Almost Never Read online

  Almost Never

  Amy Lamont

  Productive Ink Media

  Contents

  Draft Copy

  Prelude to Harper and Declan

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Draft Copy

  IF YOU RECEIVED THIS COPY OF ALMOST NEVER, YOU’VE GOTTEN A VERY EARLY DRAFT VERSION. PLEASE CONTACT YOUR MERCHANT TO GET THE CORRECT COPY OF THIS BOOK.

  Copyright © 2017 by Amy Bender

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Prelude to Harper and Declan

  DRAFT COPY!!

  IF YOU RECEIVED THIS COPY, YOU RECEIVED A DRAFT COPY. PLEASE CONTACT THE MERCHANT TO GET A CORRECTED COPY OF THIS BOOK.

  October, freshman year

  Harper Warden stood at the bottom of the rickety steps. Her eyes watered from the dingy haze hanging over the concrete room. She scratched the tip of her nose as the stench of stale beer, sweaty bodies, and damp basement threatened to knock her over. What was she doing here?

  “Harper!”

  She turned and her breath hitched. Oh, yeah. That was reason enough to come.

  She bit her bottom lip and fidgeted with the hem of her top as Declan Cooper maneuvered his way through the crowd toward her. He wore a dark gray, long-sleeved shirt with a darker t-shirt layered over it. The layers did little to hide the well-defined muscles of his chest and biceps. He moved with grace despite being a good half a foot taller than most of the people pressed together in the windowless room. And where she slid along the edge of the basement, unwilling to attempt pushing her way through the throng, the crowd seemed to part for him, opening up as he took each step.

  A few people called to him and Declan responded with no more than a tip of his chin. His eyes remained firmly locked on hers.

  He didn’t stop until he stood directly in front of her, so close one deep breath would cause her breasts to brush against his hard body. She tilted her head back to hold the eye contact, and his mouth tilted into a slow, lazy smile.

  A trembling started inside her and she swallowed against her suddenly dry throat.

  His smile widened.

  Did he know the effect he had on her? She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course he knew. He had this effect on the majority of the female population. The only real surprise was that he’d invited her to the party. And that he’d asked her to come to parties a few times over the last few weeks since she’d moved into her dorm, even after she turned him down the first few times.

  Thank God he kept asking. It had taken her the entire two weeks and lots of convincing from her roommate, Jamie, to work up the courage to say yes.

  She inhaled deeply and finally managed to offer him a smile. “Hi.”

  He leaned down close to her ear to be heard over the music blaring from a speaker rigged in one corner. “When did you get here?”

  She shivered as his warm breath floated over her ear. He smelled so good. Even in the dank fraternity house basement, his scent made him almost edible.

  She stood on tiptoe to get her mouth closer to his ear, and had to hang onto his arm to steady herself as she teetered on her heels. “I just got here.”

  He leaned back to smile down at her. “Good. Then none of these other goons had a chance to put the moves on you yet.”

  She smiled shyly, shaking her head.

  “You want a drink? I can get you a beer. Or I think someone made some punch over there.” He gestured to a makeshift bar where a couple of guys were ladling punch into red cups from a green storage container.

  She wrinkled her nose and shuddered. She could only imagine what was in the punch and none of it was appealing.

  “I think I’ll go with a beer.”

  “Coming right up.” He leaned in close again. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  She hugged her arms around herself as he walked towards the keg in the corner. She wanted to pinch herself. Everything about this was so…normal. Hot guy, college party. It was everything she’d dreamed about throughout the hell of high school.

  Was it possible she could leave it all behind just by saying yes to Declan? She closed her eyes and bit her lip to hide the grin that wanted to take over her face. Her heart picked up its pace and tingles of excitement tickled under her skin as she imagined erasing all four years of high school. Could she live like none of it happened—no rumors, no snide comments, no feeling invisible as she walked down a hall?

  Her eyes popped open and she allowed the smile to bloom.

  She scanned the room, content to just watch the party. She recognized a few people from her classes and another girl from her dorm. Some of them even smiled or nodded in her direction. On the makeshift dance floor, a bunch of girls danced together while a couple of the fraternity brothers stood on the sidelines watching over the rims of their cups.

  As her gaze circled back to where Declan had gone, it clashed with a pair of familiar blue eyes. Harper’s hand reached to the side to grip the back of an empty folding chair and a hard knot formed in the pit of her stomach.

  She couldn’t tear her eyes away and soon her look was being returned. Caitlyn Capshaw’s blue eyes narrowed and her face scrunched in displeasure. In an instant, Harper hurtled back to high school, faced with the one person who had always made the safety of anonymity disappear.

  She stood rooted to her spot as Caitlyn snatched the arm of one of the guys standing next to her. She kept her eyes firmly on Harper as she whispered something in the guy’s ear, gesturing to Harper with a jerk of her chin. The guy turned to look at Harper and then pointed out Declan.

