I had never had people who cared if I lived or died, passed classes or failed, but Max cared. When the party was over, he told me if I ever needed work or a place to stay, to call him. I assured him I would, but I knew I wouldn’t.
From that point on I called myself Synclair. Even when Uncle Jack blew into my life a few months later, I introduced myself as Synclair. After all, going to the University was a fresh start, and no one needed to know I had lived on the streets. I could become whoever I wanted to be.
It was perfect. I had a new uncle, a dorm room that was mine, didn’t smell of cigarettes, and definitely had no cockroaches. Max had given me just enough belief in humanity that I was starting to make friends in the dorms. I was still shy, unsure and kept to myself, but I was, at least, waving back to the girls who passed me in the halls on the way to my room.
The truth was I was really awkward. I knew how to defend myself from thugs, or guys looking get too familiar. But I had missed out on all the girl stuff. I didn’t know what the rules were in this college world. A few of the girls had invited me to some parties and even a pep rally, but I had turned them down. Mainly, I was a coward. I didn’t know how to answer questions about my parents, where I was from, or things about the latest make-up or boy band.
Still, I was slowly getting more comfortable around people. The school wasn’t too bad either. It was a lot of work, and the campus was huge, but I enjoyed staying busy. My mother still called me for money and to cry over whatever boyfriend had dumped her. However, life was good; I believed I was finally putting some distance between the streets and myself. I had even taken Max’s advice and started volunteering at a woman’s shelter once a month. He was right; it felt good to give back. I had been to shelters all my life. To my mother’s credit, she never let any of the scummy men who came in and out or lives put their hands on me, but she wasn’t so lucky. I can’t even count the number of times we had been forced to run to the women’s shelter. They were always sympathetic and kind and made me feel safe.
So, life was going along quite nicely. I liked all my classes. Some of the people in them, I could do without, though. People like Amber Donaldson. She was a bimbo from Northern Nevada, came from money and was one of those individuals who hated people like me. I hated people like her too. People who obviously had everything, yet needed to tear people down just to feel important. I was her favorite target. She would sit in class and make comments to her cheerleader friends about my Target shoes, or Goodwill clothes. Mostly, I ignored her. After all, killing your classmate was probably grounds for expulsion.
Then, there was Reece Hudson. The guy was sex on a stick. Tall, dark hair, green eyes, and the star basketball player; he was the whole package. Amber and her minions always surrounded him. They draped over him like cheap perfume, and he seemed to love it. Occasionally, I would look up from my lit assignment and catch him watching me. Of course, I gave him my best “fuck off” look. I wasn’t about to be a notch on Reece Hudson’s bed post. I also didn’t like the way my stomach fluttered when he would turn that sexy, dimpled grin on me. The fact that I found him attractive just made me hate him more.
So, other than a few people I could do without, I was beginning to feel hopeful. I had actually allowed myself to entertain the idea that I was going to be a lawyer, or some other talented and well-educated person. I had started to dream that I was leaving my street life behind me. Then, of course, the fucking phone rang in the middle of the night.
So, here I was, waiting in a cold, room with a television that was tuned to a Spanish soap opera, surrounded by people who were just as miserable as, I was.
Tired, I scrubbed my hands up and down my face. I had thought about not coming; I didn’t want to spend my whole paycheck just to bail out my mom, for drugs, again. However, despite everything, I loved my mom. I didn’t want to imagine her sitting in a jail cell. So, here I was: five hundred dollars more broke than I was yesterday. I was tired, cold, and seriously considering letting her find her own way home so I could catch some sleep before class. I even considered calling Uncle Jack and then subsequently thought the better of it. Mom would have a cow, and no one needed that kind of drama before sunrise.
I was just about to nod off when I heard her voice. “Syn, sweetie, thank God you're here,” her fake tone irritated me.
I got up from the chair and stretched. Grabbing my purse, I walked toward the exit. I was going to put her in a cab, and then I was going to take one back to the dorms. I was tired of this crap. I just didn’t want to do it anymore.
