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//-->Forbidden Men SeriesPrice of a KissTo Professor with LoveBe My HeroWith Every HeartbeatA Perfect TenGranton University SeriesFighting FateLoving LiesAddicted to AnsleyThe Right to Remain MineDelinquent DaddyHow to Resist Prince CharmingThe Color of GraceKiss it BetterA Man for MiaHot CommodityA Fallow HeartThe Stillburrow CrushThe Trouble with TomboysThe Best MistakeI’m dedicating this story to Ada Frost, awesome friend, amazing critique partner,personal hero and one of my favorite authors! She’s the first person to claim one of mybook heroes as her own and threaten to cut a bitch for looking at him wrong. So for thesafety all you other readers out there, be careful what you say when making any claimsabout Quinn. I’m telling you this woman will get stabby for her book boyfriends. Shewanted me to write a shy hero and shy heroine, and what my Ada wants, my Ada gets!So, this one’s for you, Ada. Thank you for your friendship. Thank you for your advice.Thank you for your support. Thank you for being you. Love your heart!The party was completely out of control. Thumping loud music, alcohol in every hand,topless girls in the hot tub outside, and more of them booty-grinding on the coffee tableindoors. If I’d been wearing pearls, I would’ve clutched those bad boys for dear life as Istood in the doorway, gaping at the sight before me.This was my first college kegger...and on Shark Week, no less. I couldn’t believe Corawanted me to meet herhere.“Out of the way!” a voice bellowed behind me. “Coming through.”I turned just in time to see a silver keg barreling directly for me. With a squeak, I doveto the side and fully into the frat house, barely saving my piggies hanging out the front ofmy sandals from being smashed. The pair of drunk guys pushing the beer inside on adolly leered at me, offering me a drink if I agreed to flash them. I respectfully declined,and they shrugged, moving on and disappearing into the rowdy horde.Clutching my imaginary pearls, I gulped heavily. What the heck was I doing? Afterliving eighteen years under the strict dictatorship of my father, I’d never seen anyonedrinking spirits before, much less getting wasted from them, as pretty much everyonearound me was. Heck, we even took grape juice during Communion at the church weattended because wine was forbidden in my little world.I was so out of my element; I wanted to run and hide. But I didn’t have anywhere torunto.Arriving three days early, I was literally locked out of my new apartment until Ifound my roommate.After I’d called her from the track phone she’d sent me and told her I was in town,Cora had instructed me to meet her at this address. And I was sure it was this address; I’ddouble, triple and quadruple checked.I’d texted her from outside moments ago, telling her I was here, hoping she’d comeout to me, but all she’d replied was:Come on in. I’m in the back.The back. She might as well have told me to meet her at the end of a dark, creepy alleyof a ghetto where homeless bums were scurrying through trash and thugs were dealingdrugs, and oh, Holy Hosanna, was that guy smoking a joint? I didn’t know the differencebetween a real cigarette and...well, whatever that thin, short thing was hanging out of hismouth, but it certainly didn’t smell like regular nicotine tobacco wafting my way.
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