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will.” He opened his driver-side door and I slipped off his lap. I smirked at him as I watched him adjust himself. It was clear he’d been as riled up as I was, and I liked the thought.
    I stepped onto the sidewalk and made my way toward my apartment. Glancing behind me, I waved to Craig as he drove away. Even though tonight hadn’t been the best night I’d ever had, it had ended well. And that was a plus.
     

 

CHAPTER FOUR
    CAMERON
     
    There were only a few numbers in my phone for people from Norhurst or Coldcreek, but of the few I did have, they all knew exactly how hard I liked to throw down and would be spreading the word. Because Craig’s parents’ place was technically smack dab between both towns, this party was going to be epic. Craig would flip when he came back and found half of the college campus at his house along with a big fucking keg sitting in his living room.
    My lips twisted into a wicked grin.
    Out of all the people I knew were sure to come, there was only one person I couldn’t wait to see—Eva. She’d been the first person I called when contemplating who to invite. Eva was like Paige in the sense that she had that innocent angel look about her. She had brown hair past her shoulders, and a shapely little body that made my mouth water just thinking about it. With a set of killer long legs and eyes the color of the ocean, Eva was my dream girl breathed to life.
    I’d met her at Shooter’s, a little bar near Norhurst University, one night when I was hammered all to hell. I’d noticed her as soon as she’d walked into the room. She’d been wearing this cute little strappy dress and a pair of high heels. I’d sent her three drinks during the course of an hour and she’d refused them all. Frustrated, I’d finally managed to drag my drunken ass off my stool, and walk over to find out what drink she preferred, because the ones I’d picked out for her didn’t seem to be it. She’d laughed and said she wasn’t drinking, that she was her friend’s D.D. for the night, so unless I was buying her a soda, she didn’t want it.
    We’d sat and talked for a while. There was something about her I couldn’t get enough of. I couldn’t pinpoint it either, and it drove me mad. I stopped drinking and resorted to water only, thinking this would make me sober up quick enough to realize what that thing was. It didn’t. I was shitfaced. We’d talked some more. I’d mentioned the fact that she had a sexy, yet innocent face, but her eyes gave away her inner freak. It had been a ballsy move, but Eva had taken it in stride. She’d cocked her head to the side and quoted Ernest Hemingway. I’ll never forget that moment—or her words—until the day that I die.
    “All things truly wicked start from an innocence.”
    She’d added honey on to the end, but it was the Hemingway quote that caught my attention and held it. In that moment, I knew we were meant to cross paths. Hemingway had been my all-time favorite American writer and short-story novelist since the seventh grade, when a teacher had opened my eyes to his words. I’d flashed her the tattoo I’d gotten after my parents died, and it was as though a rite of passage to a lifelong friendship between us had been born right there in the middle of a college bar.
    A smile twisted at my lips from the memories. I tipped back the remainder of the third beer I’d brought outside with me and glanced up through the wooden pergola beams above my head at the stars. They were sparse; the clouds covered them. Closing my eyes, I listened to the crickets surrounding me. Something about the night always made me feel insignificant and small. Maybe it was being surrounded by darkness, maybe it was not being able to see more than a step ahead of me, or maybe it was not being in control of my surroundings. I didn’t like surprises, and in the dark, everything was a surprise, because you could never see anything coming until it was too late.
    A door opened behind me,