Our Secret: A College Bully Romance (Golden Crew Book 1) Read online

  However, and we do know this comes with short notice, we do need to inform all freshmen how particularly important orientation is, so that you do not become lost, and inadvertently end up late for classes during the coming school year.

  Also, orientation times have changed. Due to the budding growth this semester, we need to split orientation up into two groups. Group A and Group B. Business and ethics majors will be Group A, and creative majors will be Group B.

  Your orientation time is as follows: August 12, 2015, 1:45 PM. Don’t be late!

  Go Eagles!

  Catherine Stanton

  Financial Aid Manager

  Email: [email protected]

  Phone: 1-706-414-2465

  I glance from the email to the Fitbit on my wrist, mouth falling in disbelief. “That’s only 5 minutes from now!” The auditorium is halfway across campus!

  Thankfully, since I grew up here, I already know where the auditorium is. We had many a school trip here, whether it be for business ethics or for plays and such. While I don’t necessarily need the orientation, I don’t want to start this school experience off wrong.

  Pressing the lock button in my car, I hotfoot it toward Pickrell Auditorium. There’s no time to take in the scenery since the place I need to be is on the other side of campus, so I put my head down and get there as fast as possible. My feet pound the pavement, sweat from the Georgia sun slides down the side of my face from my brow. But within just a few minutes, I’m where I need to be, huffing and puffing.

  “Damn, I need to exercise more,” I say, swallowing hard and resting my hands on my knees to catch my breath.

  Taking a moment to collect myself, I take one final, deep, cleansing breath before climbing the stone stairs, passing the thick, cement columns, and heading inside through the open door. Flies will be buzzing before long if they keep those doors open. It’s summer in Georgia, not winter. Flies are the worst enemy, especially the ones that bite you.

  As soon as I enter the fray, I’m amazed at all the life I see. It’s buzzing, loud and abrasive to my eardrums. But secretly, I love it—the life, and what it symbolizes. All the people going to and fro, making a choice to put their education first. It’s sublime to see like-minded individuals.

  I smile. My gaze doesn’t quite search the crowd but skims over it. Faces don’t stand out to me, which is a good thing. It means no one will know who I am unless they have family that lives in this town that spreads shit like wildfire. Even then, unless they’ve seen me before, if I don’t say my name, no one will know I was the girl left pregnant and alone sophomore year.

  They won’t know I’m the girl who lost everything, while the prince of the town gained everything he ever wanted.

  Pushing my bitterness to the side, I make my way toward a row to sit down. They looked uncomfortable, all plastic and no cushion and painted in the school colors, red, black, and silver, but I couldn’t care less.

  I’m in college. I’m doing something no one thought I’d be able to because I’m a single mom. Fuck that stereotype. I’ve always done me, and since me includes Maverick, I’ll run myself into the ground to make his life perfect.

  Just as I get to a row of seats, a leg shoots out in front of me, stopping my advance. Slanting my eyebrows, I peer down at the leg and then up into the eyes of the guy keeping me from sitting down. He leers at me, eyes raking me from top to bottom as he licks his lips suggestively.

  Great. One of those guys.

  I cross my arms, shunting my hip to the side. The very same hips that spread due to my pregnancy. Shit, everything spread. I’m no longer the slim bean I was in high school. I’m now curvy, with a little pudge of a stomach I hide with my jeans. Motherhood suits me if this guy’s expression has anything to say about it.

  “Um, do you mind?”

  “Not at all, marshmallow,” he replies, giving me a lazy once-over. “Question. Are you as soft on the inside as you look from the outside?”

  Disgust slides over my features. “You have no class at all, do you?”

  “If you were the teacher, I’d never miss a lecture.” He smirks.

  Do punks actually think pickup lines like that work?

  “Just let me through.”

  Not even at the campus for thirty minutes, and someone is already propositioning me. Terrific. Just what I wanted. Not like I need to focus on my degree or anything.

  He ignores me, even going so far as to lean forward and block my destination with his whole body. “Name’s Easton. What’s yours?”

