Each day, after class, I would become one with the herd of students and bolt from class. One day, during a particularly speedy retreat I ran straight into a man. He was unaffected by the mass of my body colliding with his, but in the most cliché way possible, my books went flying across the floor.

He had a wicked, but charming smile as he bent down to help me assemble my pile of books. When the job was done, and all my textbooks were assembled in a transportable stack, he looked deep into my eyes and extended his hand.

“I’m Brick,” he said.

I smiled like a damn idiotic fool. “I—I’m Apple.” I reached forward expecting a handshake, but instead he pulled me to my feet like a true gentlemen.

“Has anybody ever told you that you’re beautiful?”

“Sure,” I said with an uneven shrug.

“Good for them.” He nodded, never letting his gaze wander away from mine. “Do you want to get coffee or something?”

I knew better. I really did. There’s no way I could have went through what I did with Mason and not have learned my lesson. But the thing about lessons, especially the ones you learn in high school, is that with time and age, they all begin to fade away.

I was blinded by his hospitality. I was blinded by his promising eyes. I was blinded in the way he made promises without uttering anything that resembled the word.

There was a table between us, stacked with coffee and textbooks.

He had a suaveness to him, like he didn’t have a care in the world. It was an admirable quality, and one that I was jealous of. My life was full of worry. Between the anxiety of exams, and the anxiety of always wondering if the guy beside me was secretly judging me, I was always on edge.

I wasn’t on edge with him. I should have known better. I guess I did. It didn’t matter, though, because Brick was more than some random stranger. He was a thing of wonder, so full of something I couldn’t describe or succinctly put into words.

He had to feel the same way about me, as well. Otherwise, I would have been nothing more than one of his victims scribbled away in a long-kept journal.

“Can I be honest?” he asked with a furrowed brow, the kind of inquisition that seemed to come from the heart. He didn’t wait for me to respond. “I’m not a good guy.”

“Sure you are,” I said in the most naïve of tones. I was enamored and beholden by a man I had built up in my mind.

“No,” he said grimly, “I’m not.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Running into you was no accident. The entire thing was planned.”

“Planned?”

“Like the best magic tricks” He leaned across the table and started to whisper, “The plan was to make you fall in love with me and then I would rip your heart out.”

I was taken aback, and shook my head in disbelief. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because the truth is freeing, and after knowing you for less than an hour, I see something in you.”

“You’re an asshole.” I scooped my books off the table and into the pit of my arm. “But you already know that.” I thought it was fate that I had ran into him, and it was destiny as I turned to flee, pushing through the glass doors of the campus café.

“You’re damaged goods,” he said as he followed me out the doors and onto the busy sidewalk. “Anyone can see that.”

“Oh, thank you,” I screamed as I turned to face him. “Just what every girl wants to hear.”

“It’s not about what you want.” He stepped toward me and gestured with his hands. “It’s about what you need.”

“And what do I need?”

“Someone to watch over you. Someone to guide you.”

I scoffed incredulously. “I think I’ll have to take a pass.” And with that, I found myself fleeing again, walking as fast as I could back toward the dorms.

But he followed me, staying the course right beside my side. “You’ve been hurt by some guy.”

“Who hasn’t?”

“I haven’t.” He laughed, but I didn’t return the laughter at his lame joke. “Let me in, and I promise you will never have your heart broken by a man again.”

“My Spidey-sense is tingling and you’re a creep.”

“There’s a fire to you, Apple.” He seemed so sure of himself, like a pastor preaching to his disciples. “It’s beautiful and it burns hotter than revenge. You just don’t know it yet.”

“Please,” I shouted and came to a halt at a busy crosswalk. “Please, continue telling me more about me. You don’t know me.”

“I do, though. More than you could ever know yourself.”

“And the award for the most clichéd goes to Brick Valmont.”

“Men are monsters, sweetheart.” He shook his head in affirmation. “You know what they say about fighting fire with fire? Well, you fight monsters with monsters.”

“I’m listening, but only because I don’t have a choice.”

“I mean…” He pointed to the line of cars cruising through the intersection. “You could always walk out into traffic.”

“You have until that light turns red.”

He took a deep, hard breath before he pressed on. I prepared myself to ignore everything he said. “I’m a user and an abuser. I get what I want, when I want it. I will never be a victim to anyone in this world again.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and I found myself drawn into what he was saying. “I think that speaks to you, and I think you’re understanding me.”

I knew I had to resist his indescribable charms, but I also knew it would be more difficult than it had seemed. The devil could sell you a nightmare and you’d think it was a dream. I was torn between utter night terrors and the promise of pearly gates. “Are you in love with me or something?” That’s all I could think to ask. Nothing made sense, even if the wheels of my mind—and my heart—were turning with his apparent false promises.

“No.” He smiled just like the devil. “I’m in love with who you’re going to be.”

“And tell me, who am I going to be?”

He leaned in close and whispered, “Let me show you.”

“No.” I shook my head and took a long step back, almost pushing myself against the flow of traffic. “I don’t think so.”

He just stared at me. It’s almost as if he knew I would change my mind—but fuck, he seemed to know everything else. “The light’s red now.”

“And?”

“You’re still standing here.”

5

PRESENT

Like a queen on her throne, I sit comfortably perched in the valley of an antique chair. It’s a quiet Sunday afternoon and I’m lost in a daze, staring at the space between the front door and I. I’m planning my next move, and the move after that. If I’m going to beat Brick at his own game, I have to always be thinking ten steps ahead.

“Where is your sweet roommate?” Bricks voice cuts through the silence as he closes the front door behind him.

“You can find her in the library when she’s not in class.” I push myself back against the chair and throw on my game face. “Thank God.”

He cuts into the living room and drops down onto the couch opposite of me. He kicks his feet out onto the fabric of the couch without taking his shoes off. “She’s a good girl, Apple.”

I reach down, remove my shoe and throw it at him. He dodges out of the way, and spins his feet onto the floor. “That’s the fucking problem. If I wanted to be a nanny, I’d don the nicest sundress I own and be a fucking nanny.”

“You don’t own any sundresses,” he says with a sly nod of his head.

“Touche.” I rise to my feet and slip off my other shoe. “Speaking of sundresses and imbeciles, are you making any progress with Tyra?”

“I met her for lunch today.” He smirks and crosses his right leg over his knee. “Well, I ran into her during lunch.”