Sweet Punk (Shadow River Elite Book 3), page 1
SWEET PUNK
LEILA JAMES
Sweet Punk © Copyright 2022 by Leila James
All rights reserved.
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This novel is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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CONTENTS
1. Kellan
2. Star
3. Star
4. Kellan
5. Star
6. Kellan
7. Star
8. Kellan
9. Kellan
10. Star
11. Kellan
12. Star
13. Star
14. Kellan
15. Star
16. Star
17. Kellan
18. Star
19. Star
20. Kellan
21. Kellan
22. Star
23. Kellan
24. Kellan
25. Star
26. Kellan
27. Star
28. Kellan
29. Kellan
30. Star
31. Star
32. Kellan
33. Star
Epilogue
Also by Leila James
Dear Reader
Acknowledgments
About the Author
ONE
KELLAN
This girl is leading me on a merry fucking chase. I run faster, trying to keep up with her, my heart pumping hard and my legs a blur. But damn, she’s fast. And how the hell she’s running in a pair of flip-flops like that, I’ll never know. That fire alarm went off, and she hadn’t even stopped to put different shoes on, which I can’t really fault her for because I hadn’t put on a shirt on my way out either. Maybe she didn’t intend to run across campus when she fled Duke Hall, but here we are, doing just that. She makes a sharp left and darts across the quad, heading toward the academic buildings. What the fuck is she doing?
Star St. James is a mystery to me. Ever since she moved into the suite across the hall two months ago, I haven’t known what to make of her funky blue-framed glasses or the pink stripe in her glossy dark hair. Or the fact that she holes up in her room more often than not with her computer. Or the way she sometimes sticks her foot in her mouth with how blunt she is.
As I run behind her, I smirk to myself. I guess I wonder about her because she’s kinda like me with the same level of introversion and distaste for partying or even hanging out with people in general. She gets along well—at least I think she does—with her two suitemates, Lux and Raven. Thinking back, though, I’m unsure if I’ve ever seen her with anyone else, and I do occasionally spot her around campus—especially in the art building. She’s taking some intro to art course, and her class ends at the same time my studio time is over. She’s always alone.
I force myself to move faster, and the second Star senses me behind her, she whirls around, a mask of sheer terror on her face, and thrusts the small can of pepper spray that’s attached to her lanyard and keys out in front of her, aiming it right at me.
“Don’t fucking spray me again.” I come to an abrupt halt about ten feet from her, throwing my hands up to shield my face. Memories of the intense burning sensation from our last unfortunate encounter are still fresh in my mind. That fucking aerosol caused my nose to run like a faucet and had irritated the hell out of my skin. My eyes had practically swelled shut. I don’t want to go there again for anything. That shit hurt like a motherfucker. I shudder involuntarily, reliving the pain all over again.
We stare at each other for several moments, each of us taking the other in. Star’s eyes wander over me from top to bottom, then back again, her breath hitching when her gaze returns to my face. Jesus, I have no idea what’s in her head. Her hand shakes as she finally drops the canister, letting it dangle from her lanyard. Whatever she’s thinking is on the tip of her tongue. Sure enough, a second later, she blurts, “Why the hell are you following me, Kellan?”
I rest my hands on my hips and work my jaw back and forth, assessing her. She’s trembling all over, her face paler than I’ve ever noticed it being before. “Why are you acting so goddamn sketchy lately? That’s why I came after you. You were safe in a crowd of people—it’s just another pulled fire alarm, yet you ran off like the devil was chasing you.”
Her eyes shift down and to the side, and she blinks rapidly before huffing, “I’m not acting sketchy. You’re the one who keeps following me.” She sucks in a breath, her eyes flicking to my chest and wandering over it, tattoo by tattoo, rose by inked-on rose. “Do you ever wear a shirt?” Her cheeks flush pink with her indignant question.
Staring right back at her, my brows draw together. She doesn’t know me well enough for me to begin to answer that loaded question. I ignore it in favor of shooting my own back at her. “Seriously. Why’d you take off like that?” I can’t deny it. I’m completely curious at this point, especially with the way her focus keeps darting around. And I have a habit of studying people, trying to figure out what exactly makes them tick—though most of the time, I observe and hypothesize. There’s so much to be learned by paying attention to nonverbal cues. But with her? I want to know. And I want her to be the one to tell me.
“I don’t like crowds.” She pauses, fidgeting and refusing to meet my eyes. “Or very many people, period.”
A harsh laugh trips out of me before I can stop it. “You’re totally fucking lying.” I surprise myself with how growly my voice sounds. I don’t know what I’m reacting to that she’s putting out there into the universe, but something’s not quite tracking for me.
