The budget hotel is an easy one-mile walk to central campus. The miserable weather from last night has retreated and, in its wake, a refreshing sunny day has settled in, the sneaky cool winter breeze tangling my hair. I think I miss the rain now. There's a certain soothing quality to it after having your heart violently smashed to pieces.

My classes start in an hour and while I usually look forward to them, this time they fill me with dread. The last thing I want to do right now is endure four hours of back-to-back lectures, but I drag myself to class anyway in hopes that it will distract from the shitshow that happened last night.

When I've found a place to sit in the amphitheater, I use the screen on my phone to check my reflection. I'm appalled by how terrible I look. My skin is sickly pale. My hazel eyes are glassy with the lack of sleep, with huge dark circles dragging my face down. It probably would have been a good idea to slap on some concealer around my eyes, but waking up sporting a raging headache had immediately dissolved any desire to doll myself up. So I guess the end result is partially my fault.

I drop my phone back in my bag, determined not to dwell on my appearance any longer. Instead, I poke my head back up, scanning the growing sea of students filing into their seats, and notice my favorite person right now giving me a thorough wave as he enters the hall.

I haven't known Brent long, but since meeting him on my first day last term, he's grown to be the best thing that's ever happened to this physics class. We like to share each other's notes—or, to be more specific, he shares his notes with me—and exchange cheesy pickup lines to get through the day. I'm not sure how this contributes to a degree in human physiology, but at least it makes the lectures easier to stomach.

"Are you my textbook? Because seeing you is the absolute highlight of my day right now," I say, almost like a sigh of relief, as he slides into the seat next to me.

"You better hope I am," Brent says, letting loose a dramatic sigh as he drops his bag in the available space on the floor beside him and jerks the bag's front zipper open. "Though I'm not functioning well today."

"What? Why?"

"Because I believe you've stolen a pizza my heart." He grins as he whips back to me, revealing a container with the lid peeled off and a couple slices of pepperoni pizza tucked inside. "I managed to cop several slices from the food sale today. I know you're always busy with work and stuff, but you up for some lunch later?"

"That's nice of you to offer but I'll take a rain check," I say, not wanting to elaborate further. But it's not enough to quell his curiosity. His eyes bulge in surprise when he takes a good look at my face.

"What the hell happened to you?" His eyebrows rush together. "You look like you got stomped on by Godzilla."

"Thanks." I try to swallow down the all-too-candid observation. "I found out that my boyfriend has been sleeping with my sister, so there's that," I say, albeit a little bit too harshly. "And then I lost my apartment because she's staying there and I can't really look at her face without wanting to bash it in."

"Holy shit." His mouth hangs open in shock as he processes the news. "That sucks. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. I'll deal," I say, even though I doubt I believe what I'm saying.

"What are you going to do now?"

I bite my lip in contemplation. "I was planning to check if there are any available places to rent on campus after class but . . . I don't know. Term's just started, so I doubt there's anything."

He frowns, the thick-rimmed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose falling slightly. "Well . . . if you're looking for places off campus, I know someone who's renting out a room in Allston for, like, 500?"

"Seriously?" I ask. There's no way a room in Allston would cost that little. "Sounds like a scam to me."

"It's not," Brent assures me. "It's just . . . not about the money for him."

Interesting. Well, it wouldn't hurt to take a look, I guess.

"Fine. Let me check it out. Where do I find him?"

He peels off a Post-it note and scribbles down a name and an address. Then he slaps the note on my keyboard.

"His name's Kayden," he tells me. "But be careful, all right? He can be . . . intense."

Intense? Doesn't sound very promising.

"You're not sending me to a serial killer's house, are you?" I lift the Post-it to my face and trace the words on it with my eyes.

Kayden Williams? Rings a few bells. Julian might have mentioned him before. I'll have to ask him about it later.

"You'll be fine," Brent says, though a little hesitantly. "I think."

I wait for him to deny that Kayden's a serial killer but the words don't come. It amplifies my wariness.

"All right . . ." My voice trails off. "Any tips to get on his good side?"

Brent pauses for a second to think.

"Don't be yourself," he offers helpfully.

I snort. "Okay. Got it."

