Chapter 1
The iron gates of Swellview Elite University loomed like prison bars in the rear view mirror, but for Henry Hart, they were just another barrier he’d learned to cross. He leaned against the side of his beat-up Chevelle, the engine still ticking as it cooled in the damp night air. He lit a cigarette, the orange cherry the only bright spot in the shadowy alley he’d claimed as his waiting spot.
He checked his watch again with a frown, the latent part of his brain ridiculing him for having no patience and practically chomping at the bit for even a glance....11:05 PM.
His friends back in the neighborhood called him an idiot. “Why are you still chasing that rich bitch, Hart?” Jasper had asked with a heavy sigh just yesterday, shaking his head in disappointment. “Look Bro, she’s slumming it. Eventually, she’s gonna wake up and realize she belongs in a boardroom, not on a stained mattress. Or mommy and daddy learn about you and make her put an end to it.”
As far as he was concerned, Jasper and every other douche that had something negative to say could go fuck. He didn’t need them reminding him that he and her were from two different worlds. It wasn’t like he could forget it.
But they didn’t know her. They saw the money, the hair that were always perfectly styled, the high end wardrobe, the polished veneer of the “golden girl.” They didn’t know about the empty mansion or the parents who treated her like a stock option rather than a daughter, or the fire that burned beneath that pristine exterior.
“Come on, Charlie.” He whispered looking at his watch again. He didn’t come to this side of town for anything other than her. He wouldn’t even visit the grocery store on this side of town, the prices way too high and unexplained. Who the fuck pays 5 dollars for a single lemon?! He stuck out around here like a sore thumb; baggie hoodie and jeans with grease stains and a paint splotch on the ass and some chuck taylor’s that had seen better days and tattoos galore.
He watched as a shadow detached itself from the campus wall, causing him to straighten and flick the cigarette away.
Charlotte.
She moved with a quick, silent grace, a long trench coat pulled tight over her slight frame, bulging tote bag slung over her shoulder. As soon as she saw him, her posture changed. The rigid, perfect student vanished, replaced by the woman he was crazy about, a bright smile splitting her pretty face in half.
“You’re late,” he murmured as she reached him, though his voice lacked any real bite.
“Hannah wouldn’t go to sleep,” she said breathless, her dark eyes shining. “She asks too many questions.”
She didn’t wait for him to open the door just as eager as him to get their time started together. She grabbed the lapels of his denim jacket and yanked him down, her lips crashing against his. It wasn’t a sweet, greeting kiss, moreso than it was a claim. She tasted like peppermint and expensive coffee, a sharp contrast to his own rough edges. Henry groaned low in his throat, his hands finding her waist, gripping her tightly as if to anchor himself.
“Get in,” he growled against her mouth. “Before I bend you over the hood of this car and get arrested for public indecency.”
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The drive back to his place was charged with electricity. Charlotte’s hand rested on his thigh, her thumb tracing the denim, burning a hole straight through to his skin, chattering on about midterms. For her part, she went through the same amount of scrutiny that he did. Her friends—the ones who wrinkled their noses at his zip code, acted as if they were so scandalized. “He’s a thug, Char. Why do you deal with him?”
She tried to explain a few times before, but they never understood and eventually she stopped caring. She loved being with Henry for a ton of reasons, one of the main being that he was the only thing in her life that felt real. The only thing that she could say she chose for herself. When she was with Henry, the obligations and expectations that everyone else had for the daughter of George and Shannon Page faded into nothing. She could just be....her.
When they reached his apartment building, a walk-up in the gritty part of Swellview, the pretense evaporated completely. Henry unlocked the door, but before he could even flip the switch, Charlotte was moving.
She shoved him back playfully, causing Henry to hit the wall with a dull thud, the breath leaving him in a surprised laugh that was cut short as Charlotte pressed her body flush against his, her seductive eyes flashing dangerously. The streetlights filtering through the blinds cast stripes of shadow and light across her face, ethereal. Beautiful.
“Stick out your tongue,” she commanded, her voice dropping an octave, sultry and demanding.