“Syn, baby,” I froze. She only called me baby when she wanted a fix when she needed to get high and wanted me to look away while she jabbed a needle in her arm or bummed money off me to buy it. I knew what was coming, so when I turned around facing her, I let it all show in my expression.
I just stared at the woman in front of me. We were the same height, same color hair, but mine was curly, and hers was straggly, reaching just to her waist. We had the same hazel eyes, but hers seemed lifeless and dull. I used to wonder what she would look like clean. Was she curvy like me once? I seriously doubted she had always been this sickly thin; I doubted that she was born with that unhealthy jaundice look to her. Of course, the needle marks up her arms just rounded out the whole, drug-addict, couture look.
“Don’t call me baby, I am not getting your drugs or paying for drugs. I am paying for a cab to take you back to your hotel, and then I am going to the dorm; I need sleep mom; I have class tomorrow.” I sounded harsher than I meant to, but I was just too tired for this.
Her hazel eyes narrowed. Great, now she was pissed. My day was complete.
“Syn Patrick, I am your mother, and you know I get very sick if I don’t have my medicine. You think just because you got into that fancy University that you're too good for your mama? You need to remember where you come from, girl. You will never fit in with those people. They’ve always looked down on people like us, they’re going to chew you up and spit you out child!” she shouted; her bony hands on her hips.
Now, I was pissed. “Fine,” I said giving her my last $100. “Take it, get a cab, get a fix, and just get away from me. I am going back to my dorm; I am going to get ready for class, and I am going to make something of myself. You’re right! They may never accept me; they may hate me and laugh at my clothes, but you know what, mama? If I am knocked on my ass, I will get back up and move on. It’s the one real thing you ever taught me.”
I whirled away from her stunned expression and walked away. Then, I hung my head. I had given her all my money, and now I didn’t have cab fare, and would have to walk all the way home. I ambled slowly at first. Deep down, I had hoped she would stop me, give me back the money, something. She didn’t call my name, and I didn’t turn around.
Being late sucks. No, let me clarify that, being late because you overslept because you were bailing your ungrateful mother out of jail sucks. I grabbed my book bag and my keys and took off for class. English literature was my first class, and it was on the opposite side of campus. My Professor had already spoken to me about being late so I could imagine the disappointed look I would get when I walked into class...late.
I was imagining that look when I rounded the corner to my class and collided with a freight train. Stunned, I found myself being held up by two large hands that spanned both of my butt cheeks. Confused, I swiveled my head and looked down. That was no freight train, it was Reece Freaking Hudson. His face was flushed, but his green eyes sparkled with amusement. He flashed me a dimpled smile, and I felt that familiar flutter in my stomach.
“What the hell? Hands off my ass Hudson,” I demanded. I might be short but I was curvy, and I knew I wasn’t light. My butt was definitely a handful and the last person I wanted to hear weight jokes from was the gorgeous star of the basketball team. He just smiled at me and laid his head back on the ground. He didn’t seem like he was exerting himself at all. In fact, he looked like was enjoying this.
“Mr. Hudson, Ms. Patrick, i
f you want to play ‘handsies’ go get a room. However, if you want an education, then get yourselves in my classroom,” our professor told us from the doorway.
My face went red with humiliation. I was literally sitting in Reese’s hands like he was about to bench press me. Reece pushed me to a standing position, taking his sweet time about removing his hands from my ass. I pushed past my professor and threw myself into my seat. I didn’t look up, and I tried to ignore the whispers and giggles that surrounded me.
I don’t even know what went on in class that day. I didn’t raise my head from my notes once, not even when I felt Reece staring at me from his seat in the Cheerleader section. I was afraid if I did, I would see him and his harem of girls making fun of me, and I just wasn’t in the mood to go to prison my first few weeks of college. As soon as class was over, I pushed through the crowd of students and raced out the door. From that point on, I decided, I was going to avoid Reece Hudson like the plague.
Reece
“Reece, honey you’re so quiet today.” Distracted, I was only marginally aware of Amber running her hand down my arm.
