Chapter One

Taking in the lawns littered with passed out frat boys and half empty red cups, I fight the buzz fueled giggle that bubbles up in my chest, as I mentally check off everything civilized adults have warned young women about.  Young girl walking alone, check.  In the presence of inebriated frat boys, check.  Impossibly high heels, check.  Tiny dress and a tinier purse containing only a key, my phone and small tube of lip gloss-noticeably too small for any weapon or attacker deterrent, check.  I should be terrified but I’m not. This is what freedom feels like - well freedom and two feet covered in blisters.

            Hopping around on one foot, I struggle to remove my high heel without tipping over.  I’m not drunk, but I’m not exactly sober and the uneven sidewalk along Fraternity Row is making these ridiculous heels impossible.  With shoes now dangling from my hand, I take the last few steps to the old frat house that has been converted into living space for students.  The sounds of a pool party echo through the night from the house behind the building, and I roll my eyes as a shrill girl scream pierces the air before a large splash. 

            The grass is cold and wet beneath my feet as I tiptoe along the side of my building to the trellis that climbs the wall to the roof.  I have lost track of exactly what time it is but hope I haven’t missed it.  Having done this before I know exactly what lies at the top of the trellis, so I back myself up and begin throwing my carried items onto the roof.  I can’t help but giggle, the freedom and ridiculousness of this moment in time is too much.  The heels land with a small thud and I reach into my purse, remove my phone and tuck it into my bra with a grin of satisfaction before whizzing my purse in the air with the hopes of a smooth landing. 

            A low chuckle behind me causes my heart to jump into my throat.  I turn around to find out if I have just become “that girl,” you know, the one that ends up missing in her last year of college; the one we all see on the news when they flash her high school picture and cut to a news conference on the lawn of her parents’ house.  The lights from the frat house are on and a large figure is cast in black sitting on the short, dilapidated brick wall extending between the two properties.  When he sees me struggle to see his face, he leans into the light and tips his cup in my direction in some unwritten college salute that I believe means carry on. 

            My eyes follow the path of his arm away from the cup and take in the tattoo that begins at his elbow and climbs his strong bicep then dips under his sleeve.  His jaw is strong and noticeably clean-shaven and his lips are pursed in a tight smile as he gazes at me over his cup.  I can’t make out the color of his eyes but his hair is dark and short from what I can see as it peaks out from underneath a baseball cap turned backwards.  The feeling in my stomach is definitely not fear as it winds tight and heavy with lust.  Killers don’t laugh at their victims right? I think I’m fine so I turn back to my trellis and hike my small dress up my thighs so that I can climb without killing myself. 

            I can feel his eyes on me as I climb off of the ground and I try to focus instead on the low thump of the music playing somewhere in the distance. 

            “Is this some LA tradition I don’t know about?” his voice rumbles low in my stomach and forces the air from my lungs.  I glance over my shoulder as uninterested as I can pretend and find him now standing at the bottom of the trellis working his bottom lip with his teeth, eyebrows lifted with question. 

            “How else I am supposed to get up to the roof when clearly it is a behavior the management frowns upon?  There must be twenty doors in the damn building and not one leads to the roof.”   I am rambling now, somewhere between a rush of words and a low mumble to myself.   Lifting my foot up again, I place it in the next small square but the wood is too wet from the dewy evening air and I slip unexpectedly, causing my body to dangle precariously from the slipping grip I have on the trellis. 

            The ground is not far below, but given the small heart attack I just gave myself and the presence of this man below me with his clean scent lingering around my head, I feel a little disoriented.  Warm hands lightly brush the back of my calves and work their way up over the sensitive skin behind my knees as his rough thumbs leave trails of heat along the inside of my parted legs.  With a firm hold on the back of my thighs he lifts me enough to slip my feet into the trellis holes and I slowly let go of the breath I had been holding.  Realizing that he can probably see straight up my dress I clamp my eyes closed and try hard to remember if I at least have on a pair of panties I can be proud of.  A warm flush climbs up my chest and into my cheeks when I remember that I chose my smallest black lace panties so that no lines could be seen through my dress. 