Henry blinked, surprised by the aggression, but he obeyed instantly. He was past the point of pretending he wouldn’t do anything she asked. As soon as he did, she leaned in, sucking his tongue into her mouth with a moan. It was a wet, messy tangle of heat; a kiss that wasn’t about romance but about hunger. As their tongues tangled, their hands were not idle, Henry’s gliding down her body to grab handfuls of her supple ass, pulling moan after moan from the diminutive beauty.
Her hand slid down his chest, past the buckle of his belt, and slid between the barrier of skin and boxer brief, grabbing a handful of Henry. “I missed you,” she whispered, her breath warm against his lips. “I missed this. Being here with you. Being with you.....”
“Charlie,” Henry breathed, the nickname slipping out, a soft plea wrapped in gravel. He caught her face in his hands, breaking the kiss just to look at her. Her pupils were blown wide, swallowing the iris. “You have no idea what you do to me...”
He didn’t let her talk, scooping her up and smiling when her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist and palmed her ass as he carried her toward the bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind them, an old habit ingrained from having roommates at one point, the world outside ceasing to exist.
He laid her down on the bed, well aware that the mattress wasn’t much, but in his mind, it was theirs. He hovered over her, his blonde hair falling into his eyes, looking at her like she was the only precious thing he’d ever held.
“You look...” Henry struggled for the words, his tough-guy facade crumbling under the weight of his adoration. “You look incredible. All flushed and eager for me.”
He leaned down, ghosting his lips over her jawline and down the column of her neck, feeling her pulse hammer against his lips. “And you are eager for me, aren’t you Charlie girl?” He asked, trailing his tongue over the cleavage displayed from her top, grinning when she nodded wordlessly, squirming under him. “I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else, Charlie,” he murmured into her skin, his voice thick with unspoken emotion. “I’m gonna make sure you never want to leave this room.”
“Prove it, Hart.” Charlotte challenged, her voice shaky, arching her back as his hands began to roam, claiming every inch of her.
The weekend stretched out before them, a hidden pocket of time where titles, bank accounts, and absent parents didn’t matter. There was only the heat of the room, the desperate friction of skin on skin, and the terrifying, unspoken truth that hung in the air between them; that this was no longer just a fling. It was everything.
This weekend was a first for them. Normally, she had to sneak back to her dorm or her parent’s mansion (when they were in the country) before dawn. She had only seen Henry’s shit hole of an apartment when it was dark and he was fine with that, not wanting to do anything that would pop the bubble of wonder she was clearly in when it came to him. But they had an entire weekend this time, and he was both nervous and excited.
" Tell me you missed me,” Henry whispered, his voice dropping an octave as his hands roamed the length of her body, mapping every curve he had memorized in the dark.
“Every second,” she gasped, arching into his touch as his calloused fingers grazed the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.
The intimacy that followed was a fever dream. It wasn’t gentle; it was a frantic, consuming need to bridge the gap between their two worlds. Henry worshiped her with a terrifying intensity. He kissed the hollow of her throat, the slope of her shoulder, murmuring a stream of praise and filth against her skin that made her unravel.
“You like that, Charlie?” he growled, his movement snapping with a rhythm that stole her breath. “You like sneaking out to get dirty with me?”
“Yes,” she cried out, her fingers digging into his shoulders, anchoring herself as the world spun. “Henry, please...”
He was relentless, driving them both toward the edge with a focused, agonizingly slow pace that bordered on torture. The room was filled with the sound of their ragged breathing and the friction of skin on skin. The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of his musk and her floral perfume.
Henry looked down at her, his hair falling into his eyes, watching the way she came undone beneath him. He saw the vulnerability she hid from the world, the raw passion that only he got to witness. His chest tightened with a pain that had nothing to do with the physical.
I love you. The words sat on his tongue, heavy and terrifying.
He thought about his empty bank account. He thought about her future, bright and blinding, and his own, which felt like a dead end. Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through the heat of the moment. He couldn’t say it. If he said it, it made it real, and if it was real, he could lose her.
Instead of speaking the truth, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, biting down gently on the soft skin there, letting his actions scream what his voice couldn’t.
“You’re mine,” he whispered hoarsely, the possession thick in his voice as the wave of pleasure finally crashed over them, leaving them trembling and tangled in the sheets. “Just mine.”
Charlotte held him tight, her heart hammering against his, waiting for the words he wouldn’t say, but holding onto him just the same.
