Trouble’s What You’re In
Danielle Allen
Copyright
Copyright © 2020 by Danielle Allen
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be copied, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, pirating, or by an information storage and retrieval system - except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or website – without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Editor/Proofreader: Trim & Polish
Cover Design: Cover Me Darling
Cover Photo Credit: Shutterstock
Dedication
The story idea came in 2015.
The cover was purchased in 2017.
The story was written and published in 2020.
This is dedicated to the journey.
Trouble’s What You’re In
Danielle Allen
It was a prank.
It was a stupid prank.
I didn’t know all the details, but the plan seemed simple enough.
Get in.
Get out.
Get even.
My job was to flirt with my crush Aiden Black.
Yeah... THAT Aiden Black.
But the night didn’t go as expected.
I knew the plan, but I didn’t expect it to be more than that.
I knew it was a prank, but I didn’t expect it to be a set up.
I didn’t go looking for love.
I didn’t go looking for trouble.
But somehow, when I ran for my life, I found both.
Chapter One
Pressing my back against the jagged stone of the fraternity house, I made myself as flat as possible. The moonlight glimmered on the surface of the lake creating the only light as I hid in the shadows. Even in dark colors, hidden on the far side of the back of the house, I knew I wasn’t safe. I knew I was in trouble. I had to keep moving, but there weren’t many options. My heart hammered in my chest as adrenaline and fear coursed through my veins.
My ride was gone.
My cell phone was in Carter’s purse.
My options were limited.
Fear gripped me and I tried to control my breathing, but each sharp intake of air noisily slipped through my nostrils. My chest rose and fell quickly as the upstate New York chill strangled me. The unseasonably chilly late September breeze ripped through my cropped jacket, causing me to tremble. With my eyes closed, I prayed that if God could deliver me from my current predicament, I’d make other living arrangements. I swore I’d stop associating with the backstabbing bitches I called teammates.
As soon as I heard a blood curdling scream, I took off running again.
What the hell was that?
Wearing the black, ankle-high boots and a short, olive romper seemed like a good idea when I’d gotten dressed. But I didn’t expect to be running into the wooded area that surrounded three-quarters of the lake. And as I nearly tripped over a dead tree stump and felt branches scraping my legs, I was reminded of why I wasn’t dressed appropriately. I wasn’t prepared for the temperature to drop so suddenly. I wasn’t prepared to run through the woods in heeled boots. I wasn’t prepared for the night to go down the way that it did. And I certainly wasn’t prepared to be swept off my feet.
As I approached the rickety walking bridge, I pushed the knowledge of the rotted wood out of my mind. I ignored the sound of the bridge creaking under my weight with each step. I ran, rejecting the fear that I might not make it to the other side. So, I focused on the object of my affection: Aiden Black.
Son of Hollywood Bad Boy Eddie Black and supermodel Dominica Farber, Aiden was undeniably good-looking. He had his mother’s perfectly coiled dark brown hair and her almondy sun-kissed skin tone. He had his father’s hypnotizing, hazel eyes, thick lashes and personal trainer sculpted body. Although not a celebrity like his parents, Aiden had graced the pages of magazines since birth. He’d been linked to other celebrity kids, actresses, and models up until he transferred to University Falls Institute of Technology in his junior year.
UFIT was a small private school that didn’t have an Ivy League distinction but rivaled those schools in both the quality of education and elitism. Aiden transferred in the second semester and we had Advanced Creative Writing I together. He kept to himself and didn’t talk much so I assumed he’d gotten into UFIT due to a generous donation from his parents. But when we were randomly selected to critique each other’s final essays, I realized that he was incredibly smart and witty.
I liked him when I read his essay.
But I fell for him when I read his critique of mine.
I had hoped to have a conversation with him at the next, and final, class of Advanced Creative Writing I, but his mother was being honored in Paris—where he ended up spending the summer.
I didn’t know much about him until the night of the final when I got wine-drunk and did some research. He was described as a reincarnation of his father, but with his mother’s heart. They called him a womanizing player, but a loyal friend. They said he was insanely good-looking and deeply vain. They portrayed him as a rich snob who was too good for anyone or anything. They called him a dumb privileged kid who was kicked out of his old university for excessive drinking and partying. He was described in numerous contradicting ways by people who didn’t seem to know him personally.
But to be fair, I didn’t know him that well