  I eye him. “Not interested.”

  His eyes flick between mine, and something he must see there has his lips spreading into a predatory smile. It’s not a bad look at all, even on an asshole like Easton. Especially with a cut jawline, intense eyes, and the wide-set, muscular body he seems to be hiding under his clothes.

  Sue me for looking, but even I’m not completely turned off by guys. I just never had the time before to appreciate how they look. Being a single mom and all, I had more important things to worry about.

  I bite my tongue to keep from smarting off. But another voice jumps into the fray, stopping me in my tracks, like a deer caught in headlights.

  “Fuck, man. Leave the girl alone with your corny shit.” The voice is deeper and gravellier than what it used to be, but I’d recognize it all the same.

  Please, God, no! I yell inside my head.

  In slow motion, I tilt my head up to make sure I’m not hearing things. Sure enough, there he is in all his brooding glory—my bastard of an ex.

  Maverick’s dad.

  Hunter fucking Prince.

  “You,” I seethe, narrowing my eyes.

  I hadn’t seen this asshole since Christmas Eve my sophomore year in high school when he broke my goddamn heart and left me in the ditch of my own misery. He looks the same, except taller, buffer, and now there’s an aura of menace surrounding him.

  Everyone looks between us as we stare the other down. Tense silence expands, nearly suffocating me.

  Since he isn’t acting like a douche, which was his go-to setting when we last saw each other, I assume he no longer recognizes me. Of course, he wouldn’t. I no longer look like the girl he knew in high school. I no longer look like the version of myself he promised the world to.

  “He’s not supposed to be here,” I mumble under my breath, shooting daggers his way.

  Someone lied to my dad, that’s for sure.

  Hunter brings his eyes to mine after ribbing his friend. Something in my voice must have let on that I’m familiar with him. Or it could have been the blunt way I scalded him with my sneering words. Either way, I notice the moment he starts analyzing me, trying to figure it out.

  They’re so much alike, I almost forgot.

  I can feel his eyes trail across my fuller face, chest, stomach, and thighs, like burning embers on the end of a campfire log. His gaze eats me up entirely before traveling upward and settling on my eyes once more. For a split second, intense lust burns in his gaze, causing his ice-blue eye to brighten.

  “Do I know you?” Due to the gritting hesitance in his voice, I’d say he’s already well on his way to putting it together, he just wants me to confirm it. I may have changed, but not that freaking much.

  Well, fuck that. I’m not going to make anything easy for him. Not like he’s done that for me any since our sophomore year.

  Someone moves beside him, capturing my attention. I regret the moment I allow my gaze to flick to his right. Ash fills my mouth from the simmering anger burning in my gut. Heat flashes overwhelm me, even as goosebumps pebble along my arms.

  It’s Cassandra Radcliff, and she’s about two seconds from jumping into Hunter’s lap. How typical. Dumb jock fucking the coked-out whore of a cheerleader. They’re every stereotype made a reality.

  She sneers my way, clearly not remembering me, either. “Get a good look, bitch?”

  I can’t help it. A huff of a laugh falls from me as I meet Hunter’s eyes again. Gone are the lust a
nd fire, and in their place is icy hatred.

  It seems the slow jock finally figured it out.

  “Think really hard, Hunter Prince. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be able to push aside that inflated ego of yours long enough to figure it out.”

  Without a second thought, I turn around and stalk toward the hallway. Orientation will just have to suck it because I refuse to be in the same room as that prick. He’s not even supposed to be in Golden Oaks. A very, very reputable source told my dad he was on his way to California to attend UCLA.

  How can wires get crossed so destructively? If he’s attending GOU, then shit just got a lot deeper than before.

  Hunter Prince gave me everything, then took it all away at the drop of a hat. All because of that whore slinking into his arms. And he didn’t even have the balls to apologize. Instead, whatever happened to make him throw me away like trash, he now holds it against me. Just remembering that night causes my chest to tighten in pain.