  Harper couldn’t look away. She knew what was coming, but the small seed of hope that had just broken through the surface inside her wanted to see these guys shrug off Caitlyn’s bad-mouthing.

  Caitlyn’s lips twisted into the smug smile that had left Harper in a cold sweat all through high school. What was she even doing here?

  Caitlyn leaned up and spoke furiously into the ear of the guy whose arm she had yet to release from her talons. The guy looked back at Harper and raised an eyebrow before turning his attention back to Caitlyn.

  When the other girl finished, she stood back and folded her arms, a self-satisfied smirk on her lips. Over Caitlyn’s shoulder, Declan moved closer, a red plastic cup in each hand, his eyes on Harper.

  She gave him a tentative smile, but before she could do more, his buddy went over and said something to Declan. Declan sipped his beer, his warm brown eyes still focused on her. She leaned slightly forward in her heels, her hands curling together as she waited to see the effect of Caitlyn’s twisted game of telephone.

  It didn’t take long for her to have her answer. Both men looked at her, but now all the warmth had leached from Declan’s eyes. If the cool gaze didn’t tell her all she needed to know, the sardonic smile he offered her before turning away and handing the second cup to Caitlyn said it all.

  Harper took a step back. She dropped both hands to her middle as a black lead ball settled in her stomach.

  She stood, stunned, as her world snapped right back to the way it always was and the party continued around her. She looked around, but with Declan’s obv
ious rejection it seemed she became invisible to everyone.

  Hot tears pricked at the back of her eyes, but she clenched her jaw and refused to let them fall. Letting them see her cry, to know they were getting to her, had been her biggest mistake before. She refused to allow anyone here the same satisfaction.

  Her gaze roamed the party one last time. She smoothed the clingy red material of her shirt, holding her chin up and her jaw firm. She’d be damned if she’d let anyone think she cared about being part of them. She pulled in a shuddering breath and let go of her perfect picture of college before she turned and picked her way back up the rickety basement steps.

  Chapter 1

  October, Junior Year

  HARPER WARDEN SAT in the back corner of the lecture hall waiting for the room to clear. She took her time shutting down her laptop and putting everything back in her messenger bag. She shifted to grab the black hoodie from the back of her chair, trying to ignore the group of girls walking by her desk to get to the aisle.

  “Oh my God, did you see Declan the other night?”

  Harper’s heartbeat picked up speed, but she managed to keep her gaze trained on her desk, her face expressionless as the three girls chatted. Not that any of them bothered to look her way.

  “He was drunk off his ass.”

  “Yes, but what an ass.” One girl fanned herself with a hand, while the other two fell into fits of giggles. The conversation faded as they headed down the stairs, but the giggles continued to float back to Harper.

  Yeah, what an ass. Harper grimaced and pushed all thoughts of Declan Cooper from her mind. He was the last thing she needed to dwell on right now.

  She turned her attention to the podium at the front of the room. A few students stood talking to Professor Costa as he packed his notes and laptop into a battered leather bag. She bit her bottom lip and plopped back down into her seat as she waited for the last of the students to leave. Her gaze remained fixed on the professor. She hoped to catch him alone, but she didn’t want to wait so long to approach him that she missed him entirely.

  A fine trembling started in her hand where it rested on top of her bag. How could a middle-aged guy in a blue striped button down and khaki pants be causing the cartwheels in her belly and the shaking in her body?

  But she knew the answer. This particular man wasn’t just another middle-aged professor in khaki pants. He was the middle-aged professor who held her future in his hands.

  Her hands clenched. She closed her eyes and practiced some deep breathing. At a rustling from up front, she popped her eyes open. The last of the students moved towards the door. And Professor Costa was right behind them.

  She pulled in a deep breath and, leaving her bag on the desk, jogged down the steps to the front of the room.

  “Professor?” Her voice came out on a barely audible squeak. She cleared her throat and reached for his arm just as he was about to step through the door. “Professor!”

  Heat rushed into her face. Her panic turned her voice from a squeak to a desperate yell. Her professor stopped in his tracks and raised an eyebrow at her before shooting a look at the hand she rested on his forearm.

  She snatched it back. “Sorry, sorry.” Shit, shit. What’s wrong with me? “I-I just didn’t want to miss you before you left.”

  “Perhaps coming to the front of the room as soon as class ended would make more sense than making a mad dash from the back of the room as I’m walking out the door, Miss…?”

  “Warden. I’m Harper Warden. I meant to talk to you….” She bit off the rest of whatever she was about to babble and swallowed convulsively. She shook her head. Not off to a stellar start. Her mouth felt like sandpaper and her heart beat against her chest like it was trying to jump out. Shit.

  Professor Costa turned fully towards her, crossed his arms over his chest and stared.

