, he’s
right there with me. Not just physically, but he’s emotionally
present, every time. We may have worries about the future,
and the past hangs over me. But I’m sure about Griff.
“I’m great.” He must read the honesty on my face when I
smile at him. I tug the crossbody bag I use when I go out to
carry my phone and ID over my head and toss it on my
desk. Then I toe out of the boots I wore to the game. He’s
watching me. “Um, you can take your shoes off, too.”
“Oh.” He quickly kicks out of his sneakers. “Sorry.
Watching you take off your shoes is hot.”
“Seriously?” I laugh.
“Everything you do is hot, Penny.” He shrugs, and I find
the expression so endearing that I step in and fold him
against me. He rubs my back, and then his mouth falls onto
mine. It’s a claiming and a learning, and I lift on my tiptoes
to get closer to him, to give him more. His fingers trail up
into my hair, loosening my ponytail. I pause long enough to
pull my hair tie out and fling it toward my dresser.
“You’re never going to find that again,” he murmurs
against my lips.
“I’m sure it’ll meet up with the billion other lost hair ties
out there.”
He cocks his head, his brows furrowing.
“You buy them by the hundred or something, but after a
few weeks, you only have three left. It’s a paradox. A ripple
in time or something.”
He chuckles, and I reach up and pull him closer, covering
his mouth with mine.
The kiss becomes explosive. We’re pulling at each other,
holding each other close. When I can drag my mouth from
his, I say, “we’re wearing a lot of clothes.”
He nods, then moves so quickly that I can barely see what
he does. In less time than I take to catch my breath, his
clothes are gone, as if he’s Clark Kent and got distracted
putting on his uniform. He might as well be a superhero
standing in my room, given how shocked I am at the sight of
him.
I knew Griff was a wall of muscle. I’ve grappled with him,
worked on holds and fighting stances. I’ve got hands-on
knowledge of how he feels. But that’s with clothes on. Now,
without a stitch of clothing, he’s a fucking god. From the
tousled hair and brilliant blue eyes, across his wide
shoulders and down to chiseled abs and that gorgeous V at
the hips that guys get… My eyes fall on the length of him,
and my breath catches. There’s nothing shy about Griff.
He’s a glorious, acres of perfect male skin and muscle.
“I figured I could go first clearing away the clothes.” He
shrugs, and I laugh.
“I see that.”
“If you’re ready, you could join me. Naked is better
together, you know,” he offers as if it’s just a helpful
suggestion. “Unless you’d rather not. Whatever makes you
comfortable.”
“You’d be okay if I didn’t take off any of these clothes?”
That doesn’t sound like any fun.
“I mean, I’d prefer if you did. But it’s up to you.” He’s
solemn, and I recognize that Griff is protecting me… again.
He’ll make sure that I’m happy, safe, and comfortable, even
if it means that we don’t go any further than this.
I reach for my sweater then pull it up and over my head.
Standing in the middle of my room in my bra and jeans, I
raise my brows at him. “So just this is okay with you?”
“Um…” He doesn’t come up with anything more
interesting than that as his eyes rove my shoulders, my
breasts, my stomach. Heat warms my chest, settling low in
me.
“Maybe this too?” I ask as I reach for the buttons on my
pants, pulling them open and shimmying them down to my
feet. I step out, and though I’m trying for casual, my heart is
racing in my ears, my breathing shallow. “Is that good?”
 He steps closer, and any chance that I could have gone
further with my flippancy fades. His gaze grows more
intense as he trails his fingers along my shoulder and across
my collarbone before reaching around to press them into
the muscles at the back of my neck. It feels so good, I hum
with pleasure. “Penny?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to move us to the bed now.”
I barely get a nod out before he sweeps me into his arms.
In one step, he covers the space to the bed.

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 Griff

I DEPOSIT PENNY IN the center of the bed in her bra and

underwear. They’re peach and lacy. They show off all that
creamy skin, and my dick hardens further.
Stretching, she reaches over her head to turn off the lamp
next to her bed.
“Do you mind if we leave it on?” I ask, motioning toward
the light. She pauses, her arm still stretched overhead. I
can’t help it—I trail a finger along the side of her, starting
just under her arm and dragging it down to her waist.
“You’re gorgeous, and I’ve been dying to see what happens
when you flush. How far does it go? And your fucking
freckles? I need to see just where they are.”
Her face pinks up, and I nearly groan. “Yup, all across your
collarbone.” I trace the line there. Her skin is so soft, as
smooth as glass. “Exquisite.”
She pulls her arm down, but then it’s like she doesn’t
know what to do with her hands, so she folds them across
her stomach. I cover her fingers, gently separate her hands,
and place them at her sides. Her eyes are wide, and her
chest is rising and falling more rapidly than before. I study
her, my head tilted. “You okay, Red?”
The nod she gives me is a jerk, and I shift to sit. I don’t
touch her, and I make sure my voice stays steady when I
say, “You look like you’re freaking out.”
“I’m kind of freaking out,” she allows, scooting up on her
elbows.
“Okay… what are you freaking out about, so we can fix
it?” When she says nothing, I offer suggestions. “Did you
want me to put my clothes back on?” She shakes her head.
“Did you want to put your clothes back on?” Again, her head
shakes. “Okay. Good. That’s a start.”
She exhales. “I’ve only been with one person. Teddy. I
don’t know how to do this.”
“This?”
“Like… witty pre-sex banter.” She swipes a strand of hair
out of her face. Now that her hair tie is gone, it’s falling over
her shoulders in messy waves, silky strands of fire.
“I wouldn’t say I’ve been witty…” I offer.
“I mean, I don’t know how to behave.” She waves her
hand in a circle. “Obviously. Because I’d imagine that you’ve
never had sex with a girl and had her have an entire
conversation about how it should start.” Her flush is
deepening, and she sits up further. It’s clear she’s about to
psych herself out, so I hold up my hand.
 “First, I’m talking to you right now, and any other
conversations I’ve had don’t matter. Second,”—I hold up my
fingers— “I don’t give a shit what the ‘right way’ is to start.”
I make air quotes. “Who cares what everyone else does?
They’re not here. We are. So, what do you want to do? I like
the light on, but if you’re not into it, I’m good with that. But
do you want to stop? That’s the most important part.
Because if you want to keep going, we can work out the
details.”
“I want to keep going.” She nods. “A lot. Definitely want to
keep going.”
Relief courses through me. “Great.” I smile. When she
grins back, everything is right again in the world. “Can I hold
you, then?”
“I would like that.” She glances at the light. “Could we
turn that off? At least for now?”
“Absolutely.” Reaching up, I switch off the lamp. “Under
the blankets?”
In response, she drags the comforter down and slides
under them. Moonlight streams through the window, and I
decide that if Penny looks like a dream in artificial light, then
she’s a goddess in the moonlight. I open my arms, and she
curls against me.
When I suggested the cuddle, I had no idea something so
innocent could feel so sinfully wonderful. I’ve held Penny,
we’ve danced… we’ve grappled, for Christ’s sake. But skin
to skin with her is next-level perfection.
 I force myself to get a grip on my frayed control and stay
in the moment with her. We lie in silence for long moments,
and as she warms up, she relaxes against me. I close my
eyes and regulate my breathing, desperate to get a handle
on my raging lust. In response, she curls closer, and I can’t
tell where she starts, and I begin. Contentment like I’ve
never felt before washes over me. I’m no monk, but I’m not
really a man-whore like some of my teammates and friends,
either. I’ve dated a bit, but nothing serious. At least, no one
that I felt serious about.
This is different.
As the minutes fade away, I realize I could lie here all
night, hard and aching, and be perfectly happy, even if we
did nothing more.
What does that mean? No one who knows me would ever
describe me as snuggly. Most of the time I’m quiet and keep
to myself. Hell, more than one guy on my team has told me I
scare the shit out of them.
Penny’s hand splays over my stomach, though, and
distracts me from that line of thinking. I barely have time to
get used to that touch when her fingers dance up my chest,
touching. “Is that okay?” she asks.
“Better than okay.” It’s fucking magic. I shift, offering her
as much of my skin as I can manage. “I’m all yours.” The
words feel truer than I expected. But I’m lost as she trails
her fingertips across my shoulders and down my arms to my
fingers. The entire time, I watch her face in the soft light.
She’s concentrating on me, so I used the time to study her.
The upturn of her nose, the hint of a cleft in her chin. The
splash of freckles that I have the overwhelming urge to kiss.
But she’s exploring me, and I’m enjoying it so much that I
don’t want to interrupt her.
She sits up, pulling the comforter off us. But when she
shivers, I reach for it, tucking it around her. The look she
gives me is so soft, it steals my breath. I reach for her face,
and she lowers to meet my mouth.
The kiss is combustion. The way she smells, the way she
tastes, the feel of her skin against mine… I never want it to
stop. When she pulls back, I groan, not wanting to lose the
contact. But she places a finger on my lips, shushing me,
before squirming out of her panties and unsnapping her bra.
She shimmies it down her arms before tossing it onto the
floor. “That can join my hair tie.”
I chuckle, but the sound dies in my mouth when she
throws her leg around my thighs and kneels over me. Christ,
she’s a fucking goddess. I knew she was in great shape.
She’s been working her ass off. But her breasts are small,
pert, with the sweetest pale-pink nipples I’ve ever seen.
Leaning forward, she places her hands on my pecs. My
breath leaves me in a whoosh. She slides her hands down
my stomach, and I stop breathing entirely. When she takes
my length in her grip, I pray she doesn’t stop.
“Penny…” I moan as she works me up and down. “I want
to touch you.”
 “One minute, please.” She leans over and takes me in her
mouth. My hips come off the bed. God, her mouth…
There are words coming out of my mouth. “Penny… God,
baby… don’t stop. Oh, Christ, you need to stop…” Finally, I
shift to sit, reaching for her, and in one movement, I drag
her up and fully onto my lap. I cover her mouth again with
mine, then rain kisses on her face. “Red, if you keep going,
I’m going to embarrass myself.”
She kisses me back, and from there, things get frantic. I
cover her breasts, and the weight of them is perfect. I run
my thumbs over her hardened nipples, and she arches into
me, gasping. Her eyes find me again, and I lean forward to
take the tight tip in my mouth. Swirling my tongue over it, I
glance up and meet her eyes. Watching her as she watches
me lick at her only amps up the sheer desire raging through
me. I slide my hand down to where her legs are open around
me and dip my fingers inside her soft folds.
“Pen, you’re so slick…” I groan, letting my thumb slide
through the warm skin to press against her swollen clit. She
lifts her hips, pushing against my hand, and I increase my
pressure. “I swear, Penny, I want you so much right now.”
Her eyes open, clouded with passion. “Yes,” she says with
enough enthusiasm that I smile.
I kiss her. “Said with feeling.”
I lean over and snag my pants, retrieving the condom I
tucked in my pocket. She snags it out of my fingertips. With
a rip, she has it out and on me in seconds. “Lean back,” she
says.
“It’s hot when you’re bossy.” I’m not lying, either. It gets
sexier when she shifts up onto her knees, then lowers
herself onto my dick.
I hold her eyes as she takes almost all of me inside her,
and any of my earlier teasing escapes me. This is too heavy,
too important. If I thought we fit each other when I held her
or when we kissed, I knew nothing like the level of
connection when I’m buried in Penny’s body. She tilts her
hips and takes me the rest of the way. Both of us cry out.
She moves, sliding up before lowering on me again. The
friction makes me grit my teeth, desperate to stay in
control, to give her the power. Her rhythm begins slowly, but
she picks up speed. She feels amazing, and I grip her hips
because though I barely hang onto my control as she rides
me, watching her is heaven. Her red hair is loose around her
shoulders, her head tilted back. Her nipples are tight in the
light from the window.
Her pace increases, and I’m both desperate for her and
never want this to end at the same time.
But she reaches her climax, and her body shudders,
convulsing around me. I tip over my own breaking point,
jerking up into her.
The orgasm is all-consuming. I hold on to her as we fly
apart.
 When it’s over, she falls forward onto my chest, and I curl
her against me. Shifting to the side, we’re a tangle of limbs,
breathing heavily as our hearts race against each other.
“Wow,” she says, and I chuckle, tucking her head under
my chin. I can’t think of anything to add to that, though, so I
don’t say anything.
After a long moment, I remember the condom. “Where’s
the closest bathroom?”
“Across the hall,” she mumbles, her face muffled by the
pillow.
Smiling, I climb over her, doing my best not to disturb her.
I snag my boxers off the ground and peek into the hall to
make sure no one catches me. It’s all clear, so I hustle
across then close the door behind me. Making quick work of
the condom, I clean up and hurry back to Penny’s room.
Sliding in next to her, I drag the comforter up and over us.
Her shoulders are chilly against my chest, so I make sure to
tuck her in. She cuddles in closer, sighing. The simple
adjustment sends tenderness through my chest, filling me
with a kind of contentedness I’ve never experienced before.
There’s no sick father or money concerns here, no worries
about the future. There’s only Penny, pressed against me,
her breathing slow and steady. With everything that’s falling
to pieces in my life, whatever is happening with her is a
bright spot in an otherwise murky landscape.
I’ll do everything I can to hold onto that as long as I can.
OceanofPDF.com
 Penny

I CAN’T REMEMBER EVER waking in my room at the house

and being warm. But with Griff sprawled next to me, I’ve
never been more comfortable. I burrow into the covers,
sighing as I wiggle myself closer into his arms. Except, when
my backside presses against him, I realize that he’s awake
and hard against me.
He nuzzles my ear. “Good morning.”
I hum, stretching. But that only seems to wake him up
further, and he swivels his hips, pushing more fully against
me. His hands cover my bare breasts. We didn’t even bother
to get dressed last night, though Griff kept his boxers on
when he came back from the bathroom.
Thoughts of the bathroom make me squirm. “Hang on.” I
scurry over him, all naked limbs. I snag a shirt and shorts
out of my pajama drawer, peek into the hall, then hustle
across to the bathroom.
 When I appear in the mirror, I nearly shriek. My hair is in
knots around my face, and my makeup from last night runs
in smears under my eyes. After I go to the bathroom, I use
my fingers to tame my hair the best I can because my brush
is in my room. Then, I wash my face and brush my teeth.
Feeling more presentable, I hustle across the hall. Griff waits
in the center of the room, plants a kiss on my cheek, then
disappears into the bathroom.
Without him there, I don’t know what to do with myself in
my own room. Should I crawl back into bed? Should I sit? By
the time he returns, I’m still awkwardly standing in the
center of the room.
He closes the door softly behind me, his eyes uncertain.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” I retreat to my dresser, snag my brush, and run
it through my hair. “Nothing at all.”
His brow wrinkles, and he folds his arms over his chest.
“Are you being weird?”
I glare at him. “I’m never weird.”
“Oh, you can be weird.” He waves his hand over me.
“This? Definitely a case of weirds.”
“It’s not a disease you catch, Griff. You make it sound
contagious.”
“I sure hope it’s not. Only one of us can be weird at a
time.” He winks at me, and I can’t help but giggle. He
nudges his head toward the bed. “Snuggle before I need to
take the walk of shame out of here?”
 I hurry onto the still-unmade bed, scooting over to make
room for him, and he slides in next to me. When I’m curled
against him, he whispers, “You put clothes on.”
“I did,” I murmur back.
“Why?”
“Because they frown on public nudity in the house.”
“How do you feel about private nudity with me, again, in
this room?” he asks, and I lean back so I can look at him. He
waggles his eyebrows, and any awkwardness from earlier
escapes me. With some wiggling, I lose my clothes, then
help him with his boxers. When my skin presses against
him, I sigh. The way we fit together should be impossible.
He’s huge, and I’ve just gained back the weight I lost after
the stress from Teddy.
I don’t want to think about Teddy right now, so I run my
hands along the muscles on Griff’s back. Before I can get
carried away, though, he presses me onto my back and
retrieves my hands. “I think it’s my turn to check you out,
Red.” He kneels between my thighs with my legs spread on
each side.
Any protest I might have dies in my throat when he runs
his hands from my waist up my rib cage to cup my breasts.
“I love your breasts,” he murmurs, running his thumbs over
my nipples and making me gasp. “They’re so soft, and the
color of your nipples…” He leans up, his face closer to me,
and blows on the tightened peak. “They’re not pink or
peach, but this gorgeous color in the middle.”
 His mouth covers my left nipple, and I cry out. He makes
lazy circles with his tongue before moving to the other side.
Then he trails his mouth across my sternum, dragging his
lips along my stomach to my belly button. With soft licks, he
continues, in no hurry. When his mouth poises over the
center of me, he pauses, glancing up. The stark desire on
his face steals what’s left of my breath. He presses his
fingers against the soft folds of skin. “Is it okay if I kiss you
here now, Penny?”
I nod and make what I think sound like agreeable noises.
He tilts his head. “Is that a yes?”
“Hell yes.”
“Hell yes,” he agrees, then presses me open and lowers
his warm mouth onto my most sensitive skin. I whimper.
When his tongue swipes out, flat and firm along my clit, I
moan.
From there, I lose track of how I feel. He drives me hard
then pulls back the pressure in turns, sending me closer and
closer to my orgasm with each peak and retreat. I’m so
close, I find myself begging him. “Griff… please… just a little
more… please.”
He pauses outright, and when I open my eyes and find his,
he holds my gaze as he starts a pace that tosses me right
over the edge. I break into a thousand pieces, and the whole
time, I can’t look away from him.
When I begin to come down, he leans over the side of the
bed and returns with another condom. He quickly sheaths
up. He grips my hips in both hands and drags me closer,
stopping right at the entrance of me, the head of him
pressed against my still-gripping muscles. “Yes, Red?”
“Please. Yes.”
He doesn’t say anything more, only pushes inside me. My
first orgasm is still rippling through me, so it shocks the hell
out of me that the rhythm he sets has another one racing up
on its heels. We explode together in a rush that has me
questioning if I’ve ever felt anything as all-consuming and
soul-changing in my life.
After we catch our breath, he shifts away and heads back
to the bathroom, returning a minute later.
We nod off in each other’s arms again.