I wish she would just take a hint. Amber and I had grown up in Carson City, and along with a few of high school friends, we had all come to UNLV together. She had always had a thing for me, but there was something about her that didn’t sit right. She was too needy, too clingy, and too cold. I would look into her blue eyes and see nothing. Since her parents and mine were friends, I tolerated her. Since I was on the basketball team and her on the cheering squad, we ran in the same circles. While I admit that I have been kind of a male whore since I got to Vegas, Amber was not someone I wanted to mess around with; the girl left me feeling flat, disinterested.
“What? Amber knock it off,” I whispered while I removed her hand from my arm. I tried to say it quietly, I didn’t hate Amber; I just didn’t want to date her. Still, I was raised with manners, so I took care not to embarrass her when I rebuffed her advances.
“Reesy, what’s gotten you in such a poopy mood?” She asked pouting.
I cringed at the nickname. She had called me that since middle school, and it just made sick every time it fell from her lips. I turned to see her bottom lip jutted out. I know most guys would think her pouty act was cute, sexy even. She was the model cheerleader. She had blonde hair past her shoulders, blue eyes, a beautiful body, and a big smile. She was the all-American girl, in the looks department. Even so, somehow I just couldn’t get myself to feel anything for her.
“Leave him alone Amber. I’m sure Reece is daydreaming about a particular freshman,” Ron added laughing.
Ron had been my friend since 6th grade. We had a lot of adventures together, prowled for women together, even shared a few. He was tall and thin; his blond hair and blue eyes gave him a California look that chicks loved.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I grumbled, not really wanting to know his answer. I scooted down the lunch bench, out of Amber’s grabbing distance.
“It’s all over school man. How you collided with the red head in your Lit class this morning,” he informed me grinning.
“Shit.” I ran a hand through my short black hair. “We were both late for class; she came around the corner, and we just smashed together,” I explained.
That got a snort from Ron, “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what the kids are calling it these days. I wonder if she still has the handprints on that ass of hers from you… smashing together.”
I couldn’t help but grin. When we’d collided, I was only trying to break her fall. Since I’m over six feet, and she looked about a foot shorter, I thought I could use my hands to protect her. Of course, the body part I connected with, just happened to be her ass. It was a great ass too. Full and round, and it fit perfectly in both my hands. It took every bit of willpower not to caress or squeeze those luscious globes of hers. Then I saw her hazel eyes shooting daggers at me, and I was a goner.
I had seen Synclair in class and had felt drawn to her from the first day. I would look in her direction, and when she would finally glance up, I would give her my classic Hudson, dimpled smile. I knew I was good looking. Girls had told me that my whole life. My black hair and green eyes gave me a sincere; yet, mysterious quality. I was in good shape from basketball and working on the ranch my parents owned, so I was very secure in my body. So, typically when I flashed my dimples, I got results. That was ordinarily the part when the girl would blush, smile back and practically trip over herself to get to me. That didn’t happen. Synclair looked at me like she wanted to remove my left testicle with a butter knife. I was used to women wanting me; it was quite the moment to have one in my hands that was immune to my charm.
“She wants me. She just doesn’t know it,” I smirked.
Amber looked like she was about to explode. “Reesy doesn’t want her, anyone can tell, she’s mental,” Amber spat at Ron.
Ron didn’t look convinced; he grew up with Amber too, so he was used to her tantrums. “I don’t know Reece. I heard she gave you the death stare and avoids you at every turn.”
I narrowed my eyes at Ron. He was right; she had totally iced me out during class. Then as soon as class was done, she bolted like the devil was chasing her.
“She’s not mental, Amber; she's quiet.” I don’t know why I was defending her, but something told me Synclair was definitely not crazy. The way her hazel eyes assessed me and then dismissed me, had been calculating.
“I think you’ve finally lost your touch Reece; I believe you have found the one chick out there that doesn’t fall for your bullshit,” Ron answered taking me away from a glaring at Amber.