            “I thought I had myself some sort of female quarterback for a minute with that perfect pass you threw to the roof, but clearly it is your agility that keeps you from the team.”  With a quick slap to my ass he winks at me and says,   “Knees up Rookie, we’ll make a first string player out of you.” Then it hits me: this large completely male being that now stands below me, grinning as I burn from embarrassment and excitement, is our team’s quarterback, and I have now dangled my nearly naked ass right in his face.  Well, there is no recovering from this so I reach above me and make the last few steps up to the roof.

            “Thanks for the help, Coach, but I would now like to get onto the roof with a little of my dignity still intact. So, would you please turn around so I can disappear into the darkness and we can pretend this never happened?”  My voice starts out strong but quickly becomes very timid as I plead for his complete forgetfulness. 

            “Not a chance Rookie,” he slowly drawls shaking his head back and forth allowing his eyes to trail up and reach mine.  “Can’t take the risk of you getting injured.  Go ahead and climb on up there and I’ll spot you from here.”  Now he just looks so proud of himself he is almost too cute to argue with.

            “How big of you,” I bite out sarcastically causing him to chuckle again, tightening the lust that has built in my stomach.  I throw myself over the ledge and slide as low as I can with my back to the small wall lining the roof.  I wait in silence half wanting him to leave and never see me again, and the other half already sad at the loss. 

            “I know I’m from the South and y’all do things a little different here, but aren’t you going to invite me up Sweetheart?” His voice is gruff and the exaggerated southern accent, from a man wearing a shirt that stretches across his muscular chest and hangs slightly over jeans that dip low on his hips in the way most college boys born in raised in California wear them, makes me giggle again like a school girl and I slap my hand over my mouth to make it stop.  I sit for a minute, contemplating if I should invite him up or see if he will go away.  The creaking sound of the old trellis enters my consciousness and I can’t believe he is climbing it.  I lunge over the ledge to check his progress but quickly find myself in the precarious position of almost knocking him from his position on the trellis with my chest. 

            “Well now, this just keeps getting better and better, Rookie.”  When his eyes meet mine I glower in mock anger and cross my arms over my chest.

            “I realize you may be used to women throwing their assets in your face all day…”

            “I’m not complaining,” he replies with a shrug causing my lips to quiver as I try to fight off a smile unsuccessfully.  I put my angry face back on and begin again.

            “I wasn’t finished.  Like I was saying, while you may have grown accustomed to women shoving their assets at you, I have a little class and would not have willingly assaulted you with said assets, so please can we forget the last thirty minutes of our lives and move on?”  While his brow rises in question at the declaration of my class, he quickly composes himself and climbs the rest of the way over the ledge.  When he reaches his hand out to me I place mine in his firmly to shake.

            “I’m Madeline.”

            “Nice to meet you, Madeline, I’m Jackson.”  His grip tightens and he pulls me so that my body brushes against the side of his.  Jackson’s lips touch my ear and the heat from his mouth rushes down my body causing my skin to flush again.  Releasing my hand, he wraps an arm around my back to steady me and then takes in a breath while his face is buried in my hair.

            “You can try to pretend the last thirty minutes between us didn’t happen but I don’t want to waste the time forgetting when my mind would rather spend it imagining what might happen next.” He slowly moves his hand from my back, sliding it down to my hip and then takes a step away from me as my head spins with a lust drunk feeling.  Our eyes lock again but we say nothing, both of us standing in the intensity of the moment. 

            “So my beautiful Rookie, what are we doing up here?” My heart speeds up at the realization he just called me his and even though it may have been a slip, the pleasure that rushes through me at the thought of being his is such a thrill.  It takes a moment to remember what I had come up here to do and I shake my head to clear the fog and try to recall something, anything that might have brought me up here. 

            “The meteor shower.” It is a whisper that is thick with desire so I clear my throat so he can’t hear my need.  “Tonight there is a meteor shower.  Should be any minute now and in order to see it best we need to be above the lights.”  That’s right, that’s what I’m doing up here. 

