Chapter 1 Waking Up To The Wrong Man

• Nora Calloway's eyes shot open.
• The heat of the fire choked her throat. She smelled burning ash. She felt the searing pain.
• She gasped for air. She coughed hard.
• Her vision was blurry. She blinked against the bright light.
• Was she dead?
• Was this hell?
• Did the fire take her life?
• Her chest rose and fell in heavy waves. Her hands clawed at the bedsheets.
• She waited for the darkness to return. Instead, the room stayed still.
• Her eyes started to focus. A broad, tanned chest blocked her view.
• Fresh red scratches marked his skin. Her breath hitched.
• She looked down at her own arms. She wore nothing.
• A strong pair of arms held her tight against a warm body.
• Nora froze completely. Her heart dropped into her stomach.
• She slowly raised her head. She locked eyes with a cold, sharp gaze.
• It was Miles Rhodes.
• He was staring right at her. He had been awake for a long time.
• His hair was a messy gold-brown. His jawline was sharp. His brow bone was high and bold.
• He was the star of the campus. He was a billionaire heir and the captain of the university hockey team. He spent his life dominating the ice rink.
• Everyone at M University knew his name. Everyone knew his massive size and his terrifying reputation on the ice.
• Miles kept his grip locked on her waist. One of his heavy legs rested over hers.
• He held her like a trap. He acted like she might vanish into thin air.
• The contrast was stark. His dark tan skin pressed right against her pale skin.
• Miles let out a cold, sharp laugh. His voice sounded deep and lazy from sleep.
• "What?" he asked, his voice hoarse. "Disappointed it's not your fiancé?"
• Nora did not answer. Her mind spun out of control.
• Miles scanned her bare skin with his eyes. He looked at her face.
• He saw the tear tracks on her cheeks. He saw her pale skin and her wide, terrified eyes.
• She looked like she had seen a ghost.
• Miles frowned. He thought she was crying over Dylan. He thought she felt guilty for cheating on her precious fiancé.
• A bitter taste filled his mouth.
• Last night felt unreal. The memory made his body burn.
• The way she felt in his arms was better than any hockey game he ever played. But she hated him. She always ran away from him.
• She always chased after Dylan instead.
• Miles felt a dark rage build in his chest. His grip on her waist tightened until