“Yep, I heard you got dismissed,” Ryan threw in as he took a seat next to Ron. Ryan had also come from Carson City; he was also my teammate on the basketball team.
I did not like the smirking grins on my friends’ faces. They loved this. I was Reece Hudson; I was the center for the Running Rebels basketball team, here at the University. My parents had a successful ranching operation in Carson City; I had clothes from all the right places, and I knew women wanted me. Even so, this red-haired spitfire had dismissed me like I was not good enough to breathe her air. Who did she think she was? I was definitely working myself up. I didn’t like being the butt of the jokes going around. I had gotten slaps on my back all day from fellow players and students who had heard the story of my collision and then dismissal by Synclair Patrick.
What was her problem? I was the star player; I was popular. Who was she? Sure, she was cute with her full pink lips and freckles that lightly dotted her nose and cheeks. Her curvy figure was sexy as hell too. Just thinking about it got me hard. She never talked to anyone in class, and when I saw her on campus, she was always alone. Considering that, who the heck was she to dismiss me? My ego actually felt like there was a bruise. Oh no, I was not being taken down by some mouthy, red head.
“I could get her anytime I wanted,” I bragged. Yeah, it was childish, but I couldn’t stand my friends laughing at me.
“Ya wanna bet on that?” Ron asked. Ron was a gambler; he bet on anything, points in a game, pushups he could do, anything.
Still feeling the sting of being dissed, I smiled. “What did you have in mind?”
Ron grinned, “I bet you $500 you can’t get Synclair in bed by the March Madness Basketball Rally,” Ron announced to the table. He almost seemed proud of himself. Jackass!
I knew Ron was banking on the fact that my mother would kill me if she found out I ever treated a woman like a bet. He also knew that despite my whorish ways of late, I had scruples. Nevertheless, something about the opportunity to get Synclair in my bed appealed on some basic, primal level. I looked at Ryan, who stared at me like I was nuts for even considering such a thing. Even Amber looked uncomfortable. Sighing, I shook my head, even I wasn’t such an ass that I would bet on bedding a woman.
“I’ll pass,” I muttered. Ron shrugged and moved on to some other topic of conversation. I didn’t hear anything that he said. My attention was f
ocused on the redhead that had just walked into the cafeteria.
I noticed her immediately. Even with her eyes cast down trying to quietly move through the student union unnoticed, she attracted attention. She had on a pair of denim shorts that showed off her tan, toned legs. It made my mouth water. My eyes moved up to her worn, green tank top. I watched as her breasts strained against the confines of the bra that held them in place. I had to actually hold myself back from walking up to her, ripping off that shirt, undoing that bra and taking one of those full breasts into my mouth. I definitely wanted this woman, and I always got what I wanted.
Pushing up from the table, I made my way over to where she was in the lunch line.
I realized the second she knew I was there. Her whole body went rigid, and her knuckles turned white as she clutched the empty food tray.
“So, what are we having for lunch, babe?” I asked, figuring the “assume the sale” approach would be the right one. I smiled and grabbed a tray from the stack behind her. For a moment, her hazel eyes widened and then narrowed. She made an exaggerated point of looking behind herself, to the left, and then to the right. Then, the little minx turned around and actually ignored me.
What the hell? This doesn’t happen, not to me, not to Reece Hudson; women love me. I heard Ron's chuckle and threw him an agitated glare.
I followed her through the lunch line; she picked soup, so did I; she chose a sandwich, and I did the same. I wasn’t going to let her ignore me. We reached the register, and just as she was pulling out her wallet, I threw down a ten.
“I’m buying her lunch,” I told the register girl. She smiled shyly back at me. See, that was the response I was used to. I was so busy congratulating myself that my mojo was intact that I didn’t even see Synclair grab the ten dollar bill, until she was shoving it against my chest.
Before The Dawn: Prequel to Back to You - Synclair and Reece! See Where It All Began! (A Hudson Family Series- PREQUEL to BACK TO YOU! Book 0) Page 2