            “Let me get this right:  you walked alone from God knows where along Frat Row in killer heels and that tiny dress with the plans to climb that old trellis and watch the stars by yourself on the roof of some old building?”  I nod and throw my shoulders back ready to defend my decision even though now that he has put it in words it does sound a little immature and dangerous.  Jackson holds a finger up so he can continue.  I am afraid it will be some brotherly lecture on how unsafe I have been and highlights all of the moments I could have been killed but instead he smiles, “This must be the best spot in town to see the stars and some epic meteor shower for all of that risk.”  I get the message and after growing up in a house of all men, I appreciate the subtle delivery over the stern lecture I have grown accustomed to. 

            “I love to sit up here.  I have a little spot set up over in the corner.  I wasn’t expecting any company but I think there is room for two if you want to join me.  It is supposed to hit around 2am but I have no idea what time it is now. “  I should have checked my phone when I put it in my bra but the thought hadn’t dawned on me then and right now I’m not about to reach around in there to drag it out. 

            Jackson reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell phone.  When he unlocks it, the message icon blinks with messages and a chime rings to notify him as well.  I fight the urge to roll my eyes at the thought of all the girls who have probably tried to get ahold of him tonight.  I expect him to return a few texts after he checks the time but he doesn’t.  Instead, he smiles a smile that floods me with heat and says, “We’re in luck; it’s just about 2.”

            I begin to wonder what it would feel like to lightly drag my hand down the side of his face, to run my finger over his lips and taste him.  Although I have had a few beers, almost falling from the trellis has sobered me up a bit, so the dizziness I feel around Jackson has to be induced by my proximity to him.  I want to be close to him again, to feel his hand graze my hip and to feel the heat from his lips at my ear.  I watch as his eyes rake over me from my feet to the hem of my dress and then slowly up to my eyes again.  I have never been so consumed with a need to be near a man in my life and I quickly understand what he meant when he said he wanted to imagine what would happen next.

            I haven’t shown anyone my small escape on the roof of this old building.  I needed one place that I can’t be found.  Being the little sister to three older brothers leaves me very little time that one of them isn’t trying to make sure I’m safe and protected.  I don’t hold it against them; they are just doing what is expected of them. It is me who is not following the rules.  Today is my twenty-first birthday and those damn unwritten rules that have suffocated me my entire life dictate that I should be finishing up my undergraduate work, merely a way to meet a husband, so that I can marry him and begin my life as a trophy wife at some country club of my family’s choosing.  I just want some time to find myself first, just a pause in this fast paced track to Babytown and charity events. 

            In the end I know I can’t disappoint my father.  I will marry Greg, the junior executive at his company I started dating last year before he graduated.  I will tuck away my dreams of leaving a mark on this world and settle down into a quiet existence in a big house on the hill so that my father never has to worry and my brothers can breath a sigh of relief and live their lives instead of trying to contain mine.  Jackson can sit with me for a night on the roof in my little piece of the world that isn’t tainted by the stupid rules, but when the show is over he will go back to his world of football and women and I need to suck it up and put my dreams to rest. 

            Most college girls spend their twenty-first birthday drinking themselves into oblivion at some dive bar near campus.  My roommate Abby tried very hard to make that happen, but I knew for my last night of freedom I wanted to be sober enough to watch it pass, to enjoy every minute I was off the family map.  Greg and my brothers think I am at a sleepover with some girls studying for finals, and Abby went home with her boyfriend after I promised I would be fine walking back to our apartment alone.  She gave me a sad smile when she left but knew better than to fight me on any matter that had to do with my independence. 

            Jackson’s phone chimes again and he silences it and shoves it back into his pocket.  “You can answer it Jackson, it’s not like this is a date.”  I turn and walk past the skylight and find the blanket and small bottle of champagne I left earlier in the day.  Every little detail of my life is meticulously planned to ensure success at the future my father and brothers have dictated for me.  Every once in a while I usurp a few minutes of my own day and add a small touch of me, which is why I have been planning on celebrating my birthday on the roof during a meteor shower with a small bottle of cheap champagne.  It may be the last time I don’t have to consider if my choice of beverage is socially acceptable for the event.   

            “It’s not important,” he begins to follow me around the skylight and a curious look crosses his face when he sees the champagne, “What are we celebrating?”