At dawn, we wake. We’re slow getting moving and

dressed, neither of us eager for the night to end. But though
the house doesn’t forbid male visitors, our house manager
frowns on it. She doesn’t care about the walk of shame
aspect. She doesn’t want unexpected guests stumbling
upon unprepared sisters.
I walk him down. We’re quiet on the stairs, doing our best
to keep the creaks to a minimum. When we get out on the
porch, I pull the door closed behind me, making sure not to
lock myself out. I had thrown on the fluffy cardigan I keep at
my desk for when I get cold, and now I hug my arms around
myself. “What are your plans for the day?”
 He buries his hands in his pockets and shrugs.
“Homework. I am going to see my dad as well.”
“How’s he doing?” We didn’t have time to do much
talking. He mentioned his father is still in the hospital, but in
a regular room now. He hasn’t said much about it, though
I’ve asked. Only that his father was improving.
“He still sleeps a lot. And he’s on a lot of medicines.”
“He’s been in the hospital for almost two weeks, right?”
“A week and a half.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Yeah.” He rubs the back of his head. “They’re hoping he’ll
be able to move to a rehab facility by the end of the week
so he can start recovery from the stroke.”
“Stroke?” My eyes widen. “I thought you said he was in for
a heart procedure.”
“Yeah.” He glances away. “He had a stroke. During the
procedure.”
“Jesus, Griff. That’s awful. What are the doctors saying?
Do they have any information for you guys?” As I ask the
questions, I wonder why I don’t know the answers already.
I’ve seen him a handful of times this week, spent hours with
him. He was in my bed all night. His father’s hospitalization
after a stroke seems like something he could have shared
with me.
“Only that he appears to improve every day.” He doesn’t
continue. I can only stare at him. Griff doesn’t say much
about himself. He’s a good listener, and he gets
uncomfortable with attention. But I figured that things
between us were different, especially now.
It’s not that he needs to tell me anything. He doesn’t. But
I don’t understand why he didn’t. I’ve told him about Teddy
and about my family, more or less. It strikes me that I don’t
know much about Griff’s family. When we went to see Colin
fight, he went to speak with him by himself. There was
security, so I didn’t think of it. Considering how little I’ve
learned about his father, I wonder if he just prefers privacy.
A stab of hurt races through me, but I push it aside. Not
everyone’s an open book. It might take him time to let me
into all the details of his life.
I want him to. Spending time with Griff is eye-opening. He
doesn’t expect me to be anything but myself, and he’s
never been anything but supportive. When I received my
first rejection from one of my law school applications this
week, he took me for ice cream and told me all the reasons
why I’ll still find the right fit. I feel… good with him. Happy. I
want to share all the things in my head with him, and I
definitely want to share my bed with him again.
I search for something to say. “Did you want me to come
with you?”
He waves me off, shaking his head. “You don’t have to do
that. He’s hardly awake, and the place is full of germs and
sick people.”
“Oh. Right.” I try for a smile. That does sound awful. It
bothers me that he wouldn’t want me to be there while he
faced that.
“I’ll text you later, we can schedule our week then.” He
pulls me into his arms then and covers my lips with his. As
always, I feel the contact into my toes. It’s over too soon.
“Maybe we can even find some time this week to go out
together. Something that’s not training, not school or
hockey related.”
“Are you asking me out on a date, Griffin Parker?” I tease
him.
Maybe it’s my imagination, but I’m sure a soft flush covers
his cheeks. The lopsided grin he gives me dispels my
concerns from earlier. He might not be ready to share all of
the details of his life, but that smile and the look in his blue
eyes? Those are mine.
“I am, Eleanor Hampshire.”
I press my palm to my chest, pretending to look around.
“That’s my long-dead nanny. I’m just Penny.”
He flicks a stray curl on my shoulder. “You’re my Red.”
Then he winks at me and steps down off the porch, tucking
his hands into his pocket. “Talk to you later.”
I watch him go, rocking back and forth from toe to heel
with a stupid grin on my face.

OceanofPDF.com
 Griff

MY FATHER’S OFFICE AT the gym has never been so clean. I

lean back in the desk chair and sigh. It took all afternoon,
but I moved the paperwork he kept at the house into the
office and organized his filing system. I uploaded the most
current reports into an accounting program that should
make bookkeeping easier as we move forward. I also have a
better grasp on our payroll, thank God. As far as I can tell,
my father’s former method required a lot of mental math
and hardly any record keeping. The numbers for the gym
still aren’t good. We’re losing money every month. It’s not a
hemorrhage—more like death by a thousand cuts. But at
least the financial information is neat and in one place.
In the center of the desk, the mortgage paperwork from
First United Bank is in a tidy stack. My fingers tap an
anxious cadence on it. It’s exactly as my father explained it
—a cash-out refinance. The rate isn’t horrible, all things
considered, but as far as I can tell, the money will only keep
the gym afloat for another six months to a year. There’s no
plan for what happens after that.
I spin the chair to the left so I can stare out the window
into the gym. The place is filling up as guys finish their
workday and stop by to work out before they get home for
the night. There will be another lull at dinnertime, and then
the late-night wave will begin.
Documenting the past three years of income and
expenses showed me that business has remained steady.
The number of members we carry has remained constant or
slightly higher from year to year. If it wasn’t for the drop in
my father’s private-training income, the place would turn a
profit. But it’s been a mistake to assume that money would
continue forever. If I’ve learned anything in my finance and
business courses, it’s that business planning requires both
best-case and worst-case scenario assumptions. My dad
never planned for the worst.
The only option—if we plan to keep the place open and
make it profitable again—is to expand. We can’t run classes
out of our current place. There’s not enough space, and I
suspect it will turn off our current clients. I still think that we
should buy the building next door. If First United will offer
my father a mortgage based on the financials they saw on
the business, maybe they would give us a small-business
loan to expand. I’ve already started a business plan and
gathered the documents I’ll need to plead our case.
 Pop didn’t think we could take on a project like this, but
I’m not willing to let the gym fold. Jake depends on this
income, and I don’t know what will happen to Pop’s financial
stability if it goes under. Over the past couple of weeks, I
agree more and more with Colin. I can’t wrap my head
around the gym, not being in Chesterboro. It doesn’t feel
right to me. This place was a huge part of who I was growing
up, of who I am. I don’t know what that means longer term
for me, but I know that it’s not as easy for me to cut ties
with my home as I expected it would be.
I watch my brother work with two older gentlemen across
the room. They’re doing Brazilian jiu-jitsu, but Jake’s
focusing on balance work. There’s a lot of good that’s done
here. I can’t help but think that we could improve on that.
If I’m serious about exploring improvements, I need to
know what I’m getting myself into. I know how much the
building next door is going for, but that doesn’t include the
cost to renovate the place to our specifications.
I reach for my cell and text Decker.
Hey, dickhead. If you have a minute, could you or your
dad stop by today or tomorrow to give me a quote at the
gym? Decker will know what I’m getting myself into. Then I
can decide if I should approach First United about a business
loan.
As I put my phone back down, I wait for the panic. A
business loan and assuming responsibility for the gym is a
huge undertaking. Except it might not be. Just because I
would have an ownership stake in the business doesn’t
mean that I need to be actively involved. Plenty of people
are silent partners in investment properties and
opportunities.
Smiling, I lean back in my dad’s comfortable chair, folding
my fingers behind my head. This could turn out even better
than I expected. I could be a part owner of a profitable
business as I build a strong financial career. Someday, I
could end up in graduate school.
As the possibilities swirl, there’s a knock on the glass. Jake
doesn’t wait to throw open the office door. “I need to go.
Can you cover with Mr. Tilden and Mr. Singer?”
“Sure.” I push away from the desk and stand. “What’s up?
Are you okay?” My brother’s face is pale, his eyes wide.
“Emma. She’s bleeding.” Jake doesn’t waste words, so it’s
no surprise when he doesn’t wait or explain further, only
heads for the door. I fall in step beside him.
“Bleeding. What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. But I need to get her to the hospital.” He
fishes in his pocket, looking for his keys.
“What about Ben?” They pulled their son, Ben, out of
daycare a few weeks ago. Because Emma hasn’t been
working as much, they could afford it.
“Her mom is on her way over. She’s going to watch Ben.”
He hurries out to the street where he parked his car.
I clap him on the shoulder, stopping him. “Jake?”
 He meets my eyes, and the fear I see there reaches into
my stomach and squeezes it. I pull him into a hug. I don’t
offer him any empty promises because I don’t know what is
going to happen. Instead, I say, “I’m here if you need
anything. Let me know.”
He nods, and his eyes are watery. Hurrying, he climbs into
his car and leaves.
I watch him brake at the corner and head left toward
home, staring after him even when he’s gone. I can’t
imagine what he’s going through. Bleeding during
pregnancy is risky for the baby and the mom. Worrying
about the baby and about Emma must be terrifying. If
something like that ever happened to Penny…
I shake my head. She’s never been far from my mind this
week, even though we haven’t had our date night like I
promised yet. I talked with my father yesterday, then spent
the day here going through files and numbers. My thoughts
would stray to her when I needed a break or something to
lift me up, my own safe place. For Jake, Emma’s his haven. I
can’t even imagine what he must be feeling.
I have little time to think about it, because I need to step
in with Jake’s clients. After their session, he has another
scheduled. I’m supposed to meet Penny at the sorority
house, but I text and ask if she minds coming to the gym
after hours for our session instead.
Is everything okay?
 I’ll explain when you get here. I pause, then add, see you
soon.
I rush through closing, clearing the register and cleaning
the equipment. I’m finishing up as the bell at the front
jingles, and Penny’s in the door jamb, tapping her knuckles
against the glass. “Hey,” she offers, leaning against the
frame on her hip.
I put the spray bottle on the front desk and chuck the rag
toward the washing machine in the back. Rubbing my hands
on my thighs, I don’t stop until I pull her into my arms.
Her weight is soft against me, and I breathe her in, allow
her nearness to soothe me. She squeezes me back. After
long moments, she asks, “You okay?”
I lean back, glancing down at her. She searches my face,
and I want to spill my guts. Once I do, though, I’m afraid it’ll
open it all up, every messed up financial issue and personal
struggle I’ve been keeping to myself, how I’m barely holding
everything together. We’ve talked almost every day, but I
steer the conversations away from anything too deep. I kept
telling myself that she didn’t need to know, that this was fun
and light. But as I gaze into her face, I see something I
haven’t recognized before—she’s bracing herself. She
expects me to brush her off, and it hurts her.
“You can talk to me, you know,” she offers, and her smile
is a shield that tightens my chest. I’ve convinced myself
that I’m protecting us, but that’s a lie. I’ve only been
protecting myself.
 I swallow. “My brother’s wife is pregnant. Emma. She’s in
the hospital.”
“Oh, no.” Penny’s eyes round, concern bright in their
depths. “Do they know what’s going on?”
I shake my head. “This pregnancy has been hard on her.
She’s been really sick. They’re running more tests.” She
rubs her hands along my arms. “Jake’s with her, but we
don’t know what’s going to happen. He may need to take
some time off to be with her and take care of their son,
Ben.” I scrub a hand in my hair. “He handles a lot of the
shifts at the front desk. I’m not sure how I’m going to cover
those for him with my schoolwork, hockey, and my private
clients.” My smile probably looks sickly because that’s how I
feel. Except… now that the words are out, the weight
doesn’t feel as heavy. My brain churns as my panic
subsides, offering me solutions I hadn’t considered earlier. “I
can probably call Decker. He might help me out some
nights. And there’s another one of Jake’s clients, Paul. He
might…”
“I can help you,” she says, cutting me off. I must look
surprised, because she continues. “You have a lot going on,
and all I have is school and our lessons right now. I have
extra time. My Monday, Wednesday, Friday classes are all in
the morning. I can be here until dinner.” She glances
around. “What needs to be done? Just the front desk?”
I nod, still too surprised to speak.
 “Is there much to do? Just checking people in, collecting
cash?” She moves to the desk, surveying the equipment.
We updated our system a few years ago, after I convinced
Dad that clients wanted to check in with key fobs instead of
having to sign in manually. “Would it be okay if I studied
here, during downtimes?”
“You don’t have to do this…” I start, holding up my hand
and shaking my head. 
She cuts me off. “Neither do you, yet you’re here. You
have a lot going on, Griff. And I admire you want to take
care of your responsibilities, but you don’t have to do this
alone. I—,” she glances away briefly before she meets my
eyes again, “—care about you. Please let me help.”
She cares about me? That should surprise me, but it
doesn’t. It’s more shocking that she said the words out loud.
I’ve known that there’s more going on between us than
something light and only fun. I’ve been pretending
otherwise, but that doesn’t make it the truth.
I’ve been fighting down my feelings for her and pushing
aside any hope that we could make things work between us
longer term. I’m not romantic enough to think we’ll end up
together. But even considering an end is lurking in the
future hurts in ways that feel impossible to heal.
I don’t know if any of that matters anymore, though,
because I am pretty sure I’m falling in love with her.
Emotion like I’ve never felt before creeps up my throat,
and I need to swallow hard to speak around it. I cup her face
in my hands and drop a soft kiss on her peachy lips. It’s full
of everything inside me I wish I could say. But words like
‘love’ make promises I’m not sure I can keep, so I keep them
to myself. 
When I speak, my voice is rougher than usual. “You’re an
amazing woman, Red.” 
She rocks from heel to toe, tucking her hands behind her
back. The smile she gives me is pure impertinence. “I
definitely am.”
Chuckling, I cover her mouth again. The kiss starts lazy
and sweet, but before long, it becomes more insistent. Her
hands fall on my shoulders, and her fingers press in. I grip
her hips, pulling her closer, needing to feel her curves
against me. I angle my head to gain better access to her
mouth, and she moans. 
The sound returns me to the present and reminds me
we’re standing in front of the full-length windows at the
front of the gym. I pull back, though I’m unable to resist
dropping one more quick kiss on her lips before I step away. 
Her pout is adorable. “Damn it, that was just getting
good.”
“I’ll make it up to you.” I motion to the computer on the
front desk. “After I show you how to run this thing, what do
you say that we blow this place and training off tonight and
instead, we can grab some food somewhere? There’s that
new Italian place everyone’s raving about…”
 She shakes her head. “I went there with my mother. It was
fine. But you know what sounds really good?”
I fold her against me. “What?”
“We can run to the truck stop, grab some burgers and
fries, and maybe one of their milkshakes?” She lifts her
voice hopefully.
“Now you’re speaking my language.” The truck stop right
outside of town is a local gem. The ambiance isn’t much,
more taxidermy and wood paneling than sleek or modern,
but the food is some of the best in the area.
“Then you’ve got a deal.” She holds out her hand between
us.
I stare it a moment before I sweep her up in my arms. She
squeals as I plant another kiss on her lips. I don’t think I’ll
ever get enough of the taste of her mouth, and I’m afraid I’ll
never want to.

