King of Hawthorne Prep Read online

  King of Hawthorne Prep

  Jennifer

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  Sucevic

  Copyright 2020 by Jennifer Sucevic

  Kobo Edition

  All Rights Reserved. This book is licensed for your enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

  Cover by Passion Creations

  Also by Jennifer Sucevic

  Claiming What’s Mine

  Confessions of a Heartbreaker

  Don’t Leave

  Friend Zoned

  Hate to Love You

  Heartless

  If You Were Mine

  Just Friends

  King of Campus

  Love to Hate You

  One Night Stand

  Protecting What’s Mine

  Stay

  The Breakup Plan

  The Girl Next Door

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The Girl Next Door

  Heartless

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  My gaze wanders over the water as white-capped waves roll rhythmically toward the sandy shore. When the wind picks up, a warm breeze rustles through my hair and I tip my face toward the sun before stretching.

  Could life get any better than this?

  Doubtful.

  A family friend was kind enough to let us borrow their beach house in Door County for the week. Mom and Dad surprised us with the impromptu vacation a few days before we were supposed to leave.

  The house we’re staying at isn’t one of the newly renovated million-dollar monstrosities that flank us on both sides with their gargantuan square footage, swanky pools, and perfectly groomed lawns. But it’s steps from the beach and has breathtaking views of Lake Michigan. This house is fifteen hundred square feet with three cramped bedrooms, an outdated kitchen, and a ton of seashell decor. Even so, there’s something charming about it.

  Sweat beads my forehead as I haul myself from the chair I’m sprawled on and saunter to the water’s edge. It might look as inviting as the Caribbean cast in varying shades of cerulean and turquoise, but it doesn’t feel like it. Especially when my skin has been crispifying for hours beneath the sweltering sun.

  A breath hisses from my lips as the frigid liquid rushes past my ankles. The first couple steps are the worst. As soon as numbness sets in, it gets better. Braving the water, I continue forward as the waves swirl around my calves. I do a little dance, bouncing up and down on my toes, trying to get used to the cold as it sinks into my bones.

  I force myself to move deeper until the water reaches my hips.

  It’s now or never.

  With that brief pep talk, I suck in a breath and dive beneath a wave as it peaks and curls. Water rushes around me, instantly chilling my overheated flesh. After a moment, I break through to the surface and expel the lungful of air from my body.

  It’s easier to submerge myself the second time as I dive to the bottom before trailing my fingers through the fine-grained sand in search of clamshells. When my lungs burn, I pop up again before floating on the surface so the sun can warm my skin. With my eyes closed, I stretch my hands and legs, allowing the waves to rock my body. My mind drifts as the rhythmic motion lulls me to a contented place. Every once in a while, I lift my head and search for our little blue one-story cottage to make sure I haven’t drifted to far down the shore.

  My plan is to make the most of our little beach vaca before returning to Chicago next weekend. There’s so much that needs to be accomplished before senior year begins in the fall.

  A couple of months ago, I registered for an introductory astronomy class at a local university about thirty minutes from the house. Next on the agenda are campus visits. I’ve scheduled tours for the University of Chicago, Northwestern, and the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. Those three are my dream schools. All have impressive astronomy programs. To round out the summer, I’ve snagged a volunteer position at the Adler Planetarium. I’m scheduled to start next Monday at nine o’clock sharp.

  Long after my fingers turn pruney, I drag myself from the water. As I trudge toward shore, a bleached clamshell glints in the sunlight from the bottom and catches my attention. Stilling my movements, I bend over to inspect it. A wave crashes over me, stirring up the sand and covering the shell. Once the debris settles, I turn, brushing my fingers across the bottom until they land on it again.

  “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.
<
br />   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.