Kiss To Forget (Blairwood University #2) - Anna B. Doe
Prologue
NIXON
CHRISTMAS BALL
“Do you think they’re still at it?” I look toward Zane.
The night is pitch black, and I’m positively buzzed from the party we’ve been at, so I have to squirm to see his broody mug clearly.
“God, I hope not.” He rubs at his face, clearly tired. “The last thing I need is to listen to the headboard of Hayden’s bed bang against my wall all night long.”
The look on Zane’s face—and okay, maybe the alcohol—makes me burst into laughter.
Hayden is another one of our roommates and a wide receiver for the Blairwood Ravens, our college football team for which I’m also playing. He and his girlfriend, Callie, ditched the party as soon as they could. Not that I can blame him. If there’s one good thing about having a girlfriend, it’s the fact that you get to have sex anytime you want without actually having to look for it. Besides, Callie is a cool chick.
“Well, since they just got back together, I’d say you’re out of luck.”
Zane’s only reply is a loud grunt, which only makes me laugh harder.
The front porch light turns on when we move closer, blinding me temporarily.
Home sweet home.
Maddox, our fourth and final roommate, bought this house at the end of our freshman year of college and invited us to come live with him. It was a sweet deal, one I couldn’t refuse, so here we are. My family isn’t poor by any means, and I could afford to rent an apartment of my own, but I love having people around.
Tomorrow though, we’ll be packing to return to our actual homes and families for the upcoming holidays. Finals just finished the other day, and we’ve been waiting for the Christmas ball—an annual celebration here at Blairwood, in which the dean recognizes all the students’ accomplishments that happened in the past year—to be over so we can pack and go.
Zane pulls a key out of his pocket and starts unlocking the door when I feel my phone vibrate.
“You coming?” Zane asks, looking at me over his shoulder.
I start digging inside my pocket to get to the phone. “What?” I give him a quick look before concentrating on finding the damn thing. “In a minute. Leave it open.”
“Sure thing.”
He closes the door behind him just as my finger wraps around the sleek device. I pull it out, my heart stopping when I see the name on the screen.
“What’s going on?” I ask in a hurry as soon as I accept the call. It’s after two in the freaking morning. Nothing good happens at this time of night.
My worries are confirmed when there is a low sniffle on the other end of the line. Dread swirls inside me, making my gut clench. My stomach rolls uncomfortably, bile rising in my throat.
“Smalls?” I try again, holding on to my sanity as best as I can while all I want to do is yell to get some answers.
“He’s gone, Nix.” Another sniffle. “H-he’s…”
The lump in my throat grows bigger, so big it’s suffocating me. I force it down, trying to hold on to some clarity.
“I’m on my way.”
Chapter One
NIXON
JANUARY
“Dammit, not again.” I groan as I catch sight of the clock on the wall of the English building I’m heading toward. It’s mocking me with its big needles pointing at ten minutes past two o’clock. Meaning I’m ten minutes late to my English class.
Fucking hell.
In my defense, I didn’t sleep in or anything stupid like that. No, I spent the last two hours working out in the gym and had to hunt down Coach to ask him if I could borrow the DVD to make a copy to do some prep before our upcoming game. The Blairwood Ravens got into the playoff stage of the college football national championship, and we have a real shot at going all the way, so every single player is doing his best to make it happen. It’s my job as starting quarterback, and one of the captains, to set an example. Granted, coming late to class and risking being benched, if it pisses my professor off, isn’t exactly the best way of doing that.
Switching to a full-on run, I take two steps at a time and pray to God that I don’t fall on my ass. Snow has been falling relentlessly, and everything is icy. The last thing I need is to break my fucking leg. That’d be just my luck. But hell, as a quarterback, I need my arm to work, not my leg, so