  Now she knew what a bug felt like under a magnifying glass on a sunny day. She wouldn’t be surprised to see smoke coming from her skin. The most important thing she’d ever had to do, her future riding on the outcome of this conversation, and she was fucking speechless. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides while she did her best to pull herself together.

  “The mentor program,” she finally managed to get out between parched lips. “I want to be considered for the mentor program.”

  Thank God. Her shoulders sagged. She’d actually managed to put together a coherent sentence. Now all she had to do was wait for his answer. Her stomach churned.

  Professor Costa stared at her a long moment before turning back to the podium. She followed behind and waited while he threw his bag on the desk and rifled through it without saying a word.

  Harper’s fingers twisted in the string of her hoodie, twirling it around, her skin coming through in bulges of bright red. She focused on the slight pain and tingling that came when she pulled a little harder while he took his time pulling out a spiral bound book and a couple of files. When he began flipping through the book, still without looking at her or saying a word, she gnawed on her bottom lip. He finally looked up just before she drew blood.

  “Your grades are good in my class.”

  Harper quickly untwisted her finger and stood up straighter. She inhaled deeply. This was her chance. She’d speak up for herself if it killed her.

  “All my classes. I have a 3.9 grade point average.” Not like she had a choice. A drop in grades meant having her scholarship yanked.

  He nodded and opened one of the manila files. He flipped through a few pages. “You’re a junior?”

  “Yes.”

  “And your major?”

  “Microbiology.” She bit her lip and focused every bit of energy on not fidgeting.

  He stopped at a page in the file and ran a finger down it. “My T.A. recorded grades for you, all good, but no comments.”

  “Comments?”

  “Comments. I instruct my teaching assistants to write down a few notes during labs. They let me know about any students who make more than a minimal effort to participate. Anyone who takes a discussion in an interesting direction or shows a remarkable aptitude during experiments.” He turned the folder around to show her the page.

  Her name and student number were typed across the top. Below that, a column of numbers. Her grades, a quick glance told her. Beside each number was a large section of white page, the top of which was labeled “comments.” In her case, the page was pristine, not even a few words jotted down.

  Looking at the completely blank side of the page, all that white space, her head felt light, as if she’d taken a double dose of cold medicine.

  “No comments.” Her voice came out as little more than a whisper.

  “No comments.”

  He flipped through the other pages in the folder, fast enough that she couldn’t make out the names at the top. But not so fast she didn’t see that most of the pages had scribbled notes in the comments section.

  “Do I need to have comments to be considered for the mentorship program?”

  “It’s not the only thing I look for, but it does give me an indication of the type of work a student is capable of.”

  She gave a sharp nod and her gaze moved away from him, focusing on the red and white stripes of the American flag in the corner just over his shoulder.

  She pulled in a deep breath through her nose and turned her attention back to her professor. He seemed to be scrutinizing her features, looking for God only knows what, as she squared her shoulders.

  “Is there anything else I can do to be considered?”

  He closed the folder with a snap and started to load his papers and notebooks back into his messenger bag. He kept his attention on what he was doing as he threw questions at her. “You belong to any organizations on campus? Volunteer anywhere? Play any sports?”

  A leaden ball formed in her stomach. She stared at him, now completely mute. She could only shake her head at each question. No volunteering. No sports teams. No club memberships.

  She cleared h
er throat and finally found her voice. “None of those things. I’m here on scholarship. I spend a lot of time focusing on my grades. I can’t afford to let them slip.”

  A humorless laugh fought to make its way up her throat but she bit down hard on the inside of her lower lip, refusing to allow it to bubble up. Had she ever spoken truer words? She literally couldn’t afford to lose her scholarship. Though looking up at her professor, it didn’t seem as if he was clued into her little joke.

  Suddenly, she could feel it. Feel it as clearly as if he’d already spoken the words out loud. This moment, right now, the one she’d hinged all her plans on. It was slipping through her fingers.

  Her mind searched frantically for something to give him. One thing to show him she was up to the challenge of the mentorship program she knew would be her ticket to the medical school of her choice. But she came up blank.

  No comment.

  “Listen,” he said, “for now, it’s going to have to be a no. I’m sorry. But the students I consider for this program need to be standouts. I need to get the sense that they have the potential to make a real impact in the medical field. Right now, I just don’t see that from you.”

  “Stand out?” The laughter was threatening again, this time much closer to the surface. He wanted her to stand out? She’d spent the last two years trying to do anything but stand out. It was the only way to get through each day as she lived through a college experience much different from the one she expected when she first sent her application.

  He nodded. “Last year I accepted three students into the program. They were all involved in several organizations, participated in class, and did special projects. Each one of them was on my radar before they ever approached me about the program.”

  Numbness stole over Harper. He wasn’t going to accept her into his program. She wasn’t on his radar. She turned to go back to her seat, at the last moment looking over her shoulder. “Thank you.”