“Am not. I don’t like crowds. Never have.”
I narrow my eyes on her. She didn’t answer the question. “That’s not why you ran off.”
She covers her face with her hands and speaks through them. “Just drop it, Kellan.”
The plea in her voice stops me cold, the fear I sense in her words hits me square in the chest. I want to know what her deal is, but she’s stubborn. “Fine. I’ll walk with you wherever you’re going.”
She shakes her head, slowly backing away. “No. That’s okay. I— Just let me go, okay?”
The fuck. I exhale sharply. I don’t want this to be a battle of wills, but I also don’t like the idea of her walking around campus by herself at this hour. Scraping my teeth over my bottom lip, I study her. I can tell I’m not getting any further with this tonight. “Fine.” I look down at the ground between us for a few seconds before I meet her eyes again. “Would you text Lux or Raven and let them know where you’re headed? If you can do that, I’ll take off and leave you alone.”
Finally giving in, she doesn’t say a word but nods and pulls her phone out of her pocket. She thumbs it open and quickly taps out a text. I’m no dummy, though, I shoot a text to Hawk at the same time.
Me: Just checking—did Lux or Raven get a text from Star?
She glances up at me, her tone accusatory. “Um, what are you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Ensuring that someone is in contact with you.” I grit my teeth, watching for Hawk’s response.
“Is that seriously necessary? I’m not a child. And I’m not your responsibility.” Her forehead pinches, leaving a crease right down the center.
I can totally tell she’s not amused, but tough shit. “It is.” I wouldn’t feel right if no one else was paying attention, and I left her here alone. My jaw sets as I eye the way she’s beginning to squirm uncomfortably and move from one foot to the other. Not only is our conversation wigging her out, but I bet she’s cold out here, just like I am. A T-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops doesn’t cut it against the late-October cold in Connecticut.
“Whatever,”—she tucks a chunk of her pink-streaked hair behind her ear and jerks her thumb over her shoulder—“I’m going.” She begins to back away while I’m distracted by the incoming texts from Hawk. I glance down, quickly scanning his messages.
Hawk: Yes. Both Lux and Raven got one.
Hawk: WTF is going on?
Me: Your guess is as good as mine.
Before Star can get very far, I grit out, “Hey.” She flinches, but stops in her tracks, her green eyes wide behind her glasses. “Tell me you’re okay, and I’ll back the fuck off.”
I hate the look in her eyes. She turns and walks away without answering me. No. She’s most definitely not okay. Considering my limited but fucked-up experiences with women—well, one woman—I’m sure as hell not the person she needs to help her. But I also don’t know how to turn a blind eye now that I know she’s struggling wi
TWO
STAR
Well, that was awkward. And downright humiliating. Kellan never did say why he followed me tonight, and I wonder if it has anything to do with what happened last week. But no matter the reason, he shouldn’t have done it—being seen with me is the worst thing he could do.
While we stood outside the dorm, waiting for the fire department to give us the all clear, my senses had tingled with an internal alarm blaring louder than Duke Hall’s. I didn’t think it through, I simply knew I couldn’t stand there another minute. Especially not with people I care about huddled around me. If there’s even a slim chance that the shit show that is my former life has followed me here— I squeeze my eyes shut tight. I swear I’d caught a glimpse of a worn leather jacket on someone moving through the crowd.
Could I be overreacting? Absolutely. Do I feel like that’s the case? No.
He turned eighteen in August. I should have prepared myself for this, but I don’t know what I could have done differently. Being at Shadow River University helps. In the back of my head, though, I know without a doubt that if he wants to find me, he will. If this isn’t all in my head, and he’s actually followed me here, I don’t know how I’ll cope, how I’ll lead any sort of normal life.
I walk quickly toward the Bean, glancing over my shoulder every few seconds the entire way there. I started coming here earlier this semester to hang out sometimes while Raven worked. This place is always filled with people, and to me, it feels safe. Not a minute goes by when I’m ever alone, not to mention this particular coffee shop has long hours. It’s open super early so students and professors alike can grab their cup of joe before class, and it stays open later than late for those who choose to bring a laptop and study here. The best part is, no one bothers me when I come in, and all it costs me is a cup of coffee. And to me, coffee in exchange for peace of mind is a no-brainer. Because the dorm? I’m not entirely certain I’m safe there, and that thought chills me to the bone.
On autopilot, I enter the Bean, and the invigorating scent of coffee rolls over me like a great caffeinated wave. Even though it’s Friday night, there are students dotted around the room with their laptops, hammering away at their keyboards. And because it’s Friday night, there are also a lot of couples here, as well, grabbing coffee together. That’s something I wish I could have. But I can’t. There’s no way I can let anyone get too close to me.