OceanofPDF.com
 Penny

THE HOCKEY BOOSTERS ORGANIZE a bonfire before the

team’s last home game. It’s in one of the football parking
lots—empty this time of the year. Good thing, because the
place is filled with students and local fans. There are some
news vans, too. Our guys are going to the playoffs. They’re
newsworthy.
There’s a deejay, and the music is being piped through
huge speakers. There are plenty of hydro flasks around—the
college BYOB container of choice. 
I’m with my sorority sisters. This kind of school event is an
excellent opportunity to recruit, so most of us are wearing
our letters. Well, I have mine on, but they’re hidden under
Griff’s away jersey. Around me, my sisters dance and sing,
chatting among themselves and with others. I smile,
clapping along to the music, and stand with Violet and Prue
when I see Teddy. He’s with some of the football players, his
hands tucked in his pockets, wearing a Chesterboro Football
hoodie, staring at me.
I wait for the wave of panic, but it doesn’t come. There’s
only anger, and that realization fills me with smug
satisfaction. The more time and space I’ve had since the
night he tried to break me, the stronger I’ve become. Not
only physically, but in every way that’s important. I’m not
the same as before, and I’m not fine like my mother has
been hoping. I’m different, better I think, but I don’t really
care about that. I’m in charge of what I am now, and that’s
the part that I’m proudest of. 
I glance away from Teddy now because he doesn’t matter.
Not to me, not anymore.
The hockey team is being announced, and there’s a roar
when they run through the tunnel that the cheerleaders
have made for them. I clap and scream along, all the while
looking for a tall wall of muscle with electric blue eyes.
When I catch sight of him, through the crowd, that familiar
zing of awareness skates through me, and when our eyes
meet, his face splits into a grin that makes my heart flip.
He looks heartbreakingly handsome in his home jersey,
standing with the rest of his teammates. Between both of us
picking up shifts at the desk at the gym, his hockey practice,
and our schoolwork, things have been busy, but we’ve spent
every night this week together. We plan to spend the night
together after this event, and I’m looking forward to it.
 The deejay says a bunch of stuff to rile up the crowd, and
then he hands the microphone over to Declan. He talks
about how far they’ve come, some inspiring stuff to pump
up his team, and then he lets the deejay spin some more
music. 
The team disperses into the crowd, and I’m sure that Griff
will find me. I glance down at his away jersey and tug at the
bottom. I tied the front into a knot, so it cinched at my waist
instead of hanging to mid-thigh. A flare of pride washes over
me. I love that the hockey girls do this tradition, wearing
their boyfriends’ jerseys. Some football girlfriends would
sport their guys’ numbers or wear gear with their names on
it, but nothing as coordinated as the hockey girls. In fact,
since we all sit in the same section, the other hockey
girlfriends have started to look familiar, and I’ve grown
closer to Shea and Ivy. It feels more like a family there than
like a group of significant others.
Is that what I am—Griff’s girlfriend? I smile. We have said
as m, but we spend a lot of time together. This entire week,
I’ve either stayed at his place or he’s sneaked into the
house to be with me. We text constantly. I don’t need a label
—I have him.
“Look how cute you are.” Teddy’s voice wipes the smile off
my face, and I grimace as I meet his smirking gaze. “You’re
wearing his jersey, like a good little girlfriend.” He’s with
another football player. I don’t know the guy, but he’s also
wearing a Chesterboro football sweatshirt. Mostly, he looks
uncomfortable.
“Come on, Little. Let’s go.” The guy I don’t know tugs at
Teddy’s sleeve, but Teddy shakes him off. He shrugs at me,
then leaves.
Alone now, I mimic Teddy’s stance and fold my arms over
my chest. But I realize the position takes away my
readiness, so I drop my hands to my sides. Balancing my
weight between my sneakered feet, I glare at him. “Leave
me alone, Teddy.”
“You guys are a real thing now, huh?” His snide smile is
sharp as a knife. “The jersey… hell, I hear he’s even got you
working at his gym now. Hanging out with the rest of the
trash.”
“Fuck you.” It’s not a creative response, but it suits my
purpose.
“Classy, Pen. What would you mother say?”
“Is there a problem?” Griff’s voice behind me is a salve to
my soul. I can’t even see him, but knowing he’s there, I take
my first real breath since Teddy arrived.
“No. Teddy was just commenting on my upbringing.” I
narrow my eyes at him. “And he was just leaving.”
Griff steps next to me. He doesn’t touch me, though. I half
expected he’d fold me against him, tuck me under his arm.
But that wouldn’t make any sense. Neither of us could
protect ourselves like that. He casts a glance at me. “Are
you sure?”
 I nod at him, and the grin I give is truthful. “Absolutely. I’m
fine.”
“Great.” He offers Teddy a nod. “Then you heard the lady.”
After that, he makes a shooing motion, as if he’s hurrying
along a child or swatting at a fly. He says nothing else, only
stares Teddy down without any expression. In response,
Teddy gives him the finger and turns back into the crowd.
We both watch him until he disappears.
It’s only after Teddy’s gone that Griff reaches for my hand.
“Are you really okay?”
“I really am.” I glance up at him, squeezing his hand and
offering him a smile. “I don’t like him, but I didn’t panic.” It’s
the truth. Though I wouldn’t have wanted to see him, the
interaction proves that I can handle my emotions. That’s a
big win. He nods curtly, his face grim. My own smile fades.
“How much did you hear?” I try to remember what Teddy
had been saying right before Griff arrived.
My stomach sinks when I remember. He was mocking me
about working at the gym. “Griff…”
He stops whatever I’m about to say when he sweeps me
into his arms, pulling me up and off my feet. “You look great
in my jersey,” he says close to my ear, nuzzling in. I
squeeze him, trying to figure out what to say. But I’ve
already told him that I want to help at the gym. More than
that, I’ve really enjoyed working there. The guys who visit
the gym are an eclectic mix. There are some real
characters, but also some guys who keep to themselves. No
one has been disrespectful, and I like studying with the
background cacophony of their voices.
Griff lowers me to my feet again, holding me against him.
“He keeps approaching you.”
I already told him about the run in I had with Teddy at the
country club. My mouth twists in distaste. “He’s an asshole.”
“I know I mentioned it before, but have you considered a
restraining order?” He rubs his hands along my arms.
I wince. “My father offered to set it up in the beginning.
But everyone involved assured him that it wouldn’t be
necessary.” When everything first happened with Teddy, I
hadn’t wanted to draw any attention to myself. My father
handled the legal aspects while I recovered. I wanted to be
left alone. I’d been ashamed, embarrassed, as if what
happened had been my fault. More than once, I wondered if
things would have been different if I kept my mouth shut. If I
hadn’t provoked him, would he have still hurt me?
Now, I can see how misplaced that embarrassment was.
I’m a grown adult, with as much right to say what I want and
stand up for myself as anyone else. He had no right to put
his hands on me. Back then, I didn’t ask for a restraining
order because I had wanted everything to go away. After
this recent conversation with Teddy, I can see that the only
way for him to go away is to make him.
“I’ll call my father tomorrow,” I finally say.
Griff nods. Glancing around, he wrinkles his nose. “I don’t
have to stay here anymore, if you’d like to go.”
 “Don’t you need to go to Shepherd?” The team will be
there after the bonfire.
“I don’t care about hockey right now.” He leans forward.
“You look great in this jersey, but I’d rather see it on my
floor.”
I shiver at his words. “That sounds like a great place for
it.”
He chuckles, tucks me under his arm, and we head his car.

OceanofPDF.com
 Griff

THE NEXT WEEK AND a half fly by. Between the coach’s
relentless practice schedule and the gym, the days don’t
have enough hours.
Thank God Emma’s home and stable. Though she’s on
bed rest, Jake has come back to work more. Her mother has
been staying with Emma and helping with Ben. But the
doctors said that she might need to remain in bed
throughout the rest of her pregnancy. Something with her
placenta… Between Emma and Pop, I’ll be happy to not see
the inside of a hospital or read up on any other life-
threatening again soon.
But with Pop in rehab and Emma stabilized, our situation
doesn’t feel as volatile. Now, if we can close the deal on the
business loan and move forward with the expansions to the
gym, the Parker family might get back to something that
looks like normal around here.
 It’s been rough, only seeing Penny at night or when we’ve
been able to squeeze some hours to spend together in
between the cracks. My three roommates were out of town
this weekend in New York City for a concert, so Penny and I
spent most of our down time at my place. She says she
doesn’t mind the chaotic pace, that things will slow down
after playoffs. Still, I can’t imagine this is what she signed
up for with me.
We are still getting some of her training in. I’ve insisted on
it. After Teddy talked to her at the bonfire last weekend, it
reiterated the importance to me. Penny has become a solid
fighter in the past couple of months, albeit still a beginner.
She asked her father to draw up a restraining order against
him. There’s a process, though, so nothing has become
official yet. I won’t breathe easy, though, until Teddy is out
of Chesterboro and far away from her.
While I’m going to playoffs this weekend, Penny and Jake
will cover most of the hours at the gym. But we also hired
someone else to help—Rich Florence. Jake and I trust him
because he has been coming to the gym for years. He’s
recently retired, but he wanted to do something in his spare
time. He agreed to cover the mornings while I’m at school.
It’s Monday night, and I’m scheduled to take a bus
tomorrow morning to Pittsburgh for the first weekend of the
playoffs. Our first game is Thursday night, and if we win
that, we’ll play again on Saturday. The rest of my
roommates are out tonight. Declan and Linc are with their
girlfriends, and I have no clue where Ash is. He’s been
pretty sketchy lately, honestly. He’s distracted since he
started hanging out with his high school ex-girlfriend. She
was supposed to be dating someone else, and she and Ash
were supposed to be friends. Suspect, if you ask me. Then
again, I haven’t been around the apartment much. Between
Penny, the gym, and school, I pretty much only show up
here to sleep. Now that I think about it, I’m probably the
sketchy one.
Chuckling, I stir the pot of pasta water on the stove. Penny
said she would be here after her Tuesday late class. Jake’s
responsible for the gym tonight, so I promised I’d make her
dinner and we could spend the night relaxing together. I
picked up homemade ravioli and pesto from a local deli; I
bought her some fancy cupcakes from the bakery
downtown, and there’s a movie on Netflix that seems right
up her alley. Some romantic comedy. It doesn’t look like the
sweet kind, either. The trailer has some raunchy humor. I
think she’s going to like it.
Still smiling, my phone buzzes with a text—Penny. I’m
here! A waving hand emoji follows that message. Happiness
floods me as I hit the buzzer that unlocks the front door.
I’m drying my hands when she opens the door and bounds
through, her red hair falling in waves around her face. “I’m
in!” she squeals, throwing herself into my arms, wrapping
her legs around my waist. She grips an envelope in her hand
and waves it in the air. “I’m into Temple Law School!”
 “No way!” I squeeze her and plant a kiss on her cheek,
taking in the shine in her eyes and the flush in her face.
“That’s amazing, Red. Did you just get the letter?” I ask,
setting her back on her feet.
She nods and holds up her phone. “They must know when
it’s delivered because right after that, I got this email.” She
turns the screen so she can read. “Dear Miss Hampshire,
we’re so pleased to offer you admission.” She hands it to
me. “There’s a bunch of other stuff, but that’s the best part
of the letter.”
I scan the text, and my face hurts for smiling. “Damn it,
Red, if I’d known you were going to go and get accepted to
law school today, I would have made something fancier.”
She does a happy dance and throws her arms around me
again. “Everything feels fancy right now.”
“Not as fancy as you and your fancy law school
acceptance.” I click my heels together and offer her a bow.
“I know!” She claps, and her laugh is full of triumph and
joy, one of the best sounds I’ve ever heard.
I open the fridge. “I think there’s a bottle… Ha. There it
is.” I locate a bottle of wine in the bottom drawer. “Shea’s
always bringing high-end stuff over here.” I read the label.
“Prosecco. That’s right. She announced the other day that
Prosecco goes best with pizza. Don’t know about that, but
hope it tastes good with Razelli’s raviolis.”
“Yum. Razelli’s Italian is the best.”
 I get to work on the wrapper around the cork. Bent over
the sink, with my back away from her, I allow the full impact
of her acceptance to wash over me. I knew she’d get
accepted to a law school, but Temple is a real place, not just
some foggy idea of where she’ll be in the fall. No need to
worry about Teddy leaving now. Penny won’t be here either.
Will I?
I got invited for a call back interview after playoffs at a
credit card company in Delaware. It’s a great opportunity.
Their corporation partners with University of Delaware’s
MBA program. If I work for them, they will provide tuition
reimbursement. It’s ideal, because I wouldn’t have the funds
to continue my education without that feature, and an MBA
would really help me in the financial world.
But though I scheduled the interview, I’ve been having
second thoughts. These past weeks, it’s become clear that
my father’s right—Jake’s a hard worker, but he lacks
business sense. Though I’m getting the ball rolling with
expanding the gym, I have no idea who is going to oversee
it if my father doesn’t improve significantly. Even if he does,
I’m not sure it would be a good idea to put that kind of
strain on him.
If I move to Delaware and take that job, will I be able to
devote the time to that career and be there for my family?
Shaking my head, I pop the cork on the prosecco bottle. It
isn’t the time to worry about that, and I’m certainly not
about to share that with Penny right now. We’re celebrating
her tonight.
I snag two juice glasses from the cabinet. “This isn’t a
champagne flute kind of place, Red. Hope you don’t mind
drinking out of Linc’s orange juice cups.”
“I’ll drink it straight from the bottle right now, if we have
to.” She motions to the bottle. “Fire that up.”
Chuckling, I pour the glasses and hand her one. Lifting
mine, I tip my head to her. “To your acceptance to Temple
and bright legal future. I never had any doubts. Cheers, Red.
You deserve everything good.”
Her eyes bright, she taps her glass with mine and takes a
sip. She reaches over the kitchen island and squeezes my
hand, emotion shining in her gaze. I swallow the prosecco,
and the bubbles burn my throat. Or maybe that’s the burn
of holding down words I want to say. Words like, ‘I love you’
and ‘you mean so much to me.’ Instead, I settle for, “I’m so
proud of you, Pen.”
She sets down her glass and rounds the island, stepping
into my arms. As I tuck her against me, I reach over and
turn off the boiling pasta water. Neither of us wants to eat
now. Instead, I sweep her into my arms and head down the
hall to my bedroom.
There’s time to worry about the future later. Right now, I
plan to celebrate with the woman I love.