I hope I do get it. I'm not sure if I can survive another night being homeless.

***

Done with my classes for the day, I peel the note from my laptop and punch the address into my phone. Google Maps tells me that it's a twenty-five minute walk to Kayden's apartment. Not bad, though it could be worse. Mine and Beth's apartment was an agonizing forty minute walk to anywhere remotely close to the city, so we usually either took the T or just car pooled with Jax.

My jaw clenches hard as the thought of them slices through my mind. I had woken up to a barrage of missed calls and texts in the morning; most of them are from Beth asking if she could meet up with me to explain everything, and that she misses me and wants me to come home. After skimming through some of them, I decide to block her number, not wanting to get emotional about seeing her name light up my phone again. I want to hate her right now, not feel guilty for abandoning her and ignoring her messages. There are also several messages from my dad asking me to call him, and I'm hoping he's not going to try to convince me to make amends with Beth.

I check my call history again. At least Jax hadn't bothered with the call spamming. He probably thinks I'll be the one who caves in first and calls. Jax holds his ego too close to beg for me to come back. His detached nature was one of the things I used to admire about him, simply because there was nothing that could faze him. He was confident—often to the point of brazen arrogance—but it sure made him invincible to everyone around him.

Not this time.

I know there aren't a lot of things that Jax cares about—in fact, I used to be the only thing that he ever cared about, apart from fighting. Jax lives and breathes MMA. We used to train together at UFG, and all those sessions with him was what inspired me to take up training as a professional career.

If I really wanted to get back at him, I could go head to head with him in the cage. I'd maybe even win a round. But he's still got a hundred pounds on me and the fight wouldn't be fair with our physiological differences. It won't prove much other than the fact that I can barely hold my own in a fight against him.

It's going to be tough figuring out how to hit him where it'll hurt the most. I just need time to plan my next move.

Staring up at the exposed red brick exterior of the apartment complex, I soak the feeling of comfort and ease up eagerly as I slip through the gates and into the elevator. I hope Kayden's home. Brent didn't tell me what time he finishes his classes, so if he's not around I guess I'll have to wait until he returns.

I hear loud clicking of what sounds like heels against the concrete echo from the floor below me, and I peer over the ledge to see who it is. A mess of strawberry-blond hair bounces into my view as a woman leaves her apartment with her phone squashed between her ear and her shoulder.

"Are you guys coming home for dinner tonight? Simon's cooking lamb ragù and he wants to know how many portions to cook. And I'm asking now so Daniel doesn't get a chance to complain that we didn't cook some for him," she asks whoever's on the other end, loudly enough for everyone in the apartment building to hear.

She pauses for a moment, tips her head back to feign a loud laugh—a sultry and beautiful sound that fits her sharp, striking face—and continues with her chatter. After a while, I notice her end her call and walk to the elevator.

"Hi, excuse me, um," I say, quickly intercepting her at the stairs beside the elevator before she disappears from view. Her head tilts up upon hearing me. "I was wondering if you can help me? I'm looking for apartment 4-B but it's not between 4-A and 4-C."

She nods in understanding, climbing up the stairs to meet me at my level. "Yeah, that's cause it's behind there." She points to the little corner to the far left of me, blocked by a half wall.

"Oh right. Thanks," I murmur before stepping in the direction she gestured to.

"Hey, wait." Her voice stops me in my tracks. I whirl around and see her catching up to me, her Louboutins barely able to keep up with her legs. "Sorry. I didn't catch your name."

"Sienna."

She beams at me and sticks her hand out confidently. "I'm Cara. Nice to meet you. We don't get a lot of new people around here."

"Yeah. I'm actually checking out a space here," I tell her. "I heard this guy was renting out a room so . . ."

"Right." Her eyes flicker briefly toward the 4-B unit and a frown marks her lips. "Well, be careful. The guy who lives there . . . he's not so friendly. Tried offering him cookies once when he moved in. Took them and slammed the door in my face. My boyfriend, Simon, finds him superweird." When she registers the doubt on my face, her facial expression perks up into a reassuring smile in compensation. "But I'm sure you'll have better luck, though."

