The train platform smelled of damp concrete and diesel. Alex shifted his weight, the strap of his duffel bag digging into his shoulder, a familiar anchor in the swirl of goodbyes. His mother's perfume....a faint cloud of lily-clung to him even as she pulled away, her eyes shiny.
"Be smart," his father said, the words gruff, clapping him on the back. It meant everything and nothing.
Then the train doors hissed shut, and the Midlands town that knew him as Lilly Henderson's eternal shoulder to cry on began to slide away. In its place, a thrilling, terrifying blankness. London. Sterling University. A chance to be the main character in his own life, not a footnote in someone else's.
His new dorm room was a shoebox with a view of brick wall. It smelled of industrial lemon cleaner and the ghost of a thousand former students. His roommate, Sam, was already there, a whirlwind of ginger hair and easy laughter, pinning up a poster of a band Alex didn't know.
"You must be Alex!" Sam grinned, tossing him a chocolate bar. "Brace yourself. The chaos starts in approximately three hours at the Freshers' Mixer. My boyfriend's bringing the good vodka."
Before Alex could ask about the boyfriend, a figure appeared in the open doorway, leaning against the frame. He didn't so much enter as occupy the space.
Leo.
He was all easy confidence and calculated casualness-dark jeans, a charcoal sweater that probably cost more than Alex's textbooks, hair artfully messy. His smile was a white, even flash.
"You must be the famous Alex," Leo said, his voice a warm, smooth baritone. He stepped forward and shook Alex's hand, his grip firm and lingering. "Sam's been buzzing about you. I'm Leo. Resident guide, protector of the lost, and," he added with a wink, "purveyor of said good vodka." He slipped an arm around Sam's waist, pulling him close in a motion that was both possessive and effortless.
"Don't let him modesty-fy himself," Sam laughed, leaning into the touch. "He's basically a god on this campus. President of Theta Kappa Phi. Runs the investment society. Knows everyone."
"I know of everyone," Leo corrected gently, his amber eyes flicking back to Alex. "There's a difference. You'll learn the difference. Come on, let's get you a proper welcome."
The mixer was a throbbing mass of bodies in a sweat-hazed union hall. Alex felt adrift until he saw her.
Lilly.
She was a shock of color in the monochrome crowd. A riot of blonde waves, lips painted a daring crimson, wearing a vintage band t-shirt cut to ride a sliver of toned stomach. She was arguing passionately with a guy about postmodern architecture, waving a plastic cup of punch for emphasis. Her laugh cut through the bassline-a bright, reckless sound.
Their eyes met across the heaving room. Time didn't slow; it snapped into hyper-focus. She stopped mid-sentence, her smile softening into something more curious, more intense. She tilted her head, as if recognizing a tune she'd forgotten.
Then Leo was beside Alex, a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Ah. I see you've spotted the campus comet."
"Who is she?" Alex asked, unable to look away as she vanished into the crowd.
"Lilly Moreau," Leo said. His tone was light, but his fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on Alex's shoulder. "Brilliant. Unpredictable. Beautiful." He paused, taking a slow sip of his drink. "And famously… complicated. She burns through pretty things. And people. Consider that your first official orientation."
Before Alex could process the warning, a voice spoke directly behind him, laced with citrus and mischief.
"Stop scaring the fresh meat, Leo. He looks half-decent. We don't have a surplus of those."
Alex turned. Lilly stood there, so close he could see the silver flecks in her blue eyes. She smelled of oranges and night air.
"I was just giving him the lay of the land," Leo said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes now.
"The land, or your version of it?" Lilly retorted, not breaking her gaze from Alex's. She plucked the untouched cup from his hand and took a sip. "He can form his own opinions. Can't you…" She trailed off, waiting.
"Alex."
"Alex," she repeated, his name a delicious secret on her tongue. She handed the cup back, her fingertips brushing his. A spark, immediate and visceral, shot straight to his core. "Find me later, Alex. When the circus dies down. I'll be by the fire exit. The view's better, and the company's less… curated."
She disappeared into the throng, leaving Alex reeling.
The night blurred. Leo was a constant, charismatic presence, introducing Alex to a stream of important people, his arm a frequent, friendly weight across Alex's shoulders. But Alex's blood still hummed from a two-second touch.
He found the fire exit as the party began to wane. The cold night air was a slap. And there she was, silhouetted against the city's electric glow.
"Took you long enough," she said, not turning.
"You're hard to read."
"Good." She finally faced him. Up close, she was even more stunning, a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips. "Leo gave you the 'complicated' speech, didn't he?"
"He might have mentioned it."
"He would." She leaned against the railing, studying him. "Leo and I… we have history. The messy, dramatic kind that leaves scars. He thinks he has a patent on me. On my story."
"And do you?" Alex asked, stepping closer. The magnetic pull was undeniable.
"I belong to no one," she whispered, her eyes dropping to his lips. "But I choose who I let in. For a night. Or for longer." She closed the final inch between them. Her breath was warm on his cheek. "The question is, Alex, are you just another pretty thing looking for a story to tell? Or are you something else?"
He didn't answer with words. He cupped her face, his thumb brushing the high arc of her cheekbone, and brought his mouth to hers.
The kiss was not gentle. It was a collision—a release of all the day's tension, a claim staked on his new beginning. It tasted of stolen punch and rebellion and pure, undiluted want. Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer, a small, hungry sound vibrating in her throat against his lips.
It was the single most electrifying moment of his life.
A sudden, sharp crack of laughter from inside made them spring apart. Leo stood just inside the glass door, holding it open, his expression unreadable. The party light carved harsh planes into his handsome face.
"There you are," Leo said, his voice smooth as silk, devoid of any surprise. "Sam was worried you'd gotten lost. The after-party's at the Theta house." His eyes, cold and assessing, swept over Alex's flushed face, over Lilly's kiss-swollen lips. A slow, knowing smile spread across his features. It wasn't angry. It was… interested. "You should both come. The night's still young."
He held the door open, a king inviting them back into his domain.
Lilly's hand found Alex's, lacing their fingers together tightly. Her touch was a promise, and a warning.
As they stepped back into the noise, Leo's gaze was a brand on the back of Alex's neck. The kiss had been a declaration. But in Leo's silent, smiling scrutiny, Alex felt the first cold trickle of a truth: in this new world, he hadn't just found a girl.
He'd just made a rival.