OceanofPDF.com
 Penny

AFTER GRIFF LEAVES FOR Pittsburgh on Tuesday morning,

my hours drag on. I go to class as usual, then work my
hours at the gym. Late night Tuesday, I even go out to the
bar with some of my sorority sisters. I hope that some
dancing will tire me out, but I still find it hard to fall asleep
without Griff next to me.
How is it possible to get used to someone’s nighttime
presence after only a few weeks?
Bad rest on Tuesday night means a sleepy me on
Wednesday, but I make it to my classes on time before
heading to the gym for my afternoon hours. I run in to the
coffee shop a block away and grab a latte. The semester is
ending, and I need to work on some papers and re-read
some texts for finals. They’re government classes, though,
so that’s going to require some caffeine.
I get settled at the front, laptop out and ready for learning.
Rich, the older gentleman that Jake and Griff hired, clocks
out as I clock in to take over. We’re shuffling things around
as the bell at the door chimes. I’m saying goodbye to Rich
as the key fob device beeps. “Good afternoon,” I say,
glancing at the screen to read the name. “Mr…” I don’t
finish, because my eyes fall on Teddy. “You.” 
“Is everything all right, Miss Penny?” Rich asks, his
massive arms folded over his chest. Teddy glares at him. Did
he always have such a chip on his shoulder? Why didn’t I
ever notice it before?
“This is my ex-boyfriend, Mr. Florence.”
“You weren’t expecting him?”
“No.” I shake my head. To Teddy, I ask, “What are you
doing here?”
“I need a place to work out for the summer. I thought I’d
try this place.”
“Really?” I raise my eyebrows at him. “Parkers’ Gym has
been here for years. Now you’re trying it out?”
“You’re here, aren’t you? If it’s good enough for you, I
thought I’d give it a shot.” He smirks, and I want to growl at
him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’m going to lift.” He walks
off without another word, heading toward the back and the
free weights.
“Did you want me to stay?” Rich asks under his breath
when we’re alone again. “I started his trial yesterday. I
didn’t know who he was.”
I glance around the gym. It’s lunchtime, and there are
plenty of other members here. I square my shoulders and
smile. “No, that’s okay. You don’t need to stay. Thank you,
though.” 
He covers my hand. “I’m only going to Cece’s for lunch.
Call my cell phone if you need me. I can be here lickety
split.” He snaps his fingers, and I squeeze the hand holding
mine.
“Thanks, sir. I’ll do that.”
“And I’ve told you to call me Rich,” he reminds me before
he waves and heads out the door. I wave back.
With him gone, my bravado fades. I avoid looking at the
weights as I open my computer and pull up the book I
should reread. But though my mind is reading the words, I
can’t focus on what they say. Frustrated, I retrieve my phone
from my bag and pull my texts with Griff.
I miss you. I type before deleting it. He doesn’t need to
hear that. Instead, I ask him how he is and send that.
Just finished morning practice. How’s the gym?
Of course, he knows my schedule. I hazard a glance at the
weights, but I don’t see Teddy. Good. 
Maybe I should say something about Teddy. I hesitate,
though. Tomorrow’s game is important for him and his team.
There isn’t anything he can do from there.
I miss you. I type again. This time I send it.
Miss you, too, Red. He fires back.
How’s Pittsburgh? I ask, changing the subject. The
conversation moves on to talk about the rivers and the
tunnels they drove through to get there. He tells me the
team plans to ride on an inclined plane after dinner. I don’t
know what that means, but he sounds excited. He seems
almost… lighter than he has lately, and there’s no way that
I’m going to bring up Teddy now. After a few minutes, I ask
him to call me after the inclined plane, and he agrees.
I pocket my phone, more confident after having talked
with him. Griff has a way of centering my gravity. I smile,
and even with Teddy Little feet away, I settle into the book I
need to reread. 

“Take down those last few flyers, Decker.” Jake messes

with the projector Rich brought into the gym today, angling
it against the now-cleared wall. Less than an hour ago, the
flyers and posters covered it. Some of them were classified
ads, some of them advertised upcoming events. It’s an
information hub for the members. But tonight, because it’s
the only unobstructed wall in the place, we stripped it so we
can all watch Griff’s team play their second playoff game on
a larger surface.
“I brought a big tarp,” Rich says, motioning to the door.
“Let me run out to the car and grab it.”
“Do you think we need it?” Jake asks, adjusting the focus
on the projector. “This will work.”
“But we’ll need to stare around the tape marks and
smudges. Let me just get the tarp.” Rich is already heading
for the door as Jake waves him away, and I can’t help
grinning at them both. The place is buzzing with energy, but
none of it is more apparent than the pride on Jake’s face.
Before I started helping at the gym, I barely knew him. But
now that I’ve spent so much time with him, I like Griff’s
brother. He’s rough around the edges, and he lacks social
finesse, but he’s got a good heart and he works his ass off.
It’s always as clear as day that he adores his younger
brothers. He’s constantly talking about both Griff and Colin,
his voice gruff and full of love. It’s extremely endearing.
Jake and I watched Thursday’s game together at the front
desk on my laptop. 
We put up posters on Friday morning, after Griff’s first win
on Thursday night, inviting any of our members to come for
a viewing party on Saturday. I ordered some food and Jake
provided some soft drinks and waters. The place is full, and
guys are still working out, but I’m assuming once the game
starts, they’ll settle in to watch. That’s why I’m opening a
bunch of folding chairs and setting them around in the foyer.
I don’t know the last time the floor was scrubbed, and I
don’t want anyone sitting on it. I also make a mental note to
ask Griff about the cleaning schedule in the place. The guys
take impeccable care of the gym equipment, but the
bathrooms and common spaces could use some love,
especially if they plan on expanding and bringing in more
women. The place is more “bachelor pad chic” than most
girls I know would prefer.
 The bell on the door rings, and Jake glances up. “What the
fuck…” he mutters under his breath.
I right the chair I’m wrestling with before I look up. Teddy’s
got his backpack on, his shoulders hunched as he waves his
key fob and checks in. He says nothing to anyone else, only
weaves through the chairs and heads for the weights. 
Jake joins me. “Isn’t that Teddy Little? The guy you used to
date?” He hisses at me. “The one that beat you up?”
I glare at him. “First, he attacked me. It’s not the same
thing as beating me up. That implies I was engaged
somehow, and I wasn’t. And second, yes. That’s him.”
“What the ever-loving fuck is he doing here?” I don’t know
that I’ve ever seen him so angry. Most of the time, Jake’s an
easy-going guy. This must be the Jake Parker that got caught
fighting and raising hell when he was younger.
“He came in when Rich was working, signed up for a trial
membership.”
“Does Griff know?” He glares at me. “Why didn’t I know?”
“No, Griff doesn’t know yet. I figured I could tell him after
the games this weekend. He’s kind of busy.” I prop my
hands on my hips. “And second, I’m never alone here. There
are security cameras. I have someone walk me to my car if
it’s dark. Plus, I’ve been training with Griff. Even if he
wanted to hurt me again, I’m not the same as I was then.”
“He shouldn’t be here.” Jake folds his arms over his chest
and offers me a mulish look.
 “Well, he probably won’t have a choice soon.” I reach for
another chair and unfold it. “My father filed for a restraining
order on my behalf. The hearing is on Thursday.”
“That’s still days away.”
“Yeah. I figured that I’ll just be really careful until then.”
Jake blows out an exasperated breath, shaking his head as I
continue, softening my tone. “You’re sweet to worry, Jake.
But I’m on campus with him all the time. I’m always on the
lookout. Besides, I don’t want him to have the pleasure of
me getting upset about it. I’ve ignored him, and when the
restraining order is in effect, I’ll be able to enforce that.” I
don’t tell him it frustrated me that the judge didn’t issue a
temporary order, though my father requested one. The
judge said that the danger didn’t appear dire, but I suspect
that Teddy’s father had some influence over that decision.
“You should say something to Griff.”
A pang of unease sweeps through me. “I will. Tomorrow.” I
squeeze his arm, reassuring him and myself. “Tonight, let’s
watch the game.”
His face is still sour, and he might have said more if Rich
hadn’t chosen that moment to return with the tarp for the
wall. It provides a distraction.
He hurries over, and before long, they’ve got our setup
ready for watching. 
This was Jake’s idea. He kept complaining that the screen
on my laptop was too small. I told him I wasn’t about to drag
my television in here to watch. That got him thinking about
a viewing party, and things exploded from there.
We open the streaming app, and the rink in Pittsburgh fills
the wall. Griff’s team circles on the far side of the camera,
but I can spot him perfectly. 
The last game was rough. The team they played was
incredibly physical, and as they continued to lose, the hits
got harder. At the end, they interfered with our goalie, and I
was sure that Griff and Linc were going to get into a fight. I
held my breath, but it didn’t get too violent, mostly pushing
and shoving. It didn’t keep our team from winning.
I take my seat behind the desk as the puck drops on this
game. Within the first few minutes, it’s clear this team isn’t
as physical as the last, but they’re extremely fast. They
have a few scoring chances in the first period, but after the
first intermission, our team came out from the locker room
hitting. As a strategy, it worked to slow down the speed of
play. We pull ahead. 
Well into the game, though, Griff’s roommate Ash goes
down on the ice. I cover my mouth as he struggles to get up
and Declan skates over to check on him before the trainer
joins them. The trainer gets him up, and he skates off the
ice, but he’s not putting weight on his foot. He doesn’t come
back to the game, and Griff steps up into his spot on the top
line. He plays brilliantly, as calmly and put together as
always. We win, and our entire gym goes wild.
 Jake sweeps me up into a bear hug, twirling me around.
There’s a lot of high-fives and hugs, and I realize the gym is
as much of a family as any other. With a jolt, I realize that
they’re hugging me, celebrating with me, too. Like I’m one
of them.
Maybe I am. These guys know him and care about him,
the same as me, and they’re as excited about his success as
I am. 
All except Teddy, who leaves without a word to anyone,
walking right in front of the projector. I want to give him the
finger, stick my tongue out at him, something. But I don’t.
He’s not worth my time.
Jake declares the gym closed, and within minutes, coolers
of beers appear in the foyer. I tilt my head in question. He
shrugs. “Can’t drink here if it’s open, but when it’s closed…”
More than a few guys crack open a drink, toasting Griff’s
name. Since I don’t drink, I stick to a Diet Coke, but I raise
my can as well. “To Griff. Go Bulldogs!” I cry. There are more
cheers.
I lift my phone and take some pictures so I can show Griff
tomorrow. “Everyone together.” I boss them all around until
I can see them all in my selfie. When I get a good one, I
send it to Griff’s phone.
Wish we were there, I text. I want to add so much more.
The past week, I’ve been following his lead. I want to tell
him how I feel. I want to tell him I’ve fallen in love with him,
that I love who I have become since I’ve met him. I even
love helping at the gym and his rowdy brother. For the first
time, I feel like my authentic self, and that’s in part because
he encourages me to be genuine and listen to myself.
Tomorrow, I’ll tell him that and everything in my heart.

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 Griff

“YOU NEED TO STAY far away from me.” Penny’s voice is

raspy, like she’s been throwing up all night—exactly what
she said she’s been doing. “You can’t get sick in the middle
of playoffs, and I have the plague or something.”
I prop my hand on my hip and stare up at the clear sky.
It’s a beautiful April day, nice enough that I don’t need a
jacket. The parking lot of the ice rink is clearing out. The
guys are all eager to get to their beds and sleep off the
anxiety of the weekend. When I texted Penny this morning,
she told me she felt like shit. She was up all night with a
stomach virus. I’ve looked forward to seeing her all
weekend. But that’s out of the question right now. I tamp
down my disappointment and focus on what I can do to
help. 
“Do you need anything? Crackers? Electrolytes?” My mind
spins. “I’m going to stop over on my way to the gym, drop
off some Gatorade and some bland snacks.” Already I’m
making a mental list. “Did you change your sheets?”
Her chuckle soothes my worry. “I’m drinking water, Griff.
And I changed my sheets when the fever broke.”
“That’s good.”
“I’m sure this is some twenty-four-hour nightmare. I bet I’ll
be fine tomorrow, and I can take my shift after class
tomorrow.” 
I shake my head. “No way. I don’t want you back in there
until you’re at one hundred percent.”
“Griff…”
“Red, I mean it.”
“When can I see you, though?” She sounds as
disappointed as I feel, and that makes my heart lighter.
“Soon. Just get better, okay? You sound miserable.” I sit
down on the half wall outside the rink. 
“It’s terrible.” 
Standing again, I fish around in my pocket for my keys.
“I’m on my way with Gatorade. What color?”
“Griff…” she hedges.
“Penny,” I say. “What color?”
I can hear her smile. “Orange or blue, please.”
“Coming right up.”
“Griff?” she asks softly, and I can hear her exhaustion
across the line. 
I pause on the sidewalk. I could listen to the sound of her
voice all day. “Yeah, Red?”
 “You’re the absolute best.” Her words are weak. She’s
fading fast, but her what she said fills me with
contentment. 
“I am. Get some sleep. I’ll bring reinforcements.” I wait
until she disconnects before I pocket my phone. 
The list in my head gets longer—pretzels, crackers,
Gatorade, applesauce. I pick up my pace until I hear Coach’s
voice call from behind me. “Parker, one second.”
Stopping, I jog back to him. “What’s up, Coach?” Coach
Chandler is a bear of a guy, and he doesn’t say much. When
he speaks, he usually gets right to the point.
He doesn’t disappoint me now. “If I was a betting man, I’d
say Draper’s done for the year.”
“Coach?” Ash Draper, one of my roommates and the
starting center, sustained a knee injury in last night’s game.
When I asked him, he made it sound like it wasn’t anything
much. “Ash said he should be fine.”
He snorts, shaking his head. “Stubborn one. But he’s
wrong. I’m going to shuffle the lines around. I’m putting
Declan Mitchell at center, and you’re going to take his place
on the wing for the next game.”
It’s my turn to shake my head. “Sir, you know I’ll do
whatever you need for the team, but are you sure? I’m the
guy you send out to throw his weight around. Surely you
would prefer someone else. Mikey, maybe?” 
“You’re a level head out there. When a team loses a
leader on their top line, they need someone to step in and
calm the nerves. Mikey is a talented player, but you’re a
leader. The guys look at you.”
I can only stare at him. “Declan’s the captain…” I begin.
“Of course. But there are lots of leadership roles in a
team. Mitch does the flashy stuff, talks around everyone.
You’re the rock.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “The
team will look to you for strength. That’s what I need.”
I nod. “Of course, Coach. I’ll do whatever you need.”
He squeezes my shoulder, and I wince. Chandler still has
some force in his grip. “Let’s keep this between us for now.”
I nod again, though I don’t like the idea of keeping secrets
from my roommates. But if he’s going to juggle lines, it
won’t be long before they all know about this, anyway. 
He offers a wave as he heads inside the rink. “Practice
tomorrow at three.”
“Yes, sir.” Watching him go inside, his words echo in my
head. A team leader? I never thought of myself like that. I
keep to myself, do my job. 
It’s always a shock to hear how others see you. I’m
flattered the coach turned to me to help.
Shaking my head, I shove that to the back of my mind and
jog toward the parking lot. Right now, my girl needs
Gatorade. And probably ginger ale, too.

