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CHAPTER ONE
SORIN
He always looks at me as if I am his hero. I’m not. Instead of being a white knight, I am a black soul. One that would break him, taint him, and leave him a mess. I didn’t expect to fall in love with him, but it happened. And no matter how much I want to steal him away from this life, I can’t.
He belongs here.
But I belong to him.
Which leaves me at an impasse I can’t ignore.
My home will always be wherever he is, and now I have to tell him I’m leaving. I’m heading to Harvard. I know he applied there, but he didn’t say anything about getting in. And as I step out my front door, I look over at the house where the boy I’ve fallen in love with lives.
I grew up across the road from one of the most beautiful boys I’ve ever seen in my life. He moved in with his family and became a part of the neighborhood. But all the while, I watched him from a distance. We may not be best friends, but we are made for each other. The only thing is, he’s not mine.
I’ve seen him with girls. When they hold hands, when he kisses them, I want nothing more than to gauge my eyes out. The ache in my chest is a flame, flickering, dancing in a breeze. When I’m near him, though, it’s a fucking inferno.
He is everything I have ever wanted, but also, all I can’t have.
A forbidden desire.
A longing.
I’ve lived with it for years, but tomorrow is our eighteenth birthday.
When I first found out Ezryn’s birthday was the same day as mine, I knew it was meant to be. We were both turning thirteen and he had a small party with some of the boys and girls from school. Me, on the other hand, I was alone in my house, waiting for my parents to get home from the hospital with my sister.
She was born premature.
We almost lost her.
But thankfully, she made it through. A little fighter, just like her big brother.
I’m from the wrong side of the tracks, as they call it. The one who’s always in trouble. Can’t help the fact that I enjoy fighting. It’s in my blood. My father is one of the most infamous MMA fighters of all time. And I am just following in his footsteps. Or I was until I received the scholarship to Harvard.
If I turn it down, I’ll have to endure years of disappointment from my parents, so I’m leaving. As much as I look up to Dad, he doesn’t want me to do what he does. He’s told me time and again just how dangerous it is and how much he wants me to stay away from the one thing that made him famous.
When I step out of the house, Ezryn looks up. I wouldn’t call us friends; more like brothers who were born to different mothers. He offers me a smile, one I know I’m going to miss. It’s a yearning that’s so twisted in my gut, my stomach aches with the need to have more.
“Hey,” I greet him when I reach their garden. Even though it’s only a road to cross to get to his house, at times, it feels like a goddamned ridge.
“I heard you’re leaving,” he tells me, a twinge of something I can’t quite put my finger on in his voice. Perhaps sadness. For a moment, I’m convinced he’s hurt by the news, but he can’t be. He’s only ever been my friend. My platonic best friend. There has never been an inkling of interest in any way, which matches the kind I have in him.
Nodding, I say, “Yeah, in a couple of days I’ll be one of those prim and proper bastards studying and trying to keep my grades up.”
He laughs. It’s a sound I’ve heard over the years, and it’s one I’ve come to love. “Well, I suppose I should tell you my news,” he responds, his smile brightening his deep blue eyes. They remind me of the sky on a spring morning, bright and full of life.
“You have news?”
This time, he nods. “Got my letter today,” he says. “I’ll be at Harvard too.” My stomach clenches, and my chest tightens. “My folks are paying for it, but they wanted me to try to get into one of the best schools. Knowing my luck, I’ll probably drop out and lose interest.”
It’s not the first time he’s been down about himself, and I hate it. There’s a part of me, a very dominant part that wants him to see just how special he is. But he doesn’t. “So, we’ll be together.” Even as I say the words, I realize how it sounds. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but when Ez grins, I’m thankful I said it.
“Maybe we can room together,” he tells me. “Or if I can get my folks to rent an apartment, you’re welcome to stay with me.”
I don’t know about being so close to him. If I were, I’d probably end up making a move that could upset him and impact our friendship.
“Maybe,” I say instead of refusing outright. I’ll figure it out on my own. I don’t need handouts, and I definitely don’t need to be sleeping in the same apartment, let alone room with Ez. It’s a mistake waiting to happen.
