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After a traumatic breakup with her college sweetheart, Aria Davenport meets an older, more sexually experienced businessman who promises to change her life forever.
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Six Months Ago
Sunday (Graduation)
"Ari!" Troy Lockhart, my best guy friend and T-shirt business partner, maneuvers through the crowded atrium and embraces me in a full-body hug. "We did it!" His graduation cap falls to the ground as he presses his body into mine. I'm caught off guard by the gesture, but I let it pass.
"I know!" I yell, jumping up and down in his arms.
Troy is exceptionally fine. Even though we're the best of friends, I'm not blind. He could easily run away to Vegas, join the Chippendales revue and make serious bank. He has the face and that sexy, athletic body. He's Magic Mike XXL fine and his dark olive complexion, hypnotic green eyes and tousled sandy blonde hair don't hurt either. It makes him look as innocent as a cherub but when he flashes that blindingly beautiful smile, he's as deadly as the devil. A heartstopper.
His open, lovable personality takes him over the top. He's insanely popular with the girls on campus. Girls of every type throw themselves at him and having no specific "type," Troy has dated all kinds of women. He just dates who he likes. It's why the girls love him so much. They all believe they have a chance with him. I'd say he has a pretty dedicated fan base. They sit around and talk about him. Some have even stalked him. With most guys, this would go to their heads, but not Troy. He's a different breed. Troy is a unicorn.
The hug lingers longer than I expect. His hands slide down my back, resting around my waist, just above my hips. Standing so close to him with my arms around his neck, I feel the heat radiating off him. His cool nautical scent is so refreshing, I have to pull away and put a little space between us. When did he become so intense? Troy holds onto my waist, keeping me close, in spite of my attempt to escape.
On and off over the last four years, I've had a sneaky suspicion that maybe there was something there between us but nothing ever came of it. Not until now. Suddenly our faces line up, eye to eye, nose to nose, lips to lips. We're so close, less than a finger's width apart. For a split second, I'm drawn in. Time seems to stand still as the question hangs over our heads.
Should we...do this?
"There's the scholar! The first in our family to graduate! Smile!" Mama holds up her phone to snap a picture, snapping me out from under his spell.
Troy's arms immediately drop from around my waist and he quickly steps away and picks up his graduation cap.
"What was that on stage?" Mia looks amused.
"What?" I crack a half-smile, acting oblivious.
"Hmm. Let me see. One. Instead of accepting your diploma, you take the mic from the announcer. Two. You speak in a thick Cuban accent." Mia holds up three fingers. "You tell the announcer, 'I want what's coming to me.'"
Penelope puts up four fingers. "You put the mic to the announcer's lips. He asks, 'What's coming to you?' all confused."
In unison, they yell in thick Cuban accents, "The world, chico, and everything in it!"
