The Parenthood Pact

Prologue - Freshman Orientation

Devon

I knew three things with absolute certainty on my first morning at St. Jude's College: I was completely lost, my internal navigation system was defective, and the paper map in my hands was an utterly useless.

I turned the crumpled piece of paper upside down, squinting through the crisp September morning air at the towering brick buildings scattered across the quad. The architecture looked like something ripped straight out of a fantasy novel—massive archways, ancient oak trees dropping gold leaves on flagstone paths, and gothic spires that looked ready to host a family of gargoyles. It was intimidating as hell for a guy raised on Boston turf, accustomed to cracked asphalt and dirt-stained jerseys rather than pristine manicured quads.

Had it not been for a merciful campus security officer pointing me toward the east lawn, I'm pretty sure I would've wandered straight into the where I was suppose to be.

"Weatherby Hall is just past the central arch, son," the officer had told me with a sympathetic nod. "Can't miss it."

Turns out, I could. I checked my watch, mentally cursing. Fifteen minutes until my first college lecture, and I was moving at a brisk jog around a stone corner near the main hall. 

I saw the the arch and turned the corner a little too fast—and plowed straight into a wall of pure, unexpected kinetic energy.

The collision echoed off the brick. A sharp gasp, a chaotic rustle of papers, and then the distinct, tragic splash of a full liquid cup meeting organic cotton.

Ice coffee went flying everywhere. The dark brown liquid completely drenched the front of my favorite heather-gray t-shirt, clinging cold and heavy against my chest.

"Oh!"

The girl went down, landing hard on her backside on the stone walkway, her bag spilling its contents like a burst dam—pens, highlighters, crisp spiral notebooks, and loose paper fanning out across the path.

"Ah, man," I blurted out, dropping to my knees. "I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there."

"No, no, it's all my fault," she said quickly, shaking her head as she reached for a scattered stack of index cards. "I wasn't paying attention—I was looking down and—"

She stopped. She looked up at me.

And for three full seconds, the rest of the campus simply ceased to exist.

She had wide, striking honey-colored eyes that seemed to catch every bit of the morning sunlight. A bright, embarrassed blush spread beautifully across her cheeks, dusting her high cheekbones and painting her skin a soft pink. Her wavy caramel highlighted hair was tumbling over her shoulders, and as her gaze met mine, my brain completely short-circuited. I forgot my name, I forgot what class I was looking for, and I completely forgot about the freezing coffee sinking into my skin.

She was, without a single doubt, the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.

Her eyes widened in sudden horror as her gaze dropped down to my chest. The dark, growing stain covered almost the entire front of my shirt. "Oh... oh, no. I feel horrible. I spilled my coffee all over you."

I forced a laugh, trying to drag my brain back online as I reached out to scoop up a stray pink highlighter and a leather-bound binder. "It's an old shirt. No worries at all. Seriously." I offered her a reassuring smile, crouching low on the walkway so I was eye-level with her. "I'm Devon, by the way."

She took the highlighter from my hand, her fingers brushing against mine for a split second. A quick, electric shock went straight up my arm.

"Lexi," she said, giving me a timid, breathtaking smile that made my chest tighten. Then her eyes narrowed with determination as she gestured to my soaked chest. "But I insist on buying you a new shirt in the bookstore. Right now."