  CHAPTER 2

  Christmas Eve, Sophomore Year …

  My eyes widen on the stick. Pure disbelief rambles through my entire body. We were always so careful, so protected. How could something like this happen? Hunter is going to kill me, I think to myself, placing a protective hand over my stomach. Tears slide down my cheeks and drip off my chin as I watch the two lines getting darker by the second, blatantly staring me in the face.

  Two blue lines.

  “I’m pregnant,” I gasp, choking up.

  There’s no doubt about it now. Sure, I pushed aside the tenderness in my breasts and roaring nausea—that’s what happens anyway when I have my period. But when my period never showed, and my symptoms kept getting worse and worse, I knew something was up.

  Bang, bang, bang.

  Someone beating on the door makes me jump and throw the test across the bathroom. It slams into the shower wall, where the water is still running. Had to make it inconsequential that I’ve been in here for the past fifteen minutes, and the shower idea came to me like an epiphany.

  “Lo, time for dinner!” Duncan calls out from the other side.

  At two years older than me, he was a senior in Golden Oaks High. Popular. Handsome. Nerd. He was every girl’s wet dream and every guy’s nightmare, except for the Golden Crew, which he’s a part of. He, along with Leo Sutton, and the three Prince siblings—Owen, Emerson, and Hunter.

  Hunter, my boyfriend, was due to become the next leader when Owen graduated this year. I bite my lips in worry.

  If Duncan finds out about this before Hunter, all hell will break loose. What am I going to do?

  Another bang on the door startles me. “Are you coming or not?”

  “I’ll be down in a minute!” I call out nervously.

  When I don’t get a response, I release the breath I was holding and race over to the test on the floor, picking it up. I dust it off like it’s the most precious thing in the world. In a way, it is. This is proof there’s a tiny person growing inside me. And with that realization flooding my system, I find the fear creeping up on me, churning my stomach.

  Sickness roars through me. Barely making it to the toilet, I fall onto my knees and release the contents of my stomach into the bowl. My nose burns from the acid, and perspiration gathers along my body, sticking my clothes to my skin.

  After I’m finished, I flush the toilet and sit on my butt with my back to the wall. Pulling my legs into myself, I wrap my arms around them and put my face in my knees and weep.

  I’m only fifteen. Getting pregnant right now is not what I—we—had planned. Hunter and I were supposed to go to UCLA together when we graduated high school. We were supposed to get business degrees, and I would start my PR business while he takes over a third of his dad’s company.

  Our future was set in stone, and now, everything is falling apart.

  We were so careful, though. I was taking my birth control, and he was wearing condoms. We were never unprotected. So, how can this be? We took so many precautions to prevent this.

  I cry softly into my knees for some time, until another knock on my door alerts me.

  “Harloe?” My mom’s voice filters through the door, making me cry harder.

  “Mom,” I sniffle and sob so hard that a few moments later, I see the knob moving and her pale face illuminated by the bathroom light as she peeks into the room.

  True, unadulterated fear crosses her face, and she’s racing toward me before I have a chance to say anything. She falls to her knees and gathers me into her arms, rocking me back and forth like I’ll do soon for the baby in my stomach.

  “What’s wrong, baby girl?” she coos, softly rubbing the hair back away from my sweaty forehead.

  I say nothing, merely hold out the stick for her to see. I can tell the moment she gets a good look because her entire body stops moving, and she goes as still as a statue. Her arms tighten around me on reflex.

  But then, something far worse happens. My mom’s body starts to shake. Softly at first, but then it becomes more pronounced the longer she holds me.

  She’s crying.

  “Mom, I’m so sorry!” I howl in pain, sobbing even harder as I clutch at her arms out of fear she’ll let go.

  “Wha…Wh…How did this happen, honey?” she inquires, pulling away from me to stare into my miserable eyes.

  My bottom lip trembles. “I don’t know. We were always so safe.”

  She continues to stare at me for several minutes, eyes searching mine so deeply I fight not to flinch. My mom has always been able to see to the very core inside me, regardless of if I could lie with the best of them. No matter. She could always tell when I was lying.