            “It’s my twenty-first birthday, or was my birthday,” I say as I unfold the large blanket and make a place for us to sit on the ground. 

            “My mother would kill me if she ever found out I attended a party without an invitation and did not bring a gift for the guest of honor.  I think it would reinforce her fears that I have completely left my southern hospitality behind when I moved here.”  He grabs the edge of the blanket and helps to straighten it out a bit and then toes his shoes off, sits down on the blanket and reaches for the champagne. 

            “Don’t be silly Jackson, your secret is safe with me.”  I wonder where he grew up and how deep that southern heritage is in his blood.  I won’t ask because there is no time and questions about his family might bring questions about mine and I don’t want any of that spilling into these last moments in my space.  I sit down next to him with my knees drawn up, hugging my legs and watching him uncork the bottle.

            “What is a beautiful girl like you doing alone on her twenty-first birthday, Maddy?  Shouldn’t you be at home celebrating with some lucky guy who gets to tuck you in when this champagne makes you tipsy?”  Hearing my name shortened for the first time in my life causes a feeling of depersonalization.  Greg would never call me Maddy.  The image of being tucked into bed and kissed tenderly by a man flashes through my brain but it isn’t Greg I imagine and I quickly look away from Jackson as I realize I am staring at his lips.

            “I want to see the show and he isn’t one for getting a little dirty even if the reward is worth it.”  Now I have put it out there, Jackson knows there is someone in my life so I can let go of the small guilt that has crept in with the image of Jackson in my bed.  “What about you Mr. Quarterback, shouldn’t you be tucking some girl into bed somewhere or at least answering her text?” 

            “Who knows what tonight will bring.  She can survive a few hours without being attached to my jock.  I don’t make any promises during the season so she knows what she has gotten into. “  The champagne opens with a pop and some of the bubbly fluid cascades over his hand so he rushes the bottle to his mouth to catch it and then hands the bottle over to me.  It is warm from sitting up here all day but that just adds to the freedom of the night in that it isn’t perfect like everything always has to be.    

            We pass the bottle back and forth a few times and I feel the warmth of the alcohol rushing through my veins and relax, as my muscles grow warm and pliant.  Jackson lies down with one arm behind his head and begins to draw small circles on my back with the thumb from his other hand, which sits just above my waist.  I should stop him but I can’t, desire is clouding my judgment and I swear I can feel the tingle from his touch in places I haven’t felt in a long time.  I drink from the bottle again, and when I feel that familiar buzz from earlier begin to take over my head I finish the bottle so that I won’t think too hard about tonight and what I can’t have.   No one touches me as sensually as Jackson is right now.  Greg follows the same rules that I do, maintaining a reasonable distance as to not risk soiling my pure reputation before marriage. 

            A meteor streaks across the sky above us.  Jackson lightly tugs on my hip so that I lay back and onto his outstretched arm.  His warmth envelops me and the excitement of the shooting stars mixed with the warmth of his skin and the heat of the alcohol makes me press my body against his.  A few more meteors streak by and I lean on to my side as he pulls me closer to him, draping his arm over mine and tracing lines with his fingers from my exposed shoulder to my elbow and back again.  I lift my foot a little and cross it over his leg, tangling our legs together as I drape my arm across his stomach.  I feel his breath catch when I slip my thumb under his shirt and graze the skin of his abdomen with my fingers. 

            “What are you doing, Maddy?” his voice is husky with lust and I know I am playing a dangerous new game but the inhibition is gone as I feel his skin against mine.

            “Watching the stars, Jackson.  What are you doing?” We both know that the stars have fallen a far second to this game of light touches.

            “Trying to remind myself that you already have someone to tuck you in tonight.  Those fingers of yours are making that hard though. What I am thinking of instead is how much I want to know if your lips taste as good as they look.”  I look up and into his eyes and want so badly to tell him to find out, to just forget about Greg and the stupid rules and feel what it would be like to have a man want me for more than how perfectly we could charm high society together.  Jackson’s phone buzzes against the inside of my thigh and I reach into his pocket and retrieve it for him, keeping my eyes locked onto his, which are staring back at me with such an intensity I feel I could melt. 

