Never Let Go

By: Scarlett Edwards

Book Description:



Inspired by true events...



The first day of college gives every girl a chance to reinvent herself.

I go and screw mine up by meeting the most gorgeous guy I've seen in five years while talking to my cat.

But Andrew Crowner is far from judgemental. By the end of our interaction, he has me smitten by his easy manner and kind smile. And from the way his eyes linger on me before he leaves, I start to think that maybe I’ve caught his attention, too.

I let myself believe that luck may finally be on my side. That is, until I stumble on my roommate, and her overnight guest: Spencer Ashford.

Lean, tattooed, and sexy as sin, Spencer is exactly the type I need to avoid. I would have no trouble with that... were it not for his swift and inexplicable interest in me.

Suddenly, I go from a girl with next-to-no experience with boys to one caught in the crosshairs of two completely different men.

Andrew's interest is wholesome and sweet. Spencer's is edgy and raw. My choice should be easy. But there are always complications, and sometimes, matters of the heart take the least expected turns.

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been use fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.





Chapter One



I grunt, setting down the last of my suitcases in front of the unfamiliar building. Even though the sun has already set, it’s hot. Late summer is here with a vengeance.

I sit on the steps to catch my breath, wiping the sweat from my brow. “Looks like it’s just you and me, buddy.”

Meow.

“Oh, come on, don’t look at me that way. I know this is far from home, but at least getting here a day early means we’ll have our pick of rooms.”

Meow?

“No, I’m sure you’re not the only cat on campus. Just because we haven’t seen any others so far doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

Meow!

“Now you’re just being grumpy ‘cause you’ve been stuck in that cage all day. I’m not going to keep you there forever! Just let me rest a bit, and then we’ll go upstairs and—”

I freeze when I hear somebody chuckling behind me.

“Don’t let me stop you,” a very male voice announces. “What happens when you get upstairs?”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. Oh. My. God. I could not be more mortified if somebody had dunked me in a tank of molasses, poured chicken feathers all over, and forced me to walk around campus like that for a week. Being known as the crazy girl who talks to cats is not how I want to start my new life.

I debate staying absolutely still and attempting to blend in with my surroundings. Given that I’m sitting on the gray stone blocks wearing a bright yellow blouse and tiny green denim shorts, that course of action seems unwise. Of course, I could just pretend not to have heard him. Maybe he will go away.

“Well?” the voice behind me prompts. “You were saying?”

Damn. That doesn’t look like it will work either. I have no choice but to face my demise.

Please be ugly, I beg in my head as I slowly turn. Please be hideously, horrifyingly, mind-numbingly deformed…

Nope. No such luck. The guy standing there, smiling at me, has a face that belongs in a fashion magazine. He’s wearing cargo shorts and a tussled white polo. His light brown hair curls a little on top, with the sides cropped into a stylish cut.

Just one flaw, I think, downgrading my expectations. Please, please, please have just one discernible flaw.

I look him up and down. I can’t find anything wrong. He’s got a sweet smile, nice white teeth, and an athletic build. Maybe he’s one of those mortal beings with one or two glaring personality flaws.

“You’re new here,” he says, startling me from my reverie. It’s not a question.

“What?” I swallow and brush the hair out of my eyes. “Um, yeah.”

What God did I piss off to meet the most attractive guy I’ve seen in a year in my condition? I have no makeup on, a sweat-stained shirt on my back, and he’d caught me talking to my cat.

Kill me now.

“I can tell by the suitcases,” he says, nudging one of them with his toe.

I stare up at him. I don’t say a word. Belatedly, I realize he’s made a joke. Is it too late to laugh?

God, why do I have to be so awkward? Usually I’m not like this. But usually I don’t meet hot guys after sixteen grueling hours on the road.

“Um, okay,” the guys says. “Do you speak English?” He enunciates the last word loudly. “ENGLISH.” He tries to frown, but his grin keeps winning out. “Yo hablo español. Hablas español?”

He’s making such a ridiculous effort I have to laugh. It seems to perk him up.

“So you do have some social skills after all,” he smiles. “I was afraid you only talk to that guy.” He jerks a thumb in the direction of the cage.

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean—” Damn. I’m flustered. I decide to tackle things head-on.

I stand up and offer him my hand. “I’m Paige,” I say, doing my best to appear somewhat normal.

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