Queen of Hawthorne Prep

by Jennifer Sucevic

  “Nice view.”

  I yelp and swing around, straightening to my full height only to come face-to-face with the most gorgeous boy I’ve ever seen. My breath gets lodged at the back of my throat as his mahogany-colored eyes pierce mine with unwavering intensity. Rooted in place, it’s all I can do to take in the thick slashes of his eyebrows before my gaze slides to the slant of high cheekbones, and then on to a perfect cupid’s bow of a mouth.

  Damn.

  He’s seriously hot.

  Like...way out of my league hot.

  My heart riots painfully against my chest as I continue to stare. His brows rise as humor sparks to life in his eyes.

  Is he waiting for a response?

  Did he ask a question, and I wasn’t paying attention? I hit the mental rewind button and quickly sift through our limited conversation.

  Nice view.

  Nice view?

  Wasn’t I bent over at the time with my ass in the air?

  Heat slams into my cheeks with the force of a tsunami. That’s exactly the pose I’d been striking. When he had said nice view, he’d been commenting on my behind. The very same behind barely covered by a thin strip of fabric because the beach has been fairly empty since we arrived on Saturday. This guy is one of the few people I’ve seen.

  “Ummm, thanks,” I force myself to respond.

  His lips slide into a smirk as if I’ve amused him.

  I need to pull it together before I humiliate myself any further. Although, let’s be honest, that ship has already set sail. Right now, I’m operating strictly in damage control mode.

  Is it possible that he hasn’t noticed my awkwardness?

  Any chance of clinging to that unlikely prospect is blown out of the water when he tilts his head. “Did you just thank me for admiring your ass?”

  All right, so he noticed.

  The heat radiating from my face intensifies a few hundred degrees until self-combustion seems likely. Not to mention, welcome.

  “Yeah,” I mumble, attempting to rip my gaze from his, but that proves to be impossible. It’s as if I’ve become ensnared by the dark depths assessing me in such a forthright manner. “Apparently I did.”

  The sound of his deep chuckle reverberates throughout my entire body before darting straight to my—

  “I’m Kingsley.” He steps forward, closing some of the distance between us. His proximity makes my heart pound faster. “And you are?”

  Humiliated?

  Embarrassed?

  Mortified?

  It’s a dealer’s choice.

  “Summer,” I mutter instead. When you daydream about talking with a really hot guy, this isn’t exactly how you picture it playing out.

  Relief rushes from my lungs when his gaze flicks from me to the house I’m standing in front of. There’s something powerful about his stare. It leaves me feeling exposed as if he’s able to pick through all of my private thoughts. It’s a disconcerting sensation. I want to run and hide but my feet refuse to move. I’m frozen in place.

  He points to the house on the dunes. “Is that yours?”

  “Yes,” I clear my throat along with those disconcerting thoughts, “we’re renting for the week.”

  He nods as his attention returns to me where it stays put. That same feeling of nervousness fills me. “Who knows, maybe I’ll see you around, Summer.”

  A wave of heat wafts over me at the sound of my name sliding from his lips. I tamp down the response and shrug, trying to play it cool even though it’s much too late for that.

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  He flashes a wide grin as if not fooled by my nonchalance before taking off at a brisk pace down the beach.

  Now that his attention is no longer focused on me, I’m free to look my fill as all those well-honed muscles shift and bunch as he jogs away. We’re talking broad shoulders with a wide, muscular back that tapers into a trim waist. Loose black athletic shorts cover his trunk and thighs. My gaze drops, wanting to commit every detail to memory. Damn, even his calves are well-defined.

  There’s no way a guy built like that is in high school. He’s definitely in college. I’d like to know what university he attends so I can submit an application. As his figure grows more distant, I realize that I don’t even care if they offer astronomy as a major.

  I chuckle and shake my head at the thought of planning my future around a boy I spoke with for all of two minutes.

  Never.

  Going.

  To.

  Happen.

