Beneath the Lone Star Heat
anging from her shoulder, the wheels of her suitcase clacking behind her as she crossed the quad. Her jeans clung to her legs, her white blouse already sticking to h
e muttered under her breath, g
o blend in. She was he
, the whispers, and the suffocating small-town expectations had worn her down like desert wind on sandstone. She was the girl who never went
bout her mom's drinking. Or the fire. Or how a seventeen-ye
As someone bright. Someone
nd a building that looked like it hadn't been updated s
the door before
ady pinned up, and a pile of throw pillows in every possi
turned with a squeal. "You must be my roomie!
ked. "Uh, hi.
t to make memories with you. You're gonna love it here-except, heads up, steer clear of f
linked aga
he whirlwind that was Bia
ed a coveted spot as a junior contributor after sending in a five-part investigative series on local corruption
ned the
oss legend, bad boy, and the university's most controversial legacy
nah s
rch bar. Within seconds, a casca
eir Gone Wild" and "Scandal in the Saddle" dominated the results. One article mentioned how he wrecked a $50,000
and close
er the spoiled rich kid with too many fa
-
alone on a bench near the motocro
bleachers was already thick-sorority girls in cutoffs, guys in jerseys, faculty pretendin
e center
i
hen he walked by. The way the other riders looked at him-not with camaraderie b
all, lea
tepped off his bike and sauntered
e was like molasses and gasoline-sm
th The Hornet. I'm supp
s?" He smirked and sat down beside her without waiting for an
," she said, h
ey're exh
e, undeclared major, motocross star, heir to Call
his head,
assuming the answer. You know-'Daddy's money'
his gaze. "
r maybe I just like the speed. The noise. The fa
honest than
tted i
sked, leaning a little
bbo
untry girl. Exp
er foot unde
re pra
am
e him. "Are you a
arm
eara
e it was loud, but because it was real. For
ment, that t
tebook. "I've got
t staying
got ho
head. "Well, I'll be sure to dedicate my
before he coul
-