            Jackson adjusts us a bit so that I am flat on my back and he is supported by his elbow and uses the hand that was behind his head to flip the lock on the phone and read the message.  He types back a message and I can see that he has answered Not tonight  in response to a text that read Want me to come over?   He has someone too I remind myself and glance back up to the sky which is now dark and void of shooting stars.  He slips the phone back into his pocket, lightly touches my knee and then slowly begins make a warm trail up my thigh with his middle finger.

            We are both watching as his finger slides up my thigh and inches towards the hem of my dress.  My arousal grows with each second and I can feel that he is fighting his own arousal at my side.  When his fingertip reaches my hem he slides it beneath and lays his hand flat against my thigh for the briefest of seconds before closing his eyes and releasing a breath.  He tugs my hem down a fraction then places his hand at my hip. 

            “It is getting late, Maddy, and I think you might be a little drunk now so I want to make sure you get home safe.  Let me take you there. “  The disappointment I feel is intense and crushes my chest but he is right.  I’m a little drunk now and he needs to go home to someone else, someone who can be his.  I nod my head in agreement and sit up.  Jackson stands up and extends a hand to me to help pull me up to my feet.  I drop his hand when our connection causes goose bumps to prickle my skin.  We separate to look for my purse and shoes and then meet up again at the top of the trellis. 

            Jackson goes down the trellis first and waits for me at the bottom.  I am far more graceful this time climbing down the trellis, but I slip when my bare feet meet the wet grass causing my ankle to twist.  I don’t fall down but when I try to straighten myself out the pain in my ankle makes standing on it impossible. 

            “Rookie mistake,” he whispers in my ear and then swoops me up into his arms.  “I hope you don’t live far,” he says in a low voice, both of us now aware of the late time and open windows.

            “This is my building.  Did I miss the part where you rode up on a white horse and aren’t you supposed to be wearing some sort of shining armor? “ I can barely get the question out without giggling but then once the giggles start I can’t get them to stop. 

            “Looks like the damsel I have just rescued is not only in distress but is also drunk.”  A smile flashes across his face as he begins walking up to the front entrance.  When we enter my building I point in the direction of my front door and begin to fish the key from my purse.  He holds me while I open the door and rest my head in the crook of his neck and shoulder preparing myself for the moment where he puts me down and rides off. 

            “Which way is your room, Maddy?” I point down the hall on our left and he kicks the door closed behind us.  I lift my head and look into his eyes as he enters my room and that tension is instantly between us again.  I have never had a boy in my room before as ridiculous as that sounds.  My heart speeds up with anticipation and need as Jackson moves to set me down on the bed.

 My arms instinctively wrap around his neck as he bends to place me on top of the covers.  I don’t let go right away and our eyes meet.  “Let me help get you under the covers, just lift up your hips a bit so I can pull down the sheets.”  I do as he asks still holding on loosely to his neck and when he has released the sheets from under me he helps to ease me back against the pillows.  We are still for a minute and I drop my gaze to his lips wanting them to meet mine more than anything I have ever wanted.  

The energy between us is magnetic and our bodies are pulled together until my face is near to his and our lips meet ever so lightly.  The kiss is sweet at first, a slow exploration of tastes and tugs until I open my mouth and his tongue sweeps into me breaking my restraint, sending the kiss into a frenzy of need and desire.  Jackson’s hands slide over my body and his heat permeates my dress and scorches my skin.   I arch into his hands needing to feel him everywhere but he pulls away shutting his eyes tightly. 

“You’re a little drunk beautiful birthday girl, and if we don’t stop, the regret you would feel in the morning would be more painful than that ankle is going to be.”  We both stare into each other’s eyes and try to get ahold of our breathing.  When his appears in control again he kisses my forehead and I shut my eyes against the tenderness of it.  With one last big breath I breathe him in and then let go of his neck. 

Jackson pulls the covers up around me and whispers in my ear, “It has been an honor to tuck you in, my little Rookie, please don’t regret a minute of this in the morning because it has been one of the best nights of my life. “  With that he kisses me one last time on my cheek before turning and walking out of my room.