Hurrying up to the counter, I place an order for my usual—a mocha—mostly because I can’t resist the hint of chocolate, but also because it’s simple and no one ever messes it up. While I wait for my drink, I turn slightly, resting my hip against the counter as I scan each individual face, looking for any hint of black hair or darker-than-sin eyes, but not seeing anyone who matches that description.
“Here you go.”
I startle at the sound of the deep voice behind me, my heart lodging painfully in my throat as I turn around. The barista nudges my mocha toward me with a curious smile. “You okay?”
I exhale an awkward breath that is part relief, part embarrassment. “Yeah, sorry. I was thinking about something else.” I shoot him a grateful smile, collect my piping-hot coffee, and head for the row of stools over at the front window. Not many people sit over here, and I appreciate the fact that I can see every single person who enters the building before they ever set foot inside.
I live in a constant state of awareness, always on edge. It kinda sucks.
Heaving out a sigh, I sit down on the stool on the far right and blow carefully on my drink before taking a sip. A notification pinging on my phone grabs my attention, but there’s no doubt in my mind that Lux and Raven are wondering what the hell is going on, especially once I texted them that I was coming here instead of heading back to the dorm. With Kellan. Because they have to know he came after me.
Why had he followed me? I chew on my lip as I think about the poor guy I literally pepper sprayed a week ago. I would have thought he’d want zero to do with me after that. But there he was, running halfway across campus. I’m impressed he’d kept up with me. As far as I know, Kellan works out with Maddox and Hawk … but that’s no match for the miles I slog in the mornings before anyone is awake. I’ve got myself trained to be able to run far and fast if the need arises.
Would Kellan have come all the way to the Bean if I hadn’t realized he was behind me? Then what would he have done? Watched me from outside? Come in and pretended like he was in the mood for a coffee, and it’d been nothing but sheer coincidence that the two of us wound up in exactly the same spot?
I take another sip of my coffee, then lick a bit of foam from my upper lip as I stare outside into the dark. Had Kellan told the guys I’d gotten him full in the face with that pepper spray? I swear it’d felt like someone was stalking me. And he was following me back to my dorm—the dorm where we both live. Fuck. I’m such an idiot. And apparently trigger-happy.
I let myself fall headlong into the memory of that day.
My heart races. There’s someone following me. Stalking me. I grip the tiny canister of pepper spray that hangs from my lanyard and turn with the cap flipped up and my finger on the depressor. I’m so startled to see a figure in a dark hoodie and jeans continuing to come at me that I shriek and fire away.
Whoever he is drops hard to his knees, then falls forward, bracing his big body with his hands. He doesn’t make a goddamn noise. Not a yell or a shout or a curse. After what feels like an eternity, he finally manages to grit out, “Star, what the hell?” That small question sends the hooded figure into a coughing fit.
My name. He knows my name. And holy shit. I recognize the voice. Realization dawns on me. “Oh my God. Kellan, is that you?”
He raises his head, blinking hard and gasping for breath.
Oh, shit. I pepper sprayed someone who … well, I think I consider him a friend. Shit. I squat down next to him, gently tugging the hoodie off his head. “I’m sorry. I thought—”
He shakes his head and holds up a hand.
My teeth clamp down hard on my lower lip. My chest tightens. What should I do? Out of desperation, I scramble to pull my phone from my pocket. I quickly search for a remedy on Google and see that we need to flush his eyes and the surrounding skin with lots of cool water. I glance at the canister that I always carry around with me. Apparently, this shit is oil-based and not easy to get off. And sort of like poison ivy, we want to keep it from spreading around if we can help it. I can’t believe I did this to him.
“Kellan, we need to get back to the dorm to rinse this off. Flush it out of your eyes. And whatever you do, don’t touch or rub them. It’ll only make it worse. So says Google.” I huff out a breath and give him a tight smile that I’m unsure he can even see because, holy fucking shit, I’ve practically blinded him. “Do you think you can get up?”
He nods, still not speaking. I haven’t a clue if he’s not talking because he’s in too much pain, if he’s unable, or if he’s simply pissed at me. I cringe. I hope it’s not the latter. Not that I want him to be in so much pain that he physically can’t speak. I grasp his bicep, helping him balance as he stands up.
Continuing to blink rapidly, he points in the direction of the dorms, which I take as a signal that he’s ready to walk. I duck under his arm and slip mine around his back. His big hand clasps my shoulder and squeezes. I guide him to the dorm as quickly as possible, getting the odd look or ten from other students who pass by. I ignore them and forge forward.
