Chapter 1
Shawna
Even though our lips haven’t touched yet, this is exactly how I imagined my first kiss with Ryker McMills would go and believe me when I say that I have fantasized about this moment, probably more than what is considered healthy, I’m sure. But that doesn’t make this any less amazing. There’s Christmas music playing and twinkling lights all around us. We’re standing under mistletoe at my cousin’s high school house party, making this my one night to finally get kissed by the most beautiful boyever.My crush since kindergarten. It’s so epic that they’ll probably even print it in the school’s newspaper: “Christmas Miracle: Ryker McMills Kisses Shawna Dukes.”
Ryker is the type of person that when he walks into a room, everyone falls silent, in awe of his beauty and charisma. He’s the town’s golden boy; it’s star athlete. He put our small-town school on the map in football, baseball,andsoccer. For that reason alone, everyone wants a piece of him; there’s a school full of faculty and students vying for his attention, so it makes sense that he’s never spoken to me.
But luck is on my side tonight. My cousin Cameron needs my help again and because she’s part of the same ‘it’ circle as Ryker, I’m not past using blackmail to get what I want. Because even though Cameron would rather die than invite Zoey, my only friend, and I to her party, she needs me to distract my parents, who are in charge of her since her parents are out of town, to get away with throwing a party behind her parents’ back. Does it bother me that I had to resort to coercion to get said invite? Hell no. I’d do just about anything to get a chance to kiss Ryker McMills.
As soon as Ryker began walking toward the open doorway where the mistletoe hung, Zoey pushed me in front of him. And now we’re standing side by side underneath the sign of love and friendship in Norse mythology as everyone else in the room begins to fade from my vision and my eyes zero in on his twinkling blue eyes.
“Looks like we both ended up under the mistletoe.” The right side of his lips quirk up as he leans toward me, and even though my palms are sweating and I’m not sure what to do with my hands, our lips touch. I immediately taste beer, which is gross, but his lips are soft and gentle. It’s like a freaking Hallmark movie, minus the underage drinking. That is until I feel two arms knock all the wind out of my body, as I’m soaring through the room and landing on a hard surface.
“Did you seriously just kiss my boyfriend, loser?”
I’m pretty sure I pee myself a little as I stare into the glassy eyes of his psycho, who I thought was his ex-girlfriend, Allison Taylor.
“You just tackled me like a damn linebacker,” I wheeze out as she straddles me.
“Who the fuck even invited you to this party?” My back hurts like hell, but that’s nothing compared to the pain of seeing my cousin, Cameron, standing off to the side watching everything but doingnothing.I look over to Ryker, whose embrace I was just ripped from, and he’s laughing. In fact, everyone is laughing. Allison stands up and walks over to a few of the football players, and I watch in horror as two of the muscular guys grab the punch bowl and walk over to me. Defensively, I hold my hands up, but it’s useless.
Cold, sticky punch spills down my body. Orange slices plop on the top of my head and slide down my face before falling to the floor. The room erupts in even more laughter, and I can’tbelieve how badly things turned out just because I wanted to be kissed by the hottest guy at the party.
With a shriek, I stand up to run away, but slip on the wet floor and faceplant.Could this get any more humiliating?
“I can’t believe you kissed that? Really Ryker? You kissed Shawna DUKEY? What the fuck were you thinking?”
I guess itcanget more humiliating.Bringing up the degrading nickname they used to call me in elementary has now made this moment absolutely mortifying. I was never Shawna Dukes, but ShawnaDukey.Ryker snickers. “One, we’re broken up. Two, tis’ the season of giving. I bring good cheer to all those in need. Look at her, she needed it.”
I was a pity kiss. Worse, he just announced it to the entire room. A firm hand painfully grips my arm and hoists me up. At first I think Cameron’s going to throw me out.My own cousin kicking me out, I’ll never recover from the public humiliation.But instead, she leads me out of the room and up the staircase. The entire way up, people snicker as we pass. She continues to drag me down the hall and into her room. “Get yourself cleaned up.” She points to her private bathroom.
“Cameron,” I hiccup. “I can’t go back out there.”
“If you don’t face them tonight, then you’ll never be able to show your face at school.”
“What do you care?” I narrow my eyes at her. “You didn’t even stop yourfriendfrom attacking me.”
Cameron crosses her arms. I admire her tall and fit body. Our mothers are sisters, and both are gorgeous women. Cameron’s mom married for money, but luckily, she got her mother’s looks. The only thing she inherited from her father was his last name and bank account, which worked out extremely well in her favor. We’re not nearly as well-off as Cameron’s parents, but we hold a solid upper middle class standing. My mother married her high school sweetheart, which gave methe illusion that I’d find my true love in high school as well, but I haven’t even had a boyfriend. Alas, I ended up favoring my father, who I’m named after, Shawn. Not that he isn’t a handsome man, but he wouldn’t make for a pretty woman. I’m short, lanky, with mousy straight brown hair, and while the other women in my family have dazzling blue eyes, I have brown ones, which makes the nicknameDukeyeven more fitting.
“I care because you’re still my cousin. I won’t stand by and let you cower. You had the guts to push your way into this party, do it again. Clean yourself up.” She looks me up and down, then turns on her heels. As she walks out of the room, I hear her mumble, “I’ve got to go find someone to clean up the mess in the kitchen.”
She’ll probably make one of the twenty guys who follow her around like lovesick puppies do it. I walk over and lock the bedroom door. When I enter the bathroom, I cringe at my reflection. Red punch stains cover my face and white blouse. I’m a mess. A horrible hot and sticky mess.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
My heart freezes and I stare at the door, willing the knocking to cease.
Bang. Bang.
I slowly walk out of the bathroom toward the bedroom door, watching as the knob rattles, and then the lock turns. The door creaks open and reveals Zane Burrell, the last person I expected to walk into Cameron’s bedroom.What the fuck is he doing here?As in here in this house. If it seems absurd for me to be here, even with this being my cousin’s house, it’s absolutely mind-boggling for Zane Burrell to be seen at one of these parties. Unless, he’s here on business. Or to rob the place. Maybe he’s here to murder everyone?
Zane isn’t with the in-crowd either, but he isn’t invisible like myself. That boy couldn’t be invisible if he tried; he’s in aleague all of his own and he sticks out like a sore thumb in our small town. Nobody knows his history or his family, only that he popped up at the beginning of junior year and quickly made a reputation for himself as dangerous and not to be messed with. Mostly, I think it’s his silence that alarms people. He wears a variety of black shirts and dark denim jeans year-round. I’ve only seen him wear two types of leather jackets; he has a warm weather leather jacket and a winter leather jacket with a hood. He wears either black combat boots or black Chucks. Most noticeably about him, other than his odd sense of fashion within our small town, he wears his black hair touching his shoulders. I hate that while my hair is straight as a board, his is loose natural curls. He’s thin but not lanky like me. The coaches leapt on him to play basketball as soon as they saw him, but he shot them down with a hard glare. And let me tell you, he can glare. Kind of like he is doing now dressed in all black. Those thick black eyebrows and dark eyes make him appear menacing as he towers in the doorway. Not sure why he is glaring at me, considering he just picked the lock and let himself in.
“Someone’s occupying this room.” I cross my arms and try to mimic the stance Cameron gave me earlier.
He closes the door, locking usbothinside…together.I debate if I should scream. I mean, nobody knowsanythingabout Zane – other than the fact we all think he might be a psychopath. He doesn’t talk, he has no friends, and he is literally always dressed in black, giving off stabby vibes.
“What are you doing?” I’m proud of myself for keeping my voice calm.