I like her optimism. It's been a while since I've encountered someone who has the same kind of radiant energy as hers. And she's undeniably gorgeous. Bright, gleaming face with angular cheekbones, a pair of plump lips, and a long, slender body to match. I would kill for her metabolism, to be able to keep a figure like that.

"Okay, then!" She clasps her hands together, as if she can't stand the small moment of silence. "Hope to see you around more. Might even introduce you to my roommate, Alex, if we ever bump into each other again. I think you'd like her a lot."

"Sure," I say awkwardly.

"Bye, Sienna." Her eyes crinkle with joy as she waves good-bye, her fingers wriggling like a posh socialite's.

I walk in the direction she pointed and face the door in front of me. I haven't even knocked on Kayden's door yet and he already makes me nervous.

Mustering up the courage, I tap my fist against the door. I hear shuffling inside the apartment and footsteps growing closer before the door flies open and a tall, dark-haired man steps out.

I'm immediately startled by how good looking he is. His form is magnificent: broad shoulders, huge arms, and a lean, ripped body with swirls of tattoos peeking out from the edges of his black shirt. My gaze then gets pulled up to his strong collarbone, hard jawline, and angled cheekbones, and finally lands on his eyes. They're a deep shade of grey—intense and quiet and magnetic. I've seen those eyes before. I'm not well acquainted with them, but I have a feeling I've felt them watching me, stealing glances, though it's hard to remember where.

Kayden's thick eyebrows rise in mild annoyance as he waits for me to say something.

I clear my throat and straighten myself up.

"Hi." I plaster on the widest smile I can muster. Smiling feels so weird after how dead I've been feeling inside since last evening. "I'm Sienna. Brent said that you were renting out a room. Is that right?"

He looks at me warily. "Yes."

"You mind if I take a look around?" I'm already moving forward but Kayden blocks the doorway with a strong arm.

"No."

"What?" I say, confused. Did I miss something from him between the first and second question I asked? "I don't understand. Is the room already rented?"

"No."

"Okay. Then, can I come in?"

Kayden pauses for a while. Glowering. Then, the dreaded word arrives again.

"No."

The skin between my brows crease with confusion.

What the hell is going on?

"Is no just, like, your favorite word or is there another reason why I can't rent a room from you?" I ask, annoyance flaring up my skin.

Kayden shakes his head. "None that you need to know about. Just find somewhere else to live."

He starts to close the door but my quick reflexes propel me to wedge my foot between it and the door frame.

"Wait, please," I say desperately. "Maybe I caught you at a bad time, but . . . " I swallow hard, my voice lowering in embarrassment. "I'm in a really tough spot here."

I expect at least some form of hesitation, but to my surprise, the decisiveness remains.

"Not my problem," Kayden snaps. His eyes scroll up and down the length of my body and he swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he does. "I don't want any complications."

"Complications?" I take a step back, pausing to let his words sink in for a bit. Then my eyebrows relax when I figure out what he means. "Oh. I mean, I get that I'm hot, but trust me, you're not my type either."

"That's not what I mean," he says sharply.

"Of course that's what you mean," I shoot back with indignation. "Unless you're afraid of girl cooties?"

I can't believe those words just left my mouth. But it's the only reason I can think of that would warrant his shitty behavior toward me.

"No. Of course not." A dark look hardens Kayden's features. "I just think you're trouble. Trouble that I don't need," he says, like it's a stated fact.

"Seriously?" I arch a brow, my annoyance deepening.

What a weird thing to say to someone he doesn't even know. Maybe he recognizes me from somewhere before. From campus, maybe, or UFG. Or he's just a judgmental prick. Either way, it's clear he's not changing his mind about his assumption either. I don't think anything would convince him otherwise.

Do I even want to? His rudeness toward me is so off-putting that it feels like too much of an effort to attempt swaying him again. There's only so many times I can beg before it'll seem too pathetic.

And I'm not going to stoop that low.

"You know what? Fine," I say in finality, tugging on the strap of my bag. "Have it your way, jerk. I'm sure there are plenty of other places I can live in."

The muscles in Kayden's face ease, and he looks almost relieved at me conceding.

"Good-bye, Sienna." He sighs, his hand clutching the door. "Don't come back. Ever."

And he proceeds to slam the door in my face.