Chapter 1

Rhys Delgado loved fairness above all.

So every time he took the hand of some young girl, he'd hand me a college boy on the side, to keep things even.

The first time, I went out of my mind and smashed everything in the house to pieces.

Rhys didn't stop me.

He stood by the door and watched with cold eyes, and only when I'd worn myself out and slumped to the floor did he go back to his room.

Leaving me alone with the wreckage.

Then came the second time, the third time... more times than I could count.

I went from breaking down to going numb, until at last I could calmly tell those men who tried to climb my bed for a shortcut that I wasn't like Rhys.

I wouldn't dirty myself just to get back at the person I loved.

Until he brought home a different kind of girl.

The new one was sweet and delicate, hiding behind Rhys, watching me with timid eyes.

Rhys spoke in that mocking tone of his. "Maisie Henson's pregnant. She'll be staying here through the pregnancy. Take good care of her."

"And of course, I've got your payment ready. The top-scoring freshman Capital University admitted this year. More than good enough for you."

I nodded, unmoved, and pulled out the bank card I'd prepared long ago, ready to send the man off the way I always did.

Until I looked up, and froze on the spot.

Because the man in front of me was Russ Harding, the untouchable crush I'd loved in secret for ten years.

01

In an instant, my heart was pounding like a drum.

Time seemed to have stopped on his face. He looked exactly as he had six years ago when we parted, not a bit changed, if anything even more boyish.

I wanted to ask him why he was here.

I wanted to ask him how he'd turned into this year's top scorer at Capital University.

But the words caught in my throat, and I couldn't get out a single one.

All I could hear was my own heartbeat, louder and louder.

It was the first time Rhys had seen me lose my composure. His pretty, tilted eyes narrowed slightly, moving between my face and Russ's, and then he let out a sudden scoff. "Martha Pruitt, I never took you for that type."

To Rhys, Russ looked shockingly shabby.

A wrinkled plaid shirt, jeans washed pale, hair long enough to fall over his eyes, and those dark, heavy pupils fixed on my face. The whole of him was gloomy and sullen.

He couldn't understand why I'd go blank over someone like that.

He jerked his chin at Russ and gave the order from on high. "Go on. Go show your sugar mama a good time."

Russ didn't move.

He pressed his lips together, fists clenched, as if he'd been dealt some terrible humiliation.

I watched, half in a daze.

Russ had a foul temper. Anyone who crossed him got it back on the spot; there was no way he'd swallow it like this.

Could it be that the man in front of me wasn't Russ.

But how could two people in this world look exactly alike?

While I stood there lost, Rhys ran out of patience.

He folded his arms, walked around behind Russ, and drove his foot into the small of his back.

The kick sent Russ stumbling, nearly to the ground.

Without thinking, I rushed over to catch him, and he fell right into my arms, his face buried against my shoulder, his whole body trembling and unable to stop.

This, I thought, definitely wasn't Russ.

Russ was proud. He'd never once been this fragile.

The heart that had leapt so wildly went cold, and I took the bank card out again and held it out to him.

Before the man in front of me could speak, Rhys laughed first, mocking.

"Martha Pruitt, is there any point playing the chaste, wronged wife this long? Back when you did everything you could to crawl into my bed, weren't you the wildest of them all?"

I was long used to Rhys's vicious tongue. Without so much as a glance at him, I calmly told this man who looked so much like Russ, "There's five hundred thousand in there. Take it and go."

The man across from me let his lashes tremble, then reached out with long, clean-jointed fingers and laid them lightly on the card.

My pupils shrank all at once.