Out of Line: Out of Line #1

I leaned against the wall and surveyed the crowded room. All around me, people were in pursuit of the three majors of college: getting drunk, getting laid, and then getting even drunker. They were shouting in each other’s ears to be heard over the deafening music, sucking on each other’s body parts, or throwing up in a corner. The overachievers would do all three by the time the night ended.

It was freshman year at its finest—and I was the only freshman not fitting in.

But at least no one had been paid to hang out with me at this party. When I was twelve, my father had thrown me a huge birthday party. The turnout had been particularly surprising to me, considering the people who came were the same girls who told me what a loser I was while in school. Of course, as soon as my parents left the room to get cake, the girls had backed me in a corner and pulled at my hair and dress. They had told me that I was such a loser my father had to pay their parents to make them come. Susie had gotten an iPod. Mary received a phone. Chrissie—a pony.

I had gotten a cold, hard dose of reality.

A tall guy bumped into me, hauling me out of memory lane. His beer tipped and spilled all over my open-toed sandals. The cool liquid was almost a welcome change from the stifling hotness.

Oh, shit. I’m sorry. He dropped to his knees and started patting at my feet with the closest object he could get his hands on. It looked like a shirt. I wasn’t watching where I was going.

I laughed and shook my head, dropping a hand on his shoulder. He felt a tiny bit sweaty, but who could blame him? It was freaking hot. Don’t worry about it. Seriously.

No, it’s not. He lifted his head and his eyes went wide. Oh, fuck. Do I know you?

My smile slipped a little bit, but I forced it back into place. He wouldn’t recognize me. I had been out of the public eye for well over a year, and I’d made sure to change my appearance quite a bit. I also had much longer hair, and my body finally grew into itself. My braces were gone, and I outgrew those god-awful bangs, too. I liked to think I didn’t look anything like the gawky girl I’d once been.

Please, God.

No, I don’t think so. But don’t worry about my feet. It’s not a big deal. I was just leaving anyway.

He stood up. Are you sure?

Positive. I smiled at him, hoping my sincerity showed. Thank you, though.

He gave me one more smile and headed back toward the bar. I watched him go before I worked my way across the room. I needed to get out and breathe some fresh air. Somehow I even managed to make it through the crush without spilling my Coke. As I pushed through the door, the ocean breeze washed over me, immediately calming my pounding heart.

One thing I hadn’t managed to change about myself in my big transformation: I still didn’t do well in crowds. I never should have listened to my new roommate, Marie. I had only been at the University of California in San Diego for two days and had already been invited to four parties. I’d turned down all but this one. It wasn’t because I was a prude or anything. I just didn’t like the craziness that parties entailed.

After all, I had ultimately picked this campus because the occupational therapy program was excellent—not because of the parties. It also had the added bonus of being on the beach and as far away from my parents as I could possibly manage without leaving the country. They were great, and I loved them, but man, they liked to smother me. The hold me down kicking and screaming as I tried to break free type of smothering.

That was the last thing I needed at this point in my life. I needed to try to be on my own. To try to make my own place in the world. And for once I was really, truly on my own…outside of a raging party that I didn’t belong in, hiding in dark shadows that hid only God knew what.

But still. Awesome.

I kicked off my sandals and trudged down the sandy hill to the dark beach, sinking my toes into the chilly sand. Probably not the best combination with the beer bath I had just taken, but whatever. My mom and dad had never let me walk barefoot in the sand. It was too unclean, and syringes might be buried deep down—plus other unmentionable items Mom blushed just thinking about. She couldn’t even say the word condom for cripes sake.

I was convinced I must have been conceived via subliminal messaging or something. My parents were far too proper to do the down and nasty. Too proper to walk barefoot on a dark, scary beach. And I was supposed to be the same. Grinning, I dug in even deeper, loving the way the sand felt between my toes.

I scanned the shadows and found a bench a few feet away. When I sat down, I swung both of my bare feet in the air and let out a deep sigh. There was probably a homeless guy sleeping a few feet away from me in the darkness, but I didn’t give a hoot. I was alone, in front of the ocean, listening to the waves crash on the sand.

For the first time since coming here, I felt at peace. Maybe I could fit in. There had to be some people here who were like me—a little bit dorky and a lot awkward. The door opened behind me, and the sound of heels clacking on the pavement interrupted my thoughts. Carrie? Are you out here?

Yeah. Over here, I called out.

Are you trying to get mugged?

No. Just trying to find a homeless guy to fall in love with, I replied, keeping my voice light. So far, no one wants me.

Whatever, Marie said, snorting. After a few moments, she stood in front of me, heels in hand and hands on hips. Marie frowned at me from behind a veil of perfectly arranged blonde hair, which blew in the ocean breeze. You totally bailed on me.

I flinched. Yeah. I kind of had. Sorry. In my defense, I did tell you parties aren’t my thing.

That’s something girls say when they don’t want to seem like sluts. Marie waved a hand and shoved her hair out of her face. Within seconds, it was back. "I didn’t think you actually meant it meant it."

