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prologue
Sutton
Age Seventeen
The rain pitters on the window as I pull my blanket up a little higher, curling my legs in on the plush chaise lounge. This has been my favorite place to read since my father had it built years ago. It’s also the only place where I can feel invisible because aside from our maid, Gert, no one else ever comes up here. I’ve never been able to understand why though. At the highest point of the house, the view overlooking the creek behind our home is my favorite. I’ve never been much of an outdoorsy sort of girl. So, I long for rainy summer days like this one.
The rain grows heavier, suddenly turning into those huge raindrops that hit off the window, making it impossible to see through the glass. I sigh, silently hoping that my family will cancel their annual barbeque later on today. Knowing good and well that it’s not likely. My parents would move the entire shindig inside our home before canceling. Becauseit’s the event of the summer.On the bright side, there will be plenty of liquor. And I have gotten damn good at sneaking it.
“Knock, knock,” Gert’s voice says before she saunters in. “Child, you’re still in sweatpants. It’s time for you to shower and get ready for the cookout.”
Gert has been with us since I was a baby, and despite that I am now seventeen and going to be heading into my final year of high school in a few months, she still talks to me like I’m a toddler. She is in her late sixties now and slowing down all the time. It’s clear her years in this household are limited. She has kids and grandkids of her own, but I know my family pays a pretty penny to keep her around. She does everything for us.
I flop onto my side, putting an arm over my face, and groan. “It’s literally a downpour outside. And I know I heard thunder and saw lightning. It’d be a shame to drag everyone out here and get theirexpensiveshoes ruined.” I pretend to gag before peeking up at her. “What if someone gets struck by lightning?” My eyes widen. “Now,thatwould make things interesting.”
“Okay, Miss Attitude.” She shakes her head and fights a smile. “I know this isn’t your cup of tea, but there would have to be a tornado, and even then, they probably wouldn’t cancel.” She sits on the end of the bench and pats my ankle. “Besides, it’s going to clear off in the next hour and get hot again.”
“Perfect,” I mutter.
“Look on the bright side. The Thompsons are coming. Which means you get to see Haley. Aren’t y’all friends?”
“We are—sort of.” I pause. “She’s nice.”
Her eyes narrow. “But?”
“But with her also comes her parents.Andher brother.” I inhale, shaking my head the smallest bit. “And honestly? I think that guy’s a tool.”
She’s quiet for a moment before she gives my ankle one last pat and stands. “I don’t think he’s nearly as bad as you’ve convinced yourself he is. You have to remember, like you, his family puts immense pressure on him to succeed. You know the weight of those kind of expectations.” And then she heads toward the door. “Start getting ready soon. The guests will be arriving before we know it, and I set the dress your mother wants you to wear on your bed.” She gives me a small look of warning. “Wear the dress she chose, Sutton. If you don’t, I’ll be the one to hear it.”
“Yes, boss lady,” I huff.
The Thompson family is made up of some of the wealthiest people this side of the state. All because Hunter’s dad, Henry, along with his brothers, are considered to be the most elite doctors in Tennessee. And it didn’t just start with them. No, it went back generations upon generations. Which is why Hunter and his sister, Haley,are expected to follow in their footsteps. All the way to medical school.
My family is among the richest families in Tennessee as well. I suppose it was only natural for our families to become friends. Especially since it was obvious that they could help each other out. When the Thompsons need a little extra push to get a new building permit approved, my father, as a senator, has some pull. And when my dad needs a little more backing for his campaigns and fundraisers, the Thompsons are there to lend a few million.
But while the Thompsons are shallow and conceited, Hunter is different. He doesn’t fit into the picture-perfect image they strive to achieve. Though he sure looks flawless. His smile, too seamless. His abs? Does he ever eat carbs?And don’t even get me started on the swagger. Ugh, rude. No one should have the audacity to walk through a room like they know every female—and probably a number of males—is ogling them. But he does. And it’s obnoxious. His brown hair is just long enough to run his fingers through. And he is always flashing around his cocky, boyish grin for some stupid reason. He is crazy hot because he doesn’t need to try.
But the most attractive part of him? He’s no sheep. His parents made the honest mistake of allowing him to play youth hockey when he was a kid. And then being on the ice was all he saw. Being a doctor? Forget it. The only time he’ll be hanging out at a hospital is after he inevitably gets injured while playing in a game. That boy has his sights set on the NHL. And that drives his family crazy. To them, there is no future in anything besides joining their practice. Their insanely large practice. One that is always growing with new locations popping up all over the state.With his mom being a scientist, always trying to cure something, and his dad being one of the top ranked surgeons in the South, they are well known. But that isn’t what Hunter wants. And he has made that pretty clear.
And I guess I understand him in that sense. After all, I have spent my days waiting for the moment I can be my authentic, true self. Because for my entire life, I’ve been a fraud. From being a student at an all-girls private school since before I can remember to being a cringy country-club member, walking in with people who look like they have a literal stick shoved so far up their ass that if the doctor told them to sayahhh, the doc would see the top of the stick in their throat. I’m forced to wear the most expensive clothing. And, sure, I attend all these obnoxious fundraisers for my father’s campaigns. But someday soonish, I’m going to break out of my little cage and be free. Free from the unattainable expectations. Free from constantly having to pretend to be perfect just because I’m the senator’s daughter. And hopefully free from my parents’ future plans for me.
I’m a ballet dancer. It’s who I am. But at what cost?
What started off as something to make me look more sophisticated ended up being the only thing that gave me a real sense of purpose. But even I have had my share of getting burned out from it over the years. I guess when you push yourself to literal perfection, that’s what happens. Especially since everyone knows perfection is just a fantasy. It isn’t real. But still, I need to get as close as humanly possible to it. Though, I’ll admit, right now, my shitty lungs haven’t exactly made it an easy journey. It appears asthma and intense dancing don’t really mix all that well.
But like my mom has said, I can use asthma as an excuse to be mediocre, or I can try harder.
And because I can’t stand the look of disappointment on my parents’ faces when I don’t make the cut, I guess I’ll just try harder. I’ll try harder and hope it doesn’t break me for good.
Hunter
I’m so glad I am about to get the hell out of here in a few weeks. God, I hate this shit.
My shirt makes me look like a douche. Not that I don’t fit in—everyone at this thing actually is a douche. But Senator Savage and his wife have been best friends with my parents for years. They aren’t bad people, but they care more about things they own and where they sit on the social ladder than anything else. They are shallow. As a fucking puddle on a paved driveway.
I shove my hands in my pockets as we walk out to the huge backyard that’s set up similar to my own. A swimming pool with plenty of seating areas and umbrellas surrounding it. Making this the perfect place for a stuck-up party where only the most elite are welcome. I don’t belong.
My sister bolts away from my parents and me, and I don’t have to look to know where—or rather who—she’s running to. But still, I look anyway. Taking in the girl in the pale blue dress, her dark hair pulled up into a loose braid, flowing over her shoulder.