  This time, I’m not, and by her softening face, I know she realizes that.

  I know it’s a tough pill to swallow, knowing your baby is sexually active. If it hadn’t been for loving the guy I did it with, I’d probably still be a virgin. But it just felt right to be with him.

  No matter what people say about kids not knowing a thing about love, I do. Hunter and I both do. We’re each other’s soulmate, and the choice to lose my virginity to him was simple. He’s always going to be mine.

  Out of nowhere, my mom does something uncharacteristic. She leans away and slaps herself in the forehead like she’s ignorant to have missed something like this. Her eyes meet mine, and I know she’s put something together in her head.

  “You were sick right before Thanksgiving, remember?” she asks. I nod. “You took a round of antibiotics. Gosh, I’m so stupid.”

  My eyebrows draw inward in confusion. “Why is that important?”

  She regards me softly, pushing a tuft of hair behind my ear. “Antibiotics can mess with birth control, baby girl. I’m sorry for not telling you.”

  That’s all she says. There’s no anger, yelling, spanking for doing something as major as becoming pregnant months before turning sixteen. Instead, she’s calm, caring, collective.

  My eyes widen. “You’re not mad?”

  She chuckles and nods. “Oh, I’m livid.”

  “Then why aren’t you more … I don’t know. Upset?” I cock my head to the side, staring her up and down.

  Slowly, my mom sits down on the floor in front of me, gathering my hands into hers. Her thumb rubs over the tops of my hands, and then she leans over and gives them a soft peck. I sniff but otherwise remain silent, waiting for her to say something.

  “Darling,” she says around a huff. “Your dad and I knew you and that boy were having sex.” Her eyes meet mine, features softening even more. “That’s why for your fifteenth birthday, I took you to get you birth control. Idiot me told you it was to regulate your periods.”

  “It wasn’t?”

  She shakes her head. “No. Not really. It was because we saw how close you and Hunter were becoming. We knew we needed to do something. So, I took you and got you examined and started on birth control. Your dad and I knew that regardless of what we thought, you and that boy would be together if you wanted to be. I just never thought to—well, I
didn’t know how to explain the importance of always playing it safe without embarrassing you.”

  Guilt claws at my throat. I can’t even bring myself to say I’d have told her, because I didn’t and never wanted to. She’s right. Something like that would have embarrassed me to high heaven.

  “I promise we were always safe, Mom. I don’t know how this happened,” I swallow hard, trying to push the nausea down.

  “Sweetheart, I know. I hate it, but I know. Antibiotics neutralize birth control, so it’s not only on you, it’s on me, too. But—”

  My mom stops, looking ashamed for her train of thought. I sit in silence, watching her play through the scenario that’s no doubt going through her mind. A new feeling rears its ugly head and begins to bloom in place of the nausea.

  Terror.

  “Mom,” I say hesitantly. “What’s wrong?”

  Her eyes finally rise to mine, anguish swirling within her emerald green depths. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but … you can’t keep this baby.”

  “What are you trying to say?” I jerk back like she slapped me in the face. Essentially, she has.

  I may be fifteen, but I’ll be sixteen by the time it gets here. That’s plenty old enough to take care of a baby.

  May not be the future Hunter or I planned for ourselves, but—out of everything else going on—I find that it’s a future I want. A future with a baby in my arms and Hunter’s lips against my temple as he stares down with pride at his child.

  A future with brightness, laughter, and unending joy.

  “I’m trying to say that maybe we should have it taken care of.”

  I shuffle away from her as quickly as I can, jumping to my feet. “An abortion?”

  “Raising a baby isn’t as easy you think, Harloe,” she scolds, climbing to her feet as well and dusting off her butt. “A baby takes hard work, discipline. Giving up things that no sixteen-year-old should have to give up.”

  Crossing my arms over my midsection, I try to ward off the hurt her words bring. I know what she’s trying to say. It’s not that this baby isn’t a blessing. She just doesn’t believe I’m competent and responsible enough to put another living being before me.