Well, I did. I swung my legs some more, trying to distract myself from the righteous anger being thrown my way. You can go back in. I just needed some air.

Will you be back?

Maybe. I blew out a breath. No.

Marie’s light blue eyes pierced into me. Are you going to be like this all year long? I like you and all, but you’re kinda lame.

I’ll try not to be, I said as honestly as I possibly could. Because I would try to be sociable and outgoing and not so lame. I would probably fail. But it will be a while till I’m there.

Marie rolled her eyes and fluffed her hair with her hand. Well, hurry up. I’m not going to be lame with you as you struggle to adulthood.

"You don’t have to do anything. Go back to the party. I shooed her away, a smile on my face. I kind of want to be alone with my homeless boyfriend."

Marie eyed me, the hesitation clear in her eyes and the way she held her weight on one foot, the other slightly lifted. Are you sure?

More positive than a proton.

Oh my God. Never say that again.

I laughed. Fine. Now go have fun.

Okay. Marie hugged me tight, and her hair tickled my nose. But next time, you stay whether or not you want to. Enough lameness.

I watched her go. We were complete opposites, but maybe it would make us great roommates. Marie might be the person to pull me out of my self-imposed shell, and I could make sure Marie studied as hard as she partied. It had the makings of a win-win situation. Maybe. Of course, it could be a complete and utter disaster too.

But I was trying to be optimistic, thank you very much.

I leaned back against the park bench, letting out another sigh. I would sit here for another minute before I headed back to my room. Once I got there, I’d curl up with a good romance book with my current book boyfriend and pretend the real world didn’t exist for a little while. It would be the perfect Saturday night…for a sixty-year-old woman.

Lame, lame, lame.

After a couple of seconds of pure relaxation, I stiffened. Someone moved in the shadows. I almost missed it, but out of the corner of my eye I caught movement. Who was out here with me? If Dad were here, he’d be saying it was a druggie desperate for his next hit. He’d sic his private security team on whoever dared to walk near him. I used to go back to the spot and give whoever had been held back by my father’s team some money. One of Dad’s security officers would go with me.

But I wasn’t my father, and I refused to jump to the worst conclusions. I stood up and crept toward the shadows, my heart in my throat and my legs feeling less than steady. My mind screamed at me to turn around and run home, but I ignored it.

H-Hello? I called out, but it sounded more like a croak than a word. I licked my lips and swallowed hard, taking another step toward the ocean. Is anyone there?

Nothing but the waves crashing. I hesitated. Someone was there. I knew it. I know you’re out there. You might as well come out. If you don’t, I’ll…I’ll call the cops.

I held my breath, waiting to see if the hidden person would call my bluff and come out. After a few seconds, a shadowed form stepped forward. As the shadow grew closer, I realized it was a man. A guy who stood at least six feet tall and had muscles that I thought only existed in the romance books I read.

He had to be a couple years older than me, maybe a senior, and he had on a pair of cargo shorts and nothing else. Hot damn, he obviously worked out. A lot. He had short, curly brown hair, and he looked harmless enough. But those muscles…

Okay, when I goaded the guy out of hiding, I hadn’t been expecting a freaking bodybuilder to walk out of the shadows. I backed up a step, biting down on my lower lip. Who are you, and why are you hiding in the shadows?

He had a black tattoo of some sort on his flexed bicep. Wait. Scratch that. He had tattoos pretty much from his elbows up and all across his shoulders and pecs. Hot. Really hot. This was the type of guy Dad kept me away from. He had bad boy written all over him. In numerous ways.

He rubbed the back of his neck and stepped closer, towering over me. "Who are you, and why are you hiding in shadows?"

I blinked and forced my eyes away from his ink. I wasn’t. I was sitting on the bench.

Maybe I was too, before you came out. He grinned at me. Maybe you stole my seat.

Did I?

Maybe.

I shook my head and tried not to smile, but it was hard. For some reason, I liked this guy. You like that word, don’t you? I held my hand up when he opened his mouth to answer. Let me guess. Maybe?

He laughed, loud and clear. I liked the sound of it. Perhaps.

Oh my God, he says something else. I held a hand to my forehead. I might be imagining things.

"Hm. You do look a little flushed."

Probably because an off-the-radar hot guy was talking to me. Maybe even flirting? Crap. I had no idea. The last time a normal boy had flirted with me, Dad had his security team drag him out of the mall by both arms. I had no doubt this guy would get the same treatment if he ever crossed paths with Dad. I do?

He stepped closer and bent down, his eyes at level with mine. They were blue. Really, really blue, with little specks of darker blue around the pupil. People were always telling me that I had the prettiest blue eyes in the world. They were wrong. This guy did.

Yep. Definitely flushed.

I cleared my throat and tucked my hair behind my ear. Until I remembered it was in a ponytail. Then I ended up kind of rubbing against my ear, trying to make it look like I’d meant to do that. And probably failing miserably. I’m fine.