Between picking up extra shifts at the gym, my end of the

year schoolwork, and coach’s relentless practices, Monday
and Tuesday fly by in an exhausted haze. 
I must really be out of the loop, because when I stop back
at the apartment with the guys after Tuesday practice, Ash
is shell-shocked in the living room. Not only were he and
Cami Alvarez dating, but now they’ve broken up. He’s
messed up about it, but I didn’t even know they were
together, so I have little to offer to the conversation. Declan
and Linc slide in, though. Appears Ash didn’t tell Cami he’s
hurt. I don’t say it, but I agree with the others—that’s fucked
up. Declan and Linc are both in stable relationships, so I let
them go to it and head to my room.
Tossing my dirty clothes in the pile of laundry I’ll need to
see to soon, I flop down on my bed and pull up Penny’s
contact information. 
We’ve talked briefly over the past two days, but when she
answers this time, she sounds almost back to normal. “Hey!
How was practice?”
“Exhausting,” I answer. “I’m going to eat something, then
get some sleep. I’m on the early shift in the morning.” 
“I’ll be in for the afternoon tomorrow.”
“Are you sure? Are you better?” 
“Yup. I’ve gone an entire day without a fever or being
actively sick. I’m ready.”
“I’m glad.” I realize how that sounds, so I hurry on. “That
you’re feeling better. Not about the shift.”
She chuckles. “Why don’t you get some sleep? You sound
completely wiped out.”
 “I have a bunch of gym bills I should go through.” I picked
up all the mail at Pop’s place on Sunday, and I snagged
what was in the mailbox at the gym. But I haven’t found the
time to sort it yet.
“It’ll be slow tomorrow morning. You can manage it then,”
she offers. “You don’t want to get run down. Not now.” I told
her I’d step up to the first line for the last games. Her pride
was apparent even over the phone line.
“You’re right.” The bills will keep until the morning. “Hey,
did you know Ash was dating Cami Alvarez?” 
“No way!” She squeals. I roll my eyes, smiling. “They were
spending a lot of time together…”
“Well, they’ve already broken up.”
“Oh.” She sighs. “That was fast.”
“I think we’ve been busy, Red. We might have missed
some stuff.”
“Wouldn’t want to be busy with anyone else but you,
Griff.” There’s truth and adoration in her words, and it
squeezes my heart. I try not to assign too much weight to
her words. We’re dating, sure, but neither of us has
mentioned anything serious.
Keeping things light was my idea. It’s for the best when
we move on at the end of the year.
Still, I can’t help saying, “I miss you.” 
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, and I hear the smile in
her tone. It makes me grin, too. “Now get some sleep.”
 We say goodbye, and I wolf down the snacks I brought
from the kitchen. I leave my dishes, too tired to even go
back to the kitchen and clean them. Instead, I pass out.
The alarm wakes me way too early. I’m still hardly
conscious when I unlock the gym door at seven.
There are only the few early riser regulars, and they get
settled in minutes. I’m here until nine-thirty, when Jake will
take over for the morning. That gives me two hours to put
off doing the mail.
Except that’s not the responsible thing to do. With a heavy
sigh, I retrieve the bag of paperwork from my backpack and
start opening. I divide it into urgent bills, bills that can wait,
and trash. Toward the bottom of the pile, I see a letter from
First United Bank, where I applied for our business loan.
My heart picks up as I rip into it. It’s only a letter-sized
envelope, though, smaller than I expect for an approval
packet.
Because it isn’t an approval. We are sorry to inform you
we have denied your application for funding.
The paper slips out of my fingers, floating to the counter.
How is that possible? I spent hours on my paperwork, ran all
the numbers myself. The terms and conditions for the loan
are more favorable to the bank than the personal loan they
originally offered my father. Maybe there’s a
miscommunication, or I could have filled something out
wrong. I swear I checked the forms dozens of times, but
there’s a chance. I’ll need to call when they open to this
loan officer—Michael Tallon—and find out the basis for their
decision.
Still, I stare out the window into the bright morning. What
if this isn’t wrong? It’s been at least two weeks since I
submitted this application. After I find out why they declined
me at First United, I’ll need to apply somewhere else. But
that takes time, and we’re running out of time. There are
bills that are already overdue and more coming in May. We
need to do something.
I can only think of one option—my savings, the money I’ve
been keeping to start up when I move. Heaviness fills my
stomach, along with a healthy dose of guilt. I’ve been
holding that back, thinking of it as our last resort. I guess
we’ve reached that level of desperation.
One guy asks me to spot him, and I’m dragged away. My
head continues to spin, but I still haven’t thought of
anything else to help the gym by the time Jake arrives.  
I only have one class on Wednesdays, at ten o’clock, but I
should have skipped it. Between my exhaustion and the
loan’s decline, I don’t pay any attention. On my drive back
to the gym, I make a call to the loan officer. He doesn’t pick
up, so I leave a voicemail. 
Thank God I’ll get to see Penny soon. She said she would
be in right after her eleven o’clock class. Holding on to that
gives me something to look forward to on this shitty day.
The last thing I need when I get to the gym is to find
Teddy Little lifting weights in the back. 
 Everything I’ve been holding all morning explodes in my
chest, producing fiery anger. I drop my bag next to the front
counter and stalk toward him. Vaguely, I register Jake
following me. 
I stop in front of Teddy, where he sits at the bench press
station. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
He stands, squaring off with me. “Using my trial
membership, Parker.”
“You aren’t welcome.” My hands fist at my sides, and Jake
snags my sleeve.
“Rich issued the membership,” he whispers to me. “Last
week. He’s been coming all weekend.”
“Has Penny seen him?” I ask without breaking eye contact
with Teddy.
“I’m not here for her.” He crosses his arms over his chest
and tilts his chin up, an arrogant smirk on his face. “My
father said you wanted a loan, so I said I’d come check the
place out.” He casts a glance around the gym, at the
equipment and mats. “I told him it’s exactly the sort of
place lowlife pieces of trash like you would hang out in.”
The pieces fall together. “Your father works for First
United.”
“My father is First United.” His smile is hard.
It’s strikingly clear that nothing will save my business loan
application now. Teddy’s involved—it’s over. But what’s
more disturbing is how far he is going in his search for…
what is this? Revenge, maybe? Is he hurting Penny through
me? I don’t know, but it’s some messed up, narcissistic,
stalker-level bullshit.
She’s going to be here in an hour, though. Less, probably. I
want him gone by then.
“Get out,” I hiss at him.
He steps forward, his nose inches from mine. “Who’s
going to make me?”
I can see exactly what he wants. He’s practically begging
for a fight. But that’s not how I work. “Either you can leave,
or I can call the cops. It’s up to you. “
What happens next probably only takes moments, but
feels like it’s in slow motion.
Teddy places his palms on my chest and shoves me twice.
He says something, but I only catch snippets of it, disjointed
words. I make out “big man,” and he uses the word “trash”
again. That must be a favorite. But when he lifts his elbow,
as if to strike high, I shut him down.
Stepping into him, I stomp hard on his foot, crushing the
stability in his arch. He stumbles. I grab his arm—the one he
tried to hit me with—and shove into him. He’s a tall man,
larger than a lot of guys I’ve grappled with, and he has at
least fifty pounds on me. He doesn’t go down and uses the
ground to push off, coming at me with a right hook.
I catch his arm and twist. I can feel his elbow dislocate,
and he crumbles to the ground, screaming and cradling his
arm. Stepping away from him, I catch my breath. That’s
when I see Penny to the side, her mouth covered.
 Moving toward her, my hand out to her, I explain.
“Penny…”
But her eyes are wide, and she shakes her head, stepping
back. I freeze. I’ve never seen that look on her face before.
It’s fear.
Something ugly and sick fills my stomach. Is she afraid of
me?
Beside me, Teddy’s on his feet, cursing. “You don’t know
what you’ve fucking done, Parker.” He holds his arm close to
his body. “You’ll regret this.”
I shrug at him, my eyes on Penny. I might regret it, but not
for the reasons he thinks.
He grabs his backpack, wincing as he slings it on his
shoulder, and leaves, muttering about how sorry I’m going
to be. I can only stare at Penny.
She breaks the eye contact to watch Teddy leave. That’s
when I realize that everyone else is staring at me, too. The
weight of their eyes added to Penny’s reaction is too much
for me right now. I inhale a shaky breath and leave them
there, heading toward the office. 
“Griff,” Jake calls after me. “Where are you going?”
“To check the cameras.” We have security, and I hope it
caught the entire episode on tape. Because I’m afraid this
isn’t the last we’ll hear from Teddy.

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 Penny

AFTER TEDDY STORMS OUT of the gym and Griff heads for
the office, the rest of us stand around and stare at each
other. Jake seems to figure out that’s not good for business,
because he says, “Nothing else to see, guys. We’ll take care
of that.”
The place abruptly bursts into whispered conversation. It’s
almost lunchtime, and there are many people around—
people who just saw my boyfriend kick my ex-boyfriend’s
ass.
I meet Jake’s gaze. He gives a slight head nod and glances
toward the office before heading back to the counter.
Inhaling, I pick my way through the gym equipment to the
office. Griff didn’t close the door, so I go in and pull it shut
behind me. He sits at the desk, staring at the screen with a
scowl on his face.
“What just happened?” He doesn’t glance up, so I join him
behind the desk, leaning against it. “Griff?” He looks up at
me, and his expression is closed off. “What’s going on?”
He leans back in the padded desk chair and exhales. His
breath comes out shakier than normal. “I just dislocated
that piece of shit’s arm, Red. That’s what happened.”
Studying him, I can’t get a read on how he’s feeling. “I
saw that.”
“I know. I scared you.” Something that looks like pain
flashes in his eyes, and he glances back at the screen.
“I’m not scared of you, you idiot. I’m scared for you.”
Placing my hands on the desk, I lean toward him. “Teddy
can cause a lot of trouble for you.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t have to be here. This has
nothing to do with you.”
That pisses me off. “What has nothing to do with me?
Teddy?”
He glares at me. “This is my problem. You should probably
go.”
I open my arms, outraged. “You want me to leave? After
that?” He closes his eyes, but there’s no way I’m letting him
out of this conversation. “Teddy wouldn’t have been here if
it hadn’t been for me. I don’t care what he said. He’s here
because I’m here. This is my fault.”
“So, you knew he was coming here?” His eyebrows lower.
“I’ve been working here all weekend.” I open my arm,
motioning to the gym. “Of course. I was going to tell you
that Rich gave him a trial when you got back, but I’ve been
sick.”
 “Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?” 
I shrug. Now, I wish I had. But it’s too late for that. “I
didn’t want you to worry about it. You were at playoffs. You
had other things on your mind. And I honestly don’t care
what Teddy does anymore, as long as he leaves me alone.”
“The gym is my responsibility.” He stands up and paces
away from the computer, putting some distance between
us. “What happens here is my business.”
“You don’t have to do everything on your own, though,” I
fire back. “And it would have upset you. I had it covered. If
he wanted to get a rise out of me, I left him disappointed.” A
flare of victory washes over me. It’s the truth. Mostly,
Teddy’s presence only annoyed me. I’m not afraid of him
anymore, not like I’d been. I’ve come a long way.
“He isn’t here to get a rise out of you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I applied for a business loan.” He opens his arms wide.
“For the gym. For my family. Through First United. Didn’t you
hear him?”
“Oh, no…” I heard Teddy talking about a loan, but I didn’t
understand. Now, I can see where this is going. “Teddy’s
father is the chairperson of First United.”
“Apparently.”
“What happened?”
“I got word this morning that they declined us. I’ve been
thinking about it all fucking day.” He paces now. “It’s the
only chance we have to keep the place afloat. We didn’t
know that the place was in debt until my father’s stroke.
When we took over, I found out that he applied for a
mortgage to keep the place going for a while longer… until I
could get through school and until Jake could find a new gig.
I don’t know when he planned to tell us any of this.”
I stare at him. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah. Instead of that, though, I thought we could expand.
Buy the place that’s for sale next door. I have all these
plans.” He’s on a roll, rambling now. He motions to me.
“Kickboxing classes, self-defense. You gave me the idea to
do that. But we could start youth classes, too. Inclusive
classes for people with physical limitations.”
“That sounds amazing.” Griff’s ability to see the bigger
picture has always impressed me. Like the chaperon service
on campus. He sees opportunities. Not only to make money,
but to do good. It’s one thing I love the most about him.
“Except now I’m back at ground zero with it again.” He
slams his palm on the desk. “Not only that, but I have no
money to pay the bills that are overdue and the ones
coming up.” He tilts his head. “But that’s not true, either.
Because I do have some money… all the money I’ve been
saving to move out of Chesterboro, which seems more and
more unlikely every day.”
“There has to be another solution.”
“Not all of us have thousands of dollars just lying around,
Penny,” he says. I jerk, as if the bitterness in his tone is a
physical blow. “Shit, that’s not what I meant…”
 I wave him off. “Yes, it is.”
“It’s just… I don’t have any other options. Not where this
is concerned.” He sits down hard. “Now fucking Teddy Little
is going to need medical attention because he tried to hit
me in my own gym, and I don’t know what that means for
us.” I don’t know if he realizes he took ownership of the
gym.
“That’s not a problem you would have if not for me being
here.” He didn’t say the words, but I could hear them in my
head, as if he had said them.
“No.” He shakes his head, his brow wrinkled. “That’s not
true”
“But it is.” I step back. “I know you. When you applied for
the loan, it was perfect. You would have done all your
research. The only reason you got declined is because Teddy
got involved.”
He runs his hands over his hair, his bright blue eyes
troubled. “We don’t know that.”
“You didn’t tell me any of this stuff. I had no idea that the
gym was in trouble. I wouldn’t probably know now if all this
hadn’t happened. The same as you didn’t tell me about
Emma being sick.”
He pats his chest. “They’re my problems, not yours. You
don’t have problems like these, Red. And we were just
getting together, keeping things light between us.”
“Is that what we’ve been doing?” I bite back at him, my
voice raised. I’m raw, broken inside. “Did you decide that on
your own? Because you should have told me before I fell in
love with you.” He straightens, his mouth open. I’m on a roll,
though, so hurt and angry I can hardly breathe around it.
“I’ve opened up to you. I’ve told you I care about you. When
I said I want to help, I mean it. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have
offered so many times. But you have said nothing about any
of this to me.” I step backward, away from him. “You’ve
always been clear about how things were and about how
you felt. Nothing serious. Keep it professional. I guess I was
the one who mixed things up.”
“Penny…” He reaches for me. “That’s not…”
A knock at the door interrupts whatever he’s about to say.
Jake’s standing on the other side, his mouth grim. I open it,
and he rubs his forehead, obviously upset. “Sorry to
interrupt this… conversation, guys, but we have visitors.”
He motions to the front where two police officers are
waiting.
“Fuck,” Griff says under his breath. “Teddy.”
“Yeah. They’d like to ask you some questions,” Jake says.
“At the police station.”