  I have plans. Lots of them. And I would never derail a single one for a guy.

  No matter how good looking he is.

  Once the boy fades from sight, I blink out of my thoughts and head back to the house. In all likelihood, I’ll never see him again.

  Chapter Two

  As the brightly shining sun climbs in the cloudless sky, I drag my folding chair across the sand to the water’s edge. Once settled, I grab a hardcover book from my bag and open it to the page where I left off. Up until this point, I’ve been devouring every word. But yesterday, I couldn’t focus on a single sentence. How could I when a mental image of the dark-haired hottie kept materializing in my head?

  Clearing my throat along with those thoughts, I start at chapter twenty and turn the page. But the words refuse to register, and I can’t remember any of the details that should be fresh in my mind.

  Damnation. I’m thinking about him again.

  Kingsley.

  Interesting name. It sounds so royal.

  I glance left and then right, but the beach remains empty. A vast stretch of sand as far as the eye can see. Disappointment settles in the pit of my gut as I fidget restlessly on the chair.

  This is ridiculous. I’m here to read and enjoy the sun. Maybe go for a swim. What I’m not doing is waiting around for a boy. Now I have to push Kingsley whatever-the-hell-his-name-is out of my head and focus on spending a little quality time with myself. Which I was perfectly content to do the last couple of days.

  “Hey, there.”

  I squeak in surprise as my head twists toward the sound of his deep voice. No matter how much I don’t want to admit it, inside I’m doing a happy dance and screaming at the top of my lungs.

  “Oh, hey.” Good. That’s the perfect amount of disinterest. Play it cool, Summer. No need for him to think you’ve been sitting here, waiting for him to show up and make your day.

  A smile simmers around the edges of his lips.

  Have I mentioned how seriously kissable they look?

  Or that I’m dying to feel them sliding over mine?

  His tongue peeks out to lick at his bottom lip before biting down on the plumpness.

  Holy hell. Liquid heat pools in my core, and a small sigh slips from my mouth.

  Oh God, please tell me that didn’t just happen.

  Cautiously, my gaze darts to his to determine the situation. The smile curving his lips turns decidedly cocky. That, coupled with the knowing glint in his eyes, makes me realize that he’s well aware of the effect he has on me. If I were smart, I would pull the plug on this disastrous interaction by gathering up my stuff and vanishing inside the house.

  The only thing getting me through this unfortunate moment is the knowledge that I’ll never see him again. It’s not like we live in the same city. Or go to school together. He’s a random guy on the beach.

  See? I feel better already.

  He tilts his head as his dark eyes dance. “Any chance you’ve been waiting for me?”

  “What?” I force out a disbelieving chuckle. “A little full of yourself, aren’t we?” I grab the book from my lap and hold it up as proof. “I was reading.”

  “Hmmm.” My guess is that he doesn’t believe me.

  Apparently, we can add intelligent to his growing list of attributes. It goes right up there with gorgeous and muscular.

  “That’s too bad, because I was hoping to see you again.”
/>   Be still my heart.

  I blink. Did he really just say that?

  This dreamy hunk of a guy was actually looking for me?

  Me? No way.

  I’m pretty sure my brows just slammed into my hairline with disbelief. Wait a minute. I’m supposed to be playing it cool. I need to pretend like hot muscly jocks talk to me all the time.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah,” he steps closer, “I was planning on taking my boat out today and was wondering if you wanted to join me.”

  Is he kidding?

  Hell yeah, I do!

  Instead of jumping out of my chair and straight into his arms, I keep my ass firmly planted in place while tapping a finger against my lips. “Hmmm, I don’t know. As you can see, I’ve got a packed day planned out.”

  His lips tremble. “You do look busy.”

  “Give me a moment to consult my calendar.” Before he can say anything further, I continue. “All right, I’ve checked it. If I shift around a few things, I can squeeze you in.”

  “Wow.” His broad shoulders shake with silent laughter as humor fills his eyes. “I really lucked out, didn’t I?”