I didn’t say you weren’t. He backed off and smoothed his brown hair, but it bounced right back into perfect disarray. He headed for the bench I had been sitting on and lowered himself onto it. So, tell me. Why are you outside instead of partying inside?

I followed him, scooted my shoes between us to maintain a safe distance apart, and then sat down on the edge of the bench. Uh…I needed some fresh air. And this party is a little bit too crazy for my tastes. The frat boys are a little crazy too.

He nodded. So, you new here?

Yeah. I’m a freshman. After smoothing the stupid skirt Marie had conned me into wearing, I looked at him. Do you go here?

Yeah, I’m a senior. He cocked his head toward the house. And I’m in that frat.

Oh. I looked down at my lap. So I’d insulted his friends. Great. Just great. I’m sure it’s a lot of fun.

He grinned. Even though they’re crazy?

Uh, sure. I smiled back at him, but inwardly flinched. It was too late to tell him that the guys were perfectly normal. I was broken—not them. But I would look even more like an idiot than I already did if I told him I’d left because of my own lameness. Maybe I’ll give it another chance.

He chuckled. Not tonight, though, right?

Nope. Not tonight. I played with the hem of my skirt. I’m all partied out. I drank too much.

He looked at my cup. You better watch yourself. A lot of guys will take advantage of a girl who drank too much.

But not you?

His eyes darkened, but he looked away. Not me.

It was a pity. I’d never been taken advantage of by anyone, but if I was going to be used, I’d prefer he be the one doing it. I kind of snort-giggled at the thought, earning a weird look from him. Oh well. He wasn’t exactly the first person to shoot me that look. Then I guess I’m in good company.

He shrugged. You should go home and sleep it off.

It’s only eleven, I argued. I conveniently ignored the fact that I’d been planning on going home mere moments before. That had been before him. Why would I go to bed already?

He looked at me, running his gaze up and down my body. You look like the type of girl who’s used to playing by the rules. Good girls go to bed early.

I was, but I was also freaking sick of being that girl. All my life, Dad had neatly moved me around on his chessboard, a pawn to his own plans. I was done being a pawn. I wanted to be the queen of my own life from now on.

Leaning in, I caught his gaze. He stiffened, a light shining in his eyes I didn’t fully comprehend. Maybe I’m the type of girl who’s sick of living by the rules and who’s ready to have some fun.

When she leaned in close to me like that, I gripped my thighs. I felt ridiculously out of place right now. I was in a pair of board shorts, pretending to be a carefree surfer dude so that my overprotective, needs-therapy boss could rest easily while his perfectly capable daughter attended college. I didn’t even have my gun on me. And to top it off? Carrie was a cute little thing who was looking at me as if she wanted nothing more than to crawl all over me.

I needed to get close to her, but not that close. Even if I wanted to.

Her soft red hair reminded me of Scarlett Johansson as Black Widow. I had always had a thing for her—what kind of hot-blooded American man hadn’t at one point or another? I especially liked her when she carried a kick-ass gun and wore black spandex and boots. It wasn’t a far stretch of my imagination to picture Carrie in Scarlett’s getup. Her short skirt left little to the imagination, and I wanted her. Bad.

I’d never had such an instant attraction to someone before. The type that demanded I find a way to get her in my arms, naked and writhing, before the end of the month, but I couldn’t have her. I forced myself to picture Senator Wallington’s face instead of Carrie’s. That should help. I think you look like a good girl who wants to try her hand at being a bad girl.

Maybe. She shrugged. But maybe not. You don’t know anything about me.

Ah, but I did. I had her file memorized. And I’d been watching her from the shadows all night long. I also knew enough about her to know she hadn’t been drinking tonight. Knew enough to know the real reason she wasn’t inside was because she hated crowds. She hadn’t been to any real parties until now. And I knew her father was controlling enough to send an undercover agent to watch his nineteen-year-old daughter fumble her way through freshman year.

One thing I knew about repressed girls who went away to college: They went all Girls Gone Wild on crack as soon as they got even the slightest taste of freedom.

The girl was looking for trouble with a capital T. Even I could see that.

She licked her plump, red lips and met my eyes. So, you going to your room or staying out here with me?

Oh yeah. Trouble indeed. I shifted in my seat. The girl had no idea what kind of attention she was welcoming. She might only be a couple of years younger than me, but even so, she had off limits stamped across her forehead. I forced a lighthearted laugh. Something I suspected a California boy would do. Hell, something I’d once done. I don’t really live here. I was fucking with you.

Oh. Her brow furrowed. Which dorm do you live in?

None. I grinned at her, even though my cheeks hurt from smiling so damned much. I don’t even go here. I’m just a surfer who lives nearby. Can’t afford the fancy education.

That much had once been true, at least. When I’d been eighteen, I couldn’t afford the tuition. That’s why I had enlisted in the Marines. My plan had been to use the GI Bill to earn my degree, but I hadn’t gotten to that point in my life yet. As it was, I had shadowed my father’s footsteps and joined the Marine reserves fresh outta high school. I had been