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 Griff

I DON’T GET BACK to the apartment until dinner time. The

only one home is Declan, and he’s in the kitchen, fixing a
sandwich.
“You missed practice.” Declan doesn’t look up from his
culinary masterpiece. “And I hear you got into a fight.” 
“Word travels fast.” I can’t even work up the energy to be
irritated with him right now. “How did you find out?”
Declan spreads mustard on a slice of bread. “Coach called
me.” He glances up, his eyebrows raised. “Must have been a
good one. There’s an inquiry with the school disciplinary
board already.”
I shake my head. Fucking Teddy… “It wasn’t, really. If I’d
known it would cause me this much grief, I would’ve made it
better.” I let my bag fall to the ground with a thud. “No one
deserves a beating more than Teddy Little. I should have
gotten my money’s worth out of it.”
 Declan puts his hands on the counter, leaning on it as he
pierces me with an astute stare. “What the hell happened?
Start at the beginning.”
It’s like a pin popping a balloon. Months of pent-up anxiety
and worry spill out as I tell him everything. I tell him about
my father, the stroke. All the details about my family’s gym
and our financial problems tumble out. I even talk about
Emma and her health problems, how I had to pick up extra
hours in the lead up to playoffs, how worried I am for her.
How tired I am.
Then I’m talking about Penny and how important she’s
come to be and how uncertain my future is. I talk about her
admission to Temple and how she stepped up to help me.
That leads directly to Teddy, his appearance at the gym and
my declined business loan application.
Declan listens with no comment until I run out of words.
Then he shakes his head and says, “Jesus, what a mess.”
That about covers it. “Yeah.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you say something?” He glares at
me. “All that is going on in the background, and you’ve said
nothing to any of us.”
Is he actually nagging me right now? I scowl back at him.
“I was handling it.”
He drops his hands to his waist. “The way you handled
Teddy Little?” I have no defense to that, so I only glare at
him. He shakes his head, and now he doesn’t look as angry.
He almost looks… hurt. “We would’ve helped.”
 “I didn’t want your help. I hate feeling like I’m everybody’s
walking, talking charity case.” 
“You aren’t a charity case, you asshole. You’re our friend,
and friends help each other. Hell, we’re more than friends—
we’re teammates. If it affects you, it affects us.” His eyes
narrow. “Did you at least tell Penny about all this?” He must
see the answer on my face because he shakes his head.
“You really are a first-class moron.”
I throw up my hands. “I told you. was handling it.”
“Doing a great job, Parker.” Again, I have no defense, so I
give him the finger this time. He points at me. “You know
what I think? I think you’re scared.”
That makes me pause. “What? You’re joking.” I’m the
closest thing to an enforcer our team has. I’m not afraid of
anything.
He comes around the island to stand in front of me. “You
never back down from a fight, sure. But you’re closed off
from all of us, even the girl that you’re probably in love with.
You don’t care if you get beat up, yet you’re hiding from
everyone. There’s more than one way to be afraid.” He rolls
his eyes at me, then runs a hand over his face. I can see the
wheels turning in his head. “Let me talk to coach. We can
see if there’s anything we can do about this. I need you on
my line next weekend, Parker. The team needs you. So,
you’re going to fucking let us help you.”
He gives me a pissed off smirk, not at all like a guy who
wants to help me. Then he pulls his phone out of his pocket.
Leaving me to stare after him in shock, he heads towards
his room.
In the empty kitchen, I stare out the window over the sink.
It faces the building next door, so there’s not much to look
at. I don’t need anything to watch, though, because my
brain is buzzing.
It feels like I’ve been trying to hold myself together my
entire life. As the middle son in a house of men, I played
diplomat constantly. There had to be at least one steady
hand. Somewhere along the line, I believed I had to do
everything by myself. In my mind, if I didn’t manage things,
they’d fall apart. My father, my brothers… they can be
hotheads. I needed to be cool. 
But have I gotten so used to being the one in charge, the
one in control, that I’ve cut everyone else off?
In the beginning, I might have been able to give myself a
pass. I didn’t want to tell the guys what I was going through.
Who wants to spill all their business to their college friends?
We’re supposed to be having fun. Then things spiraled on
me. I kept thinking I could hold everything together. That I
didn’t need any help.
But I did—I do. Hell, as I explained everything to Declan, it
sounds like a shitshow. If he had been the one telling me all
that, I would have offered to step in. More, I would have
already been thinking of ways to help where I could. Why do
I have such a hard time accepting help when I enjoy helping
others so much?
 And Penny… I close my eyes, rubbing my jaw. I should
have told her what was going on, how I felt about her. All of
it. Because I didn’t, everything I was afraid would happen,
happened anyway. 
I lost her. 
She told me she loved me, and I said nothing. I haven’t
gotten the nerve to answer her texts, and I know that’s
cowardly stuff. But what can I say now? I love you, too? After
everything that just happened? I’ve known for a while how I
feel about her, but I said nothing when I should have.
Because Declan’s right—I’m terrified. I’m afraid she would
see my mess and run. There are days even I think it would
be easier to walk away from all of it. But I could never do
that to my family. 
Most of all, I’ve been worrying she’ll finally figure out what
I’ve been afraid of for months—that I’m not good enough for
her. She’s smart, funny, headed to law school. Though
things with Teddy might have set her back, she’s always
been a force of nature and she’s stronger than ever. She’s
got everything going for her. Growing up, she was out of my
league. It’s scared the shit out of me to think that she’ll
decide that’s still true.
I pick up my phone and read through her texts. It’s a lot of
worry, wondering how I’m doing and if there’s anything she
can do to help. My fingers poise over the electronic
keyboard. Finally, I type out. I’m okay. Home. Just a lot on
my mind. Talk tomorrow.
 I hit send. I watch as the message turns to ‘read’ and the
typing dots appear. They disappear and reappear a handful
of times, but eventually they go away entirely.
My stomach sick, I head into my room and fall on my bed,
more tired than I’ve been in years. I’m asleep in minutes.

OceanofPDF.com
 Penny

I SEARCH OUT MY father on Wednesday night.

I don’t know what’s going on with Griff. Since he agreed to
go to the police station, I haven’t heard from him. All my
texts have gone unanswered. I’m not even surprised.
Keeping important details to himself is Griff’s MO.
How did everything go so wrong in only a few hours? I
skipped my eleven o’clock class so I could see him sooner.
It’s been a week, but it felt like a lifetime. Now, I wonder if I
would have heard about the fight at all if I hadn’t walked in
on it. I don’t know how to prove to him he can open up to
me. I’m afraid of is that nothing is going to do that.
It’s after seven, but my father is still at the office, so I stop
there. As always, when I open the door, he looks startled.
My father gets so engrossed in his work that he doesn’t
always notice his surroundings. “Oh. Hey, baby girl. I wasn’t
expecting you.”
 “I texted you. When you didn’t respond, I called mom, and
she told me where you are.” I smile as he lifts his cell phone
from the desk next to him and appears surprised to find
messages there. Shaking my head, I round the desk and kiss
him on the forehead. “Phones work better if you look at
them every once in a while.”
He tosses his iPhone on top of a pile of papers on his desk
and shrugs. “Too distracting. People find me if they need
me.”
“You’re probably right. Look at me, after all.” I hold my
arms open. “I’m here, and I definitely need you.”
He’s immediately concerned. “What? Is this about the
hearing tomorrow?” He shuffles papers on his desk, his brow
furrowed. “I have it all set up. There’s nothing to worry
about. You will not need to say a word. I already gave
Jonathan a heads-up too, so nothing should come as a
surprise. We’ll have this over and done with. There will be as
little drama as possible.” There is a glint in his eye, and I
recognize it. My father likes to win, and he has a strong
sense of justice. Here, it’s probably worse because I’m his
daughter, and he’s protective. Affection sweeps through me.
My mother can be cold and shut off, but my father is a
teddy bear. Well, a teddy bear inside a legal shark, I guess.
“I don’t think things are going to be that simple, Dad.” I
sink into the seat across from him.
“What’s going on?” 
 “Teddy just picked a fight with my new boyfriend.” I pause
and squeeze my hands together in my lap. “Griffin Parker.”
It only takes a split second for my father to place the
name. “Parker? Like the Parkers that own the gym
downtown?”
“Yes. I’ve been seeing him this semester.” I lift my brow
that him. “Is that a problem?”
My dad chuckles. “Not for me. For your mom, though…
That might be a different story.”
I sigh. “I don’t understand her problem with the Parkers.”
Again, my father shrugs. “Between you and me? I think
she had a thing for Spider Parker in high school.” I gasp out
a laugh. “Then again… Your mother has many fine qualities,
but she can be a little snotty. So that could be it, too.” He
gives me a wink.
“Dad!”
“I love her, and she loves us fiercely.” He shakes his head.
“But it’s true.”
“You’re too much.” I laugh. 
“Don’t you tell her I said that, though. I enjoy my marital
harmony.” I pretend like I’m zippering my lips closed, and he
nods. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on with Griffin
Parker?”
I start at the beginning, with asking Griff to help me learn
self-defense. That appears to be news to him. My mom
didn’t tell him about it. She wouldn’t have thought it was
important information. I recount Teddy approaching me at
school, then at the gym. I end with today’s information
about First United declining the Parkers’ loan and the fight.
By the time I finish, my father’s features have stormed over.
He taps on the keyboard of the computer without a word.
After long moments of no comment, I finally ask, “What’s
going on?” 
He glances at me like he forgot I was there. Then he sits
back in his seat and temples his fingers. “I have information,
and I think that it’s time that we use it.”
“What are you talking about?”
His expression becomes apologetic. “Before I start, I want
to tell you I didn’t keep this from you to hurt you. It’s your
information, and if you don’t want to pursue the path I’m
about to lie out, that’s fine.”
“Dad.” I stop him. “What’s going on?”
“First, I have your records from the hospital. They give a
very clear description of what happened to you that night,
the sort of bodily harm you suffered. But that’s not the part
that is going to be really valuable. While you were still
recovering, you know I sat down with Jonathan and Teddy
Little. I explained we could press charges.” He appears
sheepish. “I might have let on you were seriously
considering it.”
“I wasn’t then.”
“I know, but I wasn’t really acting as your lawyer that
night. I was your father. And that asshole deserved to
squirm.” The rage on my dad’s face surprises me.
 “You and Jonathan are friends.”
He snorts. “The hell we are. Not after that. Barely before
that. We’re business acquaintances. That’s different from a
person I’d trust or rely on.”
I find nothing wrong with that sentiment, so I only nod. He
continues. “Teddy was contrite. He kept going on about
what happened, what he did. I might have… well, recorded
it.”
“Without him knowing about it?”
“Not exactly. My secretary was in the room. She took
notes the entire time. But I wasn’t sure that would be
enough.” He glanced at the computer. “You only wanted it
to go away. So, I told them that if he left you alone from
then on and agreed to rehab, we wouldn’t pursue it… if he
wrote you an apology. He agreed.” He opens a drawer and
pulls out a file, handing it across the desk to me. “In his own
words.”
Part of me, doesn’t want to read this, but I’m through
avoiding unpleasantness. I open the folder and read
through. I only get halfway before I pause. “Dad, this reads
like a confession.”
“I told him to tell you everything he was ashamed of. To
be explicit.” He lifts his hands. “I was very clear that I wasn’t
your attorney that night, and I wasn’t giving him legal
advice. My secretary got it all.” 
“Daddy… this is…”
“Not legally admissible in court.”
 “No. Not at all.”
“He doesn’t want to go to court any more than you do. But
he didn’t hold up his side of the bargain. Teddy went to
rehab, but he hasn’t gone away. It’s time that we make
him.” There’s light in his eyes, like he can’t think of anything
that would make him happier.
My phone buzzes with a text from Griff. It’s a non-text,
really—no actual information. I consider responding, but I
don’t know what to say to him, so I say nothing. It pisses me
off, though, to feel unable to help him.
“What about Griff? I hate what Teddy has done to Griff’s
family. All I want is my restraining order, but Griff, his father
and brothers… they don’t deserve this.” Griff might not like
it, but he needs help—my help, my father’s help. “Teddy had
the police take him into the station, even though he was the
one who shoved Griff first. I know Teddy… he won’t let this
go until he’s made Griff’s life miserable.”
“Well… Let’s show him how bad of a plan that would be
for him.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Griff

THANKS TO THE DISCIPLINARY action Teddy filed against me

at school, I’m suspended from practicing with the team. On
Thursday, I go to class, then head to the gym. At the gym, I
forward the video surveillance from yesterday’s skirmish to
the disciplinary committee. It’s grainy, but it shows Teddy
shove me before I take him down. It isn’t as clear he tried to
throw a punch, though. That would have been helpful to
have caught on tape. Still, it’s the best I have. I write a
message to accompany the video, detailing my side of the
story as clearly as I can.
It feels good to defend myself. It might not be enough to
lift the disciplinary action, but I can hope.
That afternoon, I get papers regarding Teddy’s intention to
sue the gym. Whoever his attorney is, they work fast. Any
uplifting feelings I might have had about the disciplinary
committee fade.
 I debate downloading some business loan applications
from other banks, but decide against it. If we’re going to be
sued, no bank is going to want to lend us money. Offhand, I
wonder if our insurance company will need to get involved
in this. I don’t understand all the ways this could go bad,
and my head throbs considering it.
Today was Penny’s restraining order hearing, so I call her.
It was probably a hard day. She told me earlier in the week
that she needed to face Teddy on her own, but I’m
desperate to find out how she’s doing and how it went. But
she doesn’t answer. After the way we left things yesterday
and my lame text, I’m not surprised. I’m not sure that I
would answer my call either. Isn’t that what she said
yesterday—that she hates being the only one to share her
hard things? I don’t know what to say on a voicemail, so I
don’t leave one.
By the evening, I’m in a dark mood, so I retreat to the
office to spare everyone from having to deal with me. I don’t
know what to do with myself, so I try to study. A knock at
the office door saves me.
A man in a suit stands in the doorway carrying a
briefcase. “Griff Parker?”
I take him in, from his expensive hair cut to the toes of his
high-end shoes. “Are you planning to serve me papers?
Arrest me?” Not sure I can handle anymore today.
His eyes widen. “No.”
“Okay, good. Then you can come in.”
 He chuckles. “Sounds like you’ve had a day. Mind if I close
this?”
“By all means.” I motion to the door. “No one wants to talk
to me, anyway.”
The door clicks shut, and he steps in. “I’m Penny’s dad.
Marcus Hampshire.”
Oh, shit… I shuffle to my feet, offering him my hand. “Sir,
I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize…”
“I don’t have red hair?” He lifts his eyebrows as he shakes
my hand.
“You don’t, sir.”
“Please, call me Marc.” He motions to the folding chair in
front of my desk. “May I?”
“Uh, sure.” As he settles in the seat in front of me, I see
the place like he must. The worn desk, the desk chair with
the torn seat. The painted concrete floor and the metal
folding chair. At least the place is neater than my father
kept things in here. 
“You’ve had a rough couple of days.”
“I’ve had better.” I doubt I’ve ever used that much
understatement, though. “How’s Penny?”
He lifts his eyebrows. “Why haven’t you asked her
yourself?”
I wince. Touché. “I called…” I stop. I could have texted,
stopped to see her, been more persistent.
“You probably don’t have a good reason. Stop being an
ass to my daughter.” He waves that off. “She can decide
how to handle that part, though. I’m here for something
else.”
“Sir?”
“Marc,” he says. “Do you have an attorney, Griff?”
“No.” I can’t afford an attorney. We’re barely staying afloat
as it is.
“I offer myself as your attorney, pro bono. Do you agree?”
“Um…” No one else is stepping up to represent us for free.
“Yes?”
“Wonderful.” He smiles. “Then I would like to inform you
that Teddy Little has dropped all charges against you.”
I sit up straight. “What?”
“Let’s just say he reconsidered today.” Mr. Hampshire
shrugs. “He also won’t be pursuing any legal cases against
your family’s business. He agrees he carries some blame in
the injuries he received here and will cover the cost of his
own medical care. You should get paperwork to that effect
within the next day or so.”
I shake my head. “What’s going on?”
“My daughter is extremely brave. Teddy wants to play
professional football. She reminded him today that he
doesn’t want the exposure that might come out if he
pursues you legally.”
That’s still vague, but I doubt I’m getting any more
information. I sit back heavily in my seat, taking all this in.
“If he drops charges, then the disciplinary action at
school…”
 “Will go away as well.” Mr. Hampshire nods. “You should
be back with your team by the weekend.”
“Holy shit.” I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I had been
holding. It must have been physically weighing me down,
because I feel lighter than I’ve felt in a long time.
“Indeed, Mr. Parker. Now.” He reaches into his bag. “To
what I think is the most important part of my visit.” Sliding a
stack of paperwork across the desk, he smiles. “I’d like to
make you a business proposal.”
I can only blink at him, struggling to keep up. “A business
proposal.”
He nods. “My law partner and I started a venture capital
group a few years ago. We’ve taken on a few other investors
since then. But we try to find businesses with the potential
to invest in. We believe that Parker’s Gym is that kind of
business.”
“You want to invest in the gym?” I keep repeating what he
says, but I feel the need to make sure I’m getting the details
correct. It’s too good to be true. 
“Yes.” He points to the paperwork. “You should read this
over carefully and talk with your family, but you’ll find that it
is a reasonable offer. There will be a business loan with a
competitive rate of repayment. The rest is a straight capital
investment for a share of the profits.”
I narrow my eyes. “You would like part ownership in the
business?”
 “Silent partnership. Nothing that would interfere. But
Penny explained your plans for the place. I suspect that our
investment will pay off quickly.” His expression softens when
he talks about his daughter. “She’s very proud of you.”
My head spins with a million questions but none as
pressing as, “Why?”
Across from me, Mr. Hampshire leans back in the metal
folding chair. He appears to weigh what he says next. “I
could just tell you I heard about a business opportunity that
sounded lucrative and jumped on it. That’s true. I wouldn’t
be considering investing this much money if it wasn’t, and I
certainly wouldn’t have approached my partners. But that’s
only part of it.” Something like sadness clouds his features.
“When Teddy hurt Penny, my family dealt with it differently.
My wife wanted to pretend it didn’t happen. She wanted—
still wants—everything to go back to normal. I did what I’ve
always done—drowned myself in work.” He closes his eyes,
shaking his head. “I’m not proud of that. I could see that my
daughter needed something, but I couldn’t figure out how to
help her. Couldn’t even identify what would help her. But
you did. Whatever self-defense you taught her brought back
the confident young woman I know. She’s different, happier,
and I think it’s because of you, of what you taught her. If
you can do that for her, then maybe there are other girls
like her, girls who need a place like this.”
“You’ve got it wrong, sir. I didn’t do that. She did it herself.
I’ve seen no one train as hard as she did. She’s extremely
talented. And smart,” I add. “She picks up everything
quickly, and she’s so stubborn that she refuses to quit until
she gets it right.”
“I see.” He studies me. “So, you’re in love with her as
well.”
That takes me by surprise, but I nod. “I am, sir.”
“Well, then I’ll give you some fatherly advice.” He glares
at me. “Stop fucking around. I’m not sure what hang ups
you have, but you’re the only one holding you back. You
hurt her. Make it right.” Standing, he motions to the
paperwork. “Read that over, talk to your family. I’ll check in
with you on Monday.”
I get to my feet and reach my hand across the desk to
him. “Mr. Hampshire?”
“Marc.”
“Sir.” I don’t think I can call him Marc. “Thank you. For
everything. And I’ll get right on that.”
“The paperwork?”
“No,” I say. “The fucking around and making it right part.”
He offers me an approving grin. “Glad to hear it.”
I walk him out and promise to read through the papers he
left me. At the front desk, Jake looks concerned, but I shake
my head. I’m still processing everything Mr. Hampshire said,
and I don’t know if I can explain it right now.
Returning to the office, I stare at the paperwork, but the
only thing on my mind is Penny. I should have confided in
her, should have trusted her. I was scared, like Declan said.
Her father is right—she’s the brave one. She hasn’t once
shied away from anything, not in our training and not with
her feelings. But I have. I didn’t put myself out there,
because I was too busy protecting myself.
My whole life, I’ve been desperate to prove I’m not just
some white trash kid from the wrong side of Chesterboro.
But Penny never thought that—I did. That’s not her
baggage, it’s mine.
I grab my keys and head for the front. “I’ve got to go,” I
tell Jake.
It’s clear he’s about sick of me. He throws up his hands.
“Where are you going now?”
“I need to fix things with Penny.”
“Oh. Well, then.” His face breaks into a grin. “Did you hear
that, guys?” Jake cups his hands around his mouth, calling
out over the music. “He’s done being an asshole. He’s going
to fix things with Penny.”
The place explodes into catcalls and applause. Some of
them offer good luck. Smiling, I wave them off. “Dicks,” I
mutter under my breath as I hustle out the door.  