  “Right?” I give him an overly bright smile, finally feeling like I’m on even ground with a guy who could easily be mistaken for a Greek god.

  Just like in the movies, he stretches out his hand and I almost squeal in delight—but keep all the joy trapped deep inside where it can’t stoke his ego—before placing my fingers in his. Once his hand closes around mine, he pulls me effortlessly to my feet.

  So.

  Many.

  Muscles.

  I grab my canvas bag which contains my cell phone, towel, coverup, sunscreen, sandals, and a bottle of water. All the necessities for a day on the water. I toss the book inside before hoisting the straps over my shoulder.

  Voilà. I’m ready to go.

  He glances toward the tiny blue house. “Do you need to tell your parents you’re taking off?”

  What does he think I am?

  A baby?

  “Of course not,” I scoff before fishing around in the bag for my cell. “But I’ll shoot them a text, so they don’t worry.” My fingers fly over the keyboard as I fire off a quick message before tossing it back inside the oversized tote. “Okay, all set.”

  “Cool.” A smile curves his lips as he shifts his weight in the sand. “Should we get moving?”

  “Definitely.”

  We walk for about fifteen minutes and pepper each other with light questions. As we head north, the houses continue to get more gigantic until they look like the beach version of a McMansion. We stop in front of a massive gray two-story with bright white trim painted around the windows.

  With his hair blowing in the wind, he jerks his head toward the house. “This is me.”

  “Wow.” I’m sure my face registers the shock coursing through me. This place is easily three thousand square feet and sits on prime lakefront property. I can’t begin to imagine what a house like this costs.

  We walk up the sand path that cuts through the wild grass that grows on the dunes until we hit a manicured lawn with a diamond pattern mowed into it.

  Fancy.

  There’s a rectangular-shaped pool of crystal-clear water and a hot tub near the back of the house. The patio has a massive stone fireplace and an inviting gray wicker couch with plush blue cushions. An oversized umbrella shades the seating arrangement from the sun. I can almost imagine curling up there with a good book.

  This definitely doesn’t have a rental vibe to it. My guess is that Kingsley’s family owns it.

  My toes sink into the lawn as we move toward the sprawling house. The grass is plush beneath my feet as if it’s been watered and fertilized to an inch of its life. I stop and fish my sandals out of my bag before throwing on my coverup. Instead of heading inside the house, we detour around the property until arriving at a faded red brick driveway.

  He pulls out a set of keys from the pocket of his boardshorts and clicks the locks on a sleek silver Range Rover. “Why don’t you hop in the car and I’ll run inside and grab my shoes.”

  I nod as he trots up the wide porch steps and slips inside the glass front door. By the time I’m settled on the leather seat, he’s jogging toward the SUV. I glance at the house and realize it’s even more impressive than it looked from the rear.

  Maybe Kingsley is an actual King.

  The thought brings a smile to my face.

  A moment later, he slides in next to me and the engine purrs to life. We pull out of the circular drive and head north. My gaze flits from the lush green landscape beyond the passenger side window that whizzes by to the handsome boy sitting to my left. It’s difficult to fathom that an hour ago, I was pretending not to look for him and now, we have plans to spend the day together on his boat.

  “Exactly where are we headed?” That’s probably a question I should have asked before locking myself inside the vehicle with him.

  He shoots me a quick glance before focusing on the ribbon of black pavement stretched out before him. “The boat is docked at the marina. It’s about a ten-minute drive from here.”

  My guess is that he’s talking about the swanky country club where there are boat slips available to its members for an astronomical fee. Less than ten minutes later, we pull into the parking lot. Pristine yachts and speed boats are anchored at the slips. Seagulls float overhead, squawking in the cloudless sky as they search for food. It’s the perfect day to be out on the water.

  We exit the Range Rover and Kingsley heads to the trunk before popping it open and grabbing an olive-green colored cooler from the back. Once he slams it shut, we walk through the gravel parking lot to the pier.