OceanofPDF.com
 Penny

THANKS TO THE DISCIPLINARY action Teddy filed against me

at school, I’m suspended from practicing with the team. On
Thursday, I go to class, then head to the gym. At the gym, I
forward the video surveillance from yesterday’s skirmish to
the disciplinary committee. It’s grainy, but it shows Teddy
shove me before I take him down. It isn’t as clear he tried to
throw a punch, though. That would have been helpful to
have caught on tape. Still, it’s the best I have. I write a
message to accompany the video, detailing my side of the
story as clearly as I can.
It feels good to defend myself. It might not be enough to
lift the disciplinary action, but I can hope.
That afternoon, I get papers regarding Teddy’s intention to
sue the gym. Whoever his attorney is, they work fast. Any
uplifting feelings I might have had about the disciplinary
committee fade.
 I debate downloading some business loan applications
from other banks, but decide against it. If we’re going to be
sued, no bank is going to want to lend us money. Offhand, I
wonder if our insurance company will need to get involved
in this. I don’t understand all the ways this could go bad,
and my head throbs considering it.
Today was Penny’s restraining order hearing, so I call her.
It was probably a hard day. She told me earlier in the week
that she needed to face Teddy on her own, but I’m
desperate to find out how she’s doing and how it went. But
she doesn’t answer. After the way we left things yesterday
and my lame text, I’m not surprised. I’m not sure that I
would answer my call either. Isn’t that what she said
yesterday—that she hates being the only one to share her
hard things? I don’t know what to say on a voicemail, so I
don’t leave one.
By the evening, I’m in a dark mood, so I retreat to the
office to spare everyone from having to deal with me. I don’t
know what to do with myself, so I try to study. A knock at
the office door saves me.
A man in a suit stands in the doorway carrying a
briefcase. “Griff Parker?”
I take him in, from his expensive hair cut to the toes of his
high-end shoes. “Are you planning to serve me papers?
Arrest me?” Not sure I can handle anymore today.
His eyes widen. “No.”
“Okay, good. Then you can come in.”
 He chuckles. “Sounds like you’ve had a day. Mind if I close
this?”
“By all means.” I motion to the door. “No one wants to talk
to me, anyway.”
The door clicks shut, and he steps in. “I’m Penny’s dad.
Marcus Hampshire.”
Oh, shit… I shuffle to my feet, offering him my hand. “Sir,
I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize…”
“I don’t have red hair?” He lifts his eyebrows as he shakes
my hand.
“You don’t, sir.”
“Please, call me Marc.” He motions to the folding chair in
front of my desk. “May I?”
“Uh, sure.” As he settles in the seat in front of me, I see
the place like he must. The worn desk, the desk chair with
the torn seat. The painted concrete floor and the metal
folding chair. At least the place is neater than my father
kept things in here. 
“You’ve had a rough couple of days.”
“I’ve had better.” I doubt I’ve ever used that much
understatement, though. “How’s Penny?”
He lifts his eyebrows. “Why haven’t you asked her
yourself?”
I wince. Touché. “I called…” I stop. I could have texted,
stopped to see her, been more persistent.
“You probably don’t have a good reason. Stop being an
ass to my daughter.” He waves that off. “She can decide
how to handle that part, though. I’m here for something
else.”
“Sir?”
“Marc,” he says. “Do you have an attorney, Griff?”
“No.” I can’t afford an attorney. We’re barely staying afloat
as it is.
“I offer myself as your attorney, pro bono. Do you agree?”
“Um…” No one else is stepping up to represent us for free.
“Yes?”
“Wonderful.” He smiles. “Then I would like to inform you
that Teddy Little has dropped all charges against you.”
I sit up straight. “What?”
“Let’s just say he reconsidered today.” Mr. Hampshire
shrugs. “He also won’t be pursuing any legal cases against
your family’s business. He agrees he carries some blame in
the injuries he received here and will cover the cost of his
own medical care. You should get paperwork to that effect
within the next day or so.”
I shake my head. “What’s going on?”
“My daughter is extremely brave. Teddy wants to play
professional football. She reminded him today that he
doesn’t want the exposure that might come out if he
pursues you legally.”
That’s still vague, but I doubt I’m getting any more
information. I sit back heavily in my seat, taking all this in.
“If he drops charges, then the disciplinary action at
school…”
 “Will go away as well.” Mr. Hampshire nods. “You should
be back with your team by the weekend.”
“Holy shit.” I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I had been
holding. It must have been physically weighing me down,
because I feel lighter than I’ve felt in a long time.
“Indeed, Mr. Parker. Now.” He reaches into his bag. “To
what I think is the most important part of my visit.” Sliding a
stack of paperwork across the desk, he smiles. “I’d like to
make you a business proposal.”
I can only blink at him, struggling to keep up. “A business
proposal.”
He nods. “My law partner and I started a venture capital
group a few years ago. We’ve taken on a few other investors
since then. But we try to find businesses with the potential
to invest in. We believe that Parker’s Gym is that kind of
business.”
“You want to invest in the gym?” I keep repeating what he
says, but I feel the need to make sure I’m getting the details
correct. It’s too good to be true. 
“Yes.” He points to the paperwork. “You should read this
over carefully and talk with your family, but you’ll find that it
is a reasonable offer. There will be a business loan with a
competitive rate of repayment. The rest is a straight capital
investment for a share of the profits.”
I narrow my eyes. “You would like part ownership in the
business?”
 “Silent partnership. Nothing that would interfere. But
Penny explained your plans for the place. I suspect that our
investment will pay off quickly.” His expression softens when
he talks about his daughter. “She’s very proud of you.”
My head spins with a million questions but none as
pressing as, “Why?”
Across from me, Mr. Hampshire leans back in the metal
folding chair. He appears to weigh what he says next. “I
could just tell you I heard about a business opportunity that
sounded lucrative and jumped on it. That’s true. I wouldn’t
be considering investing this much money if it wasn’t, and I
certainly wouldn’t have approached my partners. But that’s
only part of it.” Something like sadness clouds his features.
“When Teddy hurt Penny, my family dealt with it differently.
My wife wanted to pretend it didn’t happen. She wanted—
still wants—everything to go back to normal. I did what I’ve
always done—drowned myself in work.” He closes his eyes,
shaking his head. “I’m not proud of that. I could see that my
daughter needed something, but I couldn’t figure out how to
help her. Couldn’t even identify what would help her. But
you did. Whatever self-defense you taught her brought back
the confident young woman I know. She’s different, happier,
and I think it’s because of you, of what you taught her. If
you can do that for her, then maybe there are other girls
like her, girls who need a place like this.”
“You’ve got it wrong, sir. I didn’t do that. She did it herself.
I’ve seen no one train as hard as she did. She’s extremely
talented. And smart,” I add. “She picks up everything
quickly, and she’s so stubborn that she refuses to quit until
she gets it right.”
“I see.” He studies me. “So, you’re in love with her as
well.”
That takes me by surprise, but I nod. “I am, sir.”
“Well, then I’ll give you some fatherly advice.” He glares
at me. “Stop fucking around. I’m not sure what hang ups
you have, but you’re the only one holding you back. You
hurt her. Make it right.” Standing, he motions to the
paperwork. “Read that over, talk to your family. I’ll check in
with you on Monday.”
I get to my feet and reach my hand across the desk to
him. “Mr. Hampshire?”
“Marc.”
“Sir.” I don’t think I can call him Marc. “Thank you. For
everything. And I’ll get right on that.”
“The paperwork?”
“No,” I say. “The fucking around and making it right part.”
He offers me an approving grin. “Glad to hear it.”
I walk him out and promise to read through the papers he
left me. At the front desk, Jake looks concerned, but I shake
my head. I’m still processing everything Mr. Hampshire said,
and I don’t know if I can explain it right now.
Returning to the office, I stare at the paperwork, but the
only thing on my mind is Penny. I should have confided in
her, should have trusted her. I was scared, like Declan said.
Her father is right—she’s the brave one. She hasn’t once
shied away from anything, not in our training and not with
her feelings. But I have. I didn’t put myself out there,
because I was too busy protecting myself.
My whole life, I’ve been desperate to prove I’m not just
some white trash kid from the wrong side of Chesterboro.
But Penny never thought that—I did. That’s not her
baggage, it’s mine.
I grab my keys and head for the front. “I’ve got to go,” I
tell Jake.
It’s clear he’s about sick of me. He throws up his hands.
“Where are you going now?”
“I need to fix things with Penny.”
“Oh. Well, then.” His face breaks into a grin. “Did you hear
that, guys?” Jake cups his hands around his mouth, calling
out over the music. “He’s done being an asshole. He’s going
to fix things with Penny.”
The place explodes into catcalls and applause. Some of
them offer good luck. Smiling, I wave them off. “Dicks,” I
mutter under my breath as I hustle out the door.  

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 Griff

“WELL,” ONE OF PENNY’S sisters says. “Go after her, you

idiot.” Her words get me moving, and I skip through the sea
of girls around me. Some of them offer me support as I pass
by, but I don’t really hear them. I’m too busy going after my
girl.
She’s already on top of the first flight when I reach the
foot of the staircase, so I bound up two at a time, hustling to
catch her. “Penny,” I call. “Please wait.”
I told her downstairs that I loved her, but she said nothing.
Maybe I’m too late. Maybe she doesn’t believe I can be
different. As I bound after her, I try to concoct as many
other ways as possible to beg for another chance and to
plead my case.
In front of me, she rounds the corner and stops on the
landing. I catch up, already talking. “Penny, please.”
I barely get in front of her when she throws herself into my
arms, wrapping her legs around my waist. Lowering my face
to her hair, I breathe her in. With her warmth against me,
everything is better. As I was driving to the house, I realized
that even though her father had offered the solutions to a
lot of problems, I still felt hollow. Without her, something
was missing.
“I love you, Red. I love you so much,” I whisper against
her hair. “I’m so sorry. I was afraid.” I mumble a bunch of
other stuff, but she rains kisses on my face, and I slide her
down my body so I can cover her mouth with mine.
The kiss is like coming home. We sip at each other, tasting
and breathing each other in. I run my hands along her back
and arms, bury them in her gorgeous, fiery hair. When I can
finally pull back long enough to speak, I say, “I thought you
were taking me to your room so you wouldn’t embarrass me
in front of your entire sorority.”
“You aren’t already embarrassed?” she asks with a
squeak.
I chuckle. “Not if you forgive me. Hell, if you need me to,
I’ll go back down there and spout off a bunch more romantic
nonsense.”
“Save your breath, Parker. I can think of better things for
you to do with your mouth.” She pulls my face closer, and
we kiss again. 
But we can’t stand here on the landing making out all
night. There are at least a hundred girls downstairs. I sweep
her into my arms and hustle us up the rest of the stairs to
her room. Kicking the door closed behind me, I set her on
her feet, and we make quick work of our clothes. When
we’re naked, we step back into each other’s arms and
groan. God, she feels amazing.
We fall together on the bed, and things get frantic. I can’t
touch enough of her, need to feel all of her. This isn’t slow
and sweet, it’s desperate and needy. When I slip on my
condom and slide inside her, though, we pause. 
“I love you, Penny,” I say. 
“I love you, too,” she whispers back, kissing my jaw. Then
I move and neither of us says anything of substance for long
minutes. I hold on until I feel her body hugging me, then I
follow her over the edge, crying out her name.
We lay together in the aftermath, our breathing heavy. I
gather her close against me. We’re both sweaty, but I don’t
want to consider any space between us. We doze off.
When she stirs against me, I drop a soft kiss on her
forehead. “Everyone downstairs knows what we are doing.”
“Yep.”
“You don’t care?” I shift so I can meet her eyes. 
“Caring too much about what others think has never
served me well.”
“You’re wise. Like Yoda.” I settle back on her pillow as she
giggles. She tucks her head on my chest, and I play with her
hair. “I haven’t figured out how to not care yet.”
“Why would you?” She tilts her head to see me. “You’re
graduating from Chesterboro University. You’re on the top
line of their championship bound hockey team. You’re
interviewing at financial companies, and you’re so smart,
I’m sure you’ll take the business world by storm.”
Hearing her pride warms my chest. I drop a quick kiss on
her cheek. I’ll never get enough of kissing her. “That might
have to wait.”
“What?”
“The financial world.” He draws a circle with his finger on
his back. “I’m going to stay here and oversee the
expansions on the gym.”
“You are?” Her eyes light up. “That’s wonderful! I thought
you couldn’t get funding, though. Are you going to find more
loans?”
“Your father didn’t tell you?” She looks genuinely
confused. “His venture capital group is going to help us.”
Her eyes flare, then narrow. “He didn’t tell me that. I told
him how much you helped me, and I told him about your
plans. Figures he’d see how it would benefit him.” She
shakes her head, but I can tell that she’s not upset. “You
should let me look over the papers, though. Just to be on
the safe side.”
“Sounds good.” I wink at her. “He told me you took on
Teddy today.”
“My father is a very smart man,” she says, grinning. “He
kept records if I ever wanted to press charges against Teddy.
I never wanted to put myself or my family through that. But
that doesn’t mean that the information doesn’t exist.” She
shrugs a shoulder. “I reminded him that if he was going to
drag you into court, that all the details of our relationship
might become relevant. I also reminded him that the draft
was in a few weeks. He’s not brilliant, but he put the pieces
together.”
I squeeze her against me. “That was really brave.”
“Teddy shouldn’t get to push people around. Not me, and
not anyone I love.” Her scowl is adorable. “The judge also
gave me the restraining order I requested. I mentioned
Teddy needs help. Counseling, something. I think his father
finally agrees with me.”
“I don’t think that would be a good enough resolution for
me. You don’t want to see him brought to justice?” 
“I heard what people were saying on campus when
everything happened. I don’t want the entire experience to
get dragged out again. He’s going to be a professional
football player. Some will support him because of that. I got
what I wanted—to be free of him. That’s enough.”
I hate that there’s probably some truth in that.
“Did he drop the charges against you, though? Call off the
disciplinary action?” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe
he did that.”
“Not yet, I don’t think. But your dad told me he should by
tomorrow.” Penny nods. “I like him.” She cocks her head.
“Your father.”
“Maybe you should come to dinner this weekend. Meet my
parents for real.” This isn’t the first time she has wanted to
introduce me to her parents. With the gym and practice, I’ve
made excuses. But that’s what they are… excuses. They
intimidated me. I should have been braver, like her, and
admitted that.
“Sounds great.”
“Unless you have practice.” She sits up. “No interfering in
the Bulldog’s path to championship victory.” She raises a fist
in the air, holding her sheet around her. 
I snag her down, tickling her. She dissolves into a fit of
giggles. “How can I lose with you beside me?”
“Awh…” She sighs. “You really are a romantic, aren’t you?”
“Only with you, Penny Hampshire. Only with you.”

Penny isn’t wrong. There’s no time for dinner with her

family before I leave for the Frozen Four in Boston on
Tuesday.
Coach is extra pissed that I missed two days of practice.
He asks me to watch tape with him. I expect to only have to
sit through tape of the team we’d play on Friday night, but
he has highlight reels from all three of the other teams.
Declan and Hunter, the others on my line, offer to sit
through it, too. They want to know how I think, since they
don’t play on my line often. I need to be sure that I’m not
the weakest link in the scenario.
Saturday night, after a grueling leg work out, I lay in bed
with Penny and confess all my worries about the new
leadership role on the team. Instead of just soothing me
over and waving her figurative pompoms, she breaks down
the reasons she thinks Coach moved me up. I’m a senior,
while some of the other options are a year or two younger.
I’m big. They already have speed on the line, but I bring
muscle that might be helpful, especially against our first
contender. She mentions my devilish good looks and
winning personality, which makes us both laugh. But
whatever she says calms me down.
Tuesday morning, I take the bus to Boston. It remains an
unspoken weight among our team that we were at this
competition last year and didn’t bring home the title.
Thursday, Penny drives up to Boston with Shea, Ivy, and
Violet. Cami and Ash drive up separate. Apparently, while I
was at the police station last week, Cami had been on
national television, confessing how she felt about Ash for
everyone to hear. 
I thought my declarations in front of Penny’s sorority were
overly public.
When we take the ice on Friday night, we’re ready. We
take the lead early against the team from Minnesota. They
can’t match our speed. By the beginning of the third, the
score is two-to-one. For this period, they’re desperate. Since
they can’t keep up with us, they get physical. The entire
period, I shut down more than one needless run at my
teammates. It’s hard-checking and pushy, and I even have a
colorful conversation with their team’s defenseman. He had
some nasty things to say about my genitals, and I
suggested he lacked any genitals at all. The referees break
it up before it gets too mean.
We win. We’re closer to Boston than the other team, so
most of the crowd are our fans. The volume in the arena is
deafening, and we wave as we clear off the ice. 
The locker room is quiet though as we undress. Everyone
feels the same as me—this win means nothing if we lose on
Sunday.
Thanks to the level of physicality, I’m covered in bruises. I
take a long hot shower to ease the aches and end up being
one of the last in the locker room. Coach hurries in with
another older gentleman. “Griff. Good. I wasn’t sure if I’d be
able to catch you.”
“Hey, Coach. What’s up?” I stand, wincing.
“This is Fenrir Mortenson. He’s a scout for the Jaguars.”
I lift my brows. “The New Jersey Jaguars?”
He nods, holding out his hand, and I shake it. “Nice to
meet you, Griff. I was wondering if you would have a few
minutes to chat.”
“Sure.” I look at my coach. “Where to?”
“This isn’t anything official. But my team has been looking
for a physical player to fill out their roster. We don’t have
the depth right now to bring in just any tough guy, though.
We need someone who can pull their weight on the
scoreboard.” He folds his arms over his chest. “Your play
might be just what we’re looking for.”
 I glance between the two men. “Are you kidding? I only
started playing a few years ago.”
“You had a high school career in lacrosse, correct? And
you do MMA?”
“Brazilian jiu-jitsu, mostly. My brother’s the MMA fighter.”
“You’re big, Griff, and you’re not afraid to use your bulk.
But you’re one of the fastest tough guys we’ve seen. We
could use that speed. Add in your level-headedness and
what your coach has to say about your leadership skills, and
you’re a winning package. At least that’s what I’m going to
tell my management office when I get back this week.”
I’m dumbfounded. Of all the future options I’ve considered
over the past few months, nothing would have prepared me
for this. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”
“You’ll be hearing more from us soon. Do you have an
agent? An attorney who might be able to help?” 
Penny’s father comes to mind. “I know a guy. If he can’t
help, I bet he’ll be able to direct me.”
“Great.” He holds out his hand. “Good luck on Sunday,
son. I’ll be rooting for you and the Bulldogs.” He probably
says that to every prospect, but I don’t take it personally.
“Thank you, Mr. Mortenson,” I say. Coach walks him out,
casting me an approving nod. I wait until they’re out of sight
to do a silent fist pump. 
I couldn’t have planned for this, but it would be a dream
come true… a dream I didn’t even let myself dwell on. It’ll
make expansion in the gym more difficult, but if I’ve learned
anything in recent weeks, it’s that I don’t have to do
everything by myself. I’ll ask for help, and I’ll make it work.
Snagging up my gear, I head for the door at a jog.
Outside, Penny’s waiting. I sweep forward, hauling her off
her feet into my arms. “You’ll never believe what just
happened.”
I tuck her under my arm as we make our way to the
parking lot where I need to catch the bus. 

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 Penny

I NEVER PLAYED COMPETITIVE sports. But at the

championship game with Violet, Ivy, and Shea, my heart
races so fast, I could play myself. We stand together in the
players’ family and friend section, arms locked together, as
we watch our guys battle against the Denver team.
It’s scoreless into the third, and I don’t think any of us
manage a full breath. With five minutes left, Griff catches
Declan on a breakaway, and he buries it in the net. The
lamp lights behind their goalie, and the three of us scream
so loud, I’m sure my voice will be hoarse in the morning.
Play intensifies, and I’ve never felt such a tense
environment. Denver pulls their goalie and adds another
attacker. They battle hard, but as the last second tick off the
clock, our team’s goal is the only one on the board.
Our fans shake the arena with their cheers. The bench
empties, and the entire team rushes the ice, jumping and
hugging each other. They drop sticks and gloves in their
hurry, and the equipment litters the surrounding ice. My
friends and I hug, holding each other as we jump up and
down. We high-five the others in our section, and there’s joy
and tears around us.
The guys shake hands with their opponents, and Denver
skates off the ice. Griff talked about how that day felt last
year, when they lose this same game. I feel a stab of
sympathy for them.
They bring a trophy out, and the guys take turns holding
it, kissing it, posing for pictures with it. Some official looking
man makes a quick speech about the perseverance it takes
to succeed at this level of hockey. I don’t know who his
words are for. Everyone on the ice knows about the effort
this win required.
Though some fans leave, we stay, watching the guys and
sharing their happiness from the stands. Below, I see Cami
Alvarez beaming next to Ash. He’s still on crutches, and I’m
sad he missed this weekend’s games. But the guys help
skate him out to center ice so he can be part of the
championship pictures.
Security is tight outside the locker rooms and by the
buses, but we see the guys in the parking lot before they
start their ride back to Chesterboro.
The smile on Griff’s face makes tears stream down mine.
When he takes me in his arms, he squeezes tight enough to
empty my lungs. I don’t care, though. This is the kind of
moment that etches itself on your memory forever.
 “Congratulations, my love,” I whisper to him. “You deserve
this, like you deserve all good things.”
He buries his face in my neck and says, “You’re the best of
my good things, Penny Hampshire.”
I hold him tight. “Same.”

The university holds an all-campus party on Wednesday

evening after the championship. They barbecue, have
games, and set up a deejay booth on the Quad. Finals start
in a week and a half, so people embrace the opportunity to
relax. It’s a beautiful night, warm enough it almost feels like
summer. Lots of students drag blankets into the grass to sit
on.
The hockey team congregates together after the college
president offers his congratulations and shakes Coach
Chandler’s hand. We group a few blankets together and
sprawl out together. The guys share highlights of the
season, and there’s plenty of ribbing. Eventually, someone
pulls up video of Ivy and Declan’s stint on the campuswide
dance competition. Always good sports, the couple gets up
and dances for everyone. Considering they had no chance
to prepare and pick up right in the middle of the song the
deejay is playing, they do a great job.
At the end of the music, they finish on a dip, and everyone
bursts into cheers. The next song is fast as well. Linc gets to
his feet and holds his hand out to Shea. “Shall we?”
 Shea searches the sea of faces, obviously not as
comfortable with the spotlight as the rest of them.
“Maybe…”
Ivy reaches for her. “It’s a salsa.” She shows us, using the
most basic dance steps. With the ease of a soon-to-be
professional dancer, she walks Shea through it all. Shea
appears to get the hang of it quickly. Violet hops to her feet
and joins in, then coaxes the rest of us to try. I allow her to
pull me up next to her. In moments, almost everyone is
shimmying along to the music.
I reach a hand down to where Griff’s still sprawled out on
the blanket I brought. “Come on, Parker. You got this.”
He shakes his head. “I told you, Red. I don’t dance.”
I stop, rolling my eyes at him. But I won’t take no for an
answer. “Fine. We’ll just hold each other and sway.”
He offers an exaggerated sigh before he gets to his feet.
Winking at me, he gathers me against him. “That I can do.
Anytime you want.”
I sigh into him, shifting so my cheek presses against his
chest, and I can watch our friends goofing off.
Ash balances on his crutches next to us, wiggling his ass,
while Cami salsas perfectly next to him. I didn’t realize Linc
was such a talented dancer, but he’s twirling Shea around
the grass like they should have been the ones in the dance
competition. Declan and Ivy have given up dancing entirely,
and he’s whispering in her ear. Whatever he’s telling her
probably isn’t appropriate for the crowd, because the color
is high on Ivy’s cheeks. I grin.
Nearby, Violet tries to get Hunter to dance. She’s going
over the moves with him, but he’s not relaxing enough to
catch on. He pushes his glasses up his nose, and I feel like I
catch something… private on his face. It’s gone
immediately, though. Maybe I’m wrong.
“What the hell is going on here?” A loud voice interrupts
us. Cord Spellman, last year’s hockey captain, is crossing
the grass toward us, holding hands with Hannah Marshall.
Hannah grew up in Chesterboro as well, but she was a year
older than I was. I don’t know her well. She was quiet and
spent most of her time with the music kids, but I always
thought she had kind eyes. Cord waves his hands at us. “A
year goes by, and suddenly the whole damn team dances in
public like a bunch of idiots? Also, can Hannah and I join in?”
He laughs as she circles her arm around his waist.
Everyone hurries forward to greet him. There are a lot of
hugs and pats on the back. When Griff drags me forward to
introduce me to Cord, I shake his hand and say hello to
Hannah, who is gracious, and says she remembers me.
“The deejay is over there, you guys.” Cord offers,
pointing. “Let’s say we show this place how to party.” There
are whoops as people take off in that direction. Declan
sweeps Ivy into his arms and carries her at a run while she
squeals, hanging on for dear life.
Griff grabs my hand. “What do you say, Red?”
 “You don’t dance, Griff,” I remind him.
“I’ll hold and sway with you?” He offers with a hopeful
look on his face.
“Anytime you want,” I reply. Then I stand up on tiptoe and
kiss him. It’s only supposed to be quick, but he pulls me
against him and deepens the contact. When I’m breathless,
I pull away, laughing as he drags me across the grass after
our friends.

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 What's next...

Thank you for reading The Enforcer! I hope you enjoyed it. If
you did, please help readers find this book by telling your
friends and leaving a review. Word of mouth and reviews
help authors more than you know!

To leave a review on Amazon, click here.

Don't forget, you can join my newsletter to stay up to date
on what's going on with my writing!

If you'd like to check in on the Chesterboro gang, I hope

you'll preorder your copy of The Chesterboro Wedding now.
Cord and Hannah are coming back to Chesterboro to get
married, and this is your chance to get a peek into
everyone's happily ever afters. This won't be a full-length
novel, but it will be a collection of epilogues. I plan to revisit
all of the couples. If you've had any questions about what
happens next on their journeys, I hope you'll stop back in
when it releases.
Preorder your copy now!!
Until then, I hope you've checked out the other books in
the series.
Did you want to see how Cord and Hannah fell in love? If
so, check out the first book in the series, The Captain!

You can find out what happens when Linc is forced to

confront his feelings for his best friend’s sister in The
Blueliner!
Watch Ivy and Declan’s opposites attract story in The
Playmaker.
See how Ash and Cami get their second chance at love in
The Grinder.

I'll be starting a new series linked to my Chesterboro world

in 2023! My next stories will be set around Philadelphia and
based on the Philadelphia Tyrant NHL hockey team. You'll
meet new characters and catch up with older ones as the
team from Philadelphia rebuilds their club. I hope you'll join
me for the first book, coming in Spring 2023!
Join my newsletter here so you won't miss any updates!
Until then, Happy Reading, everyone!

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 About the Author

Josie Blake writes college-set, hockey romance with sass

and emotion. She also writes award-winning romantic
suspense and scifi thrillers as Marnee Blake. You can find out
more about that here.

Originally from a small town in western Pennsylvania, she

now battles traffic in southern New Jersey where she lives
with her hero husband and their happily-ever-after: two very
energetic sons. When she isn’t writing, she can be found
next to a hockey rink or swimming pool, cooking up
something sweet, or hiding from encroaching dust bunnies
with a book.
She loves to hear from readers so please feel free to drop
her a note or visit her website at josieblake.com.
Connect with her on Instagram at
instagram.com/josieblakeauthor, or on Facebook at
facebook.com/JosieBlakeAuthor
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