  Kingsley points to a massive speed boat. “That’s mine.”

  Holy crap...can you say ginormous?

  “Oh, good. I was afraid it might be tiny.” I give him a bit of side eye before adding, “That would be really embarrassing for you.”

  He snorts as his hand settles on the small of my back. The heat of his palm burns a hole through my coverup and singes my flesh. “I assure you, nothing about me is tiny.”

  I burst out laughing. “Did you seriously just say that?”

  His shoulders shake as he chuckles. “Guilty.”

  “Well,” I say primly, squashing the humor from my voice, “I won’t be finding that out for myself. And if that’s a problem, you should take me home right now.”

  “Hey,” he says with an easy shrug, “you’re the one who brought up size.”

  “Of your boat,” I add as the gentle breeze off the water blows the loose hair away from my face.

  “Noted.” Even though his eyes are shaded by a pair of aviators, I imagine they’re dancing with mischief. “Should we proceed?”

  My feet slow as I arch a brow. “Can I trust you not to bring up the size of your vessel again? That was super uncomfortable.”

  His lips twitch as he removes his hand from my back and lays it over his heart. “You have my promise. There will be no more talk about vessel size.”

  “Then I’ll continue with our voyage,” I say in a magnanimous tone.

  “Excellent.” He dips his head in acknowledgment. “You’ve made the crew very happy.”

  We both grin before traversing the pier to where the glossy boat waits. The closer we get, the more impressed I become. I don’t know anything about boats, but even I can tell this one costs a shit ton of money. Probably as much as our house in Chicago, which is a crazy thought.

  With athletic grace, he jumps onto the wooden platform at the back before reaching out his hand for me to take hold of. My heart skips a beat as I make the leap with his assistance.

  I guess we can safely add gentleman to the growing list of attributes.

  Kingsley shimmies past a seating arrangement to the steering console before setting down the Yeti cooler. I follow behind him, taking the boat in as I do. The interior is clean and sparkling a
s if it’s brand spanking new. There’s a hard-top canopy over the steering console with a window to take in the view and a small white pad in the front that has a railing wrapped around it. As Kingsley moves through the preparations of getting the craft in operating order, I settle on the curved seating arrangement at the back of the boat and observe him. I’m not going to lie, it’s seriously sexy watching him check fluids and flip switches. The process is obviously a familiar one, because his movements are precise and economical. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

  Before we’re able to take off from the dock, he jumps off the boat and unties the heavy ropes that anchor the vessel in place before settling on the leather chair at the controls. The motor hums to life as he checks his surroundings and carefully navigates the boat out of the harbor.

  The further we get from shore, the more wind picks up, blowing through my hair as we fly over the waves. I reach into my bag and grab a rubber band, pulling my long hair into a topknot so it’s not in my face. As Kingsley accelerates, I watch the shoreline grow distant before my gaze shifts to the boy manning the helm. Mirrored sunglasses shade his eyes as the wind whips through his short dark hair. Today he’s wearing a navy-colored T-shirt that clings to his chest and biceps along with plaid boardshorts that reach the top of his knees. My girly parts twitch in male appreciation.

  He’s kind of perfect.

  Actually, there’s no kind of about it. And from our limited conversation, it’s safe to say that he gets my quirky sense of humor. Other than my twin brother, Austin, not everyone does. So he definitely gets points for that.

  After about fifteen minutes, Kingsley cuts the engine and drops the anchor. I glance around. It’s like we’re in the middle of nowhere. He pulls off his aviators, dropping them in a cup holder on the side of the steering column before yanking the soft cotton T-shirt over his head and tossing it to the leather chair.

  “Want to go for a swim?”

  “Sure.” I straighten to my full height, which is at least eight inches shorter than him. I’m five foot seven, so he has to be well over six feet. I slip my sunglasses into the canvas bag before stripping off the mesh coverup and removing my sandals. The rhythmic rocking beneath my feet takes some getting used to. I grip the edge of the chair so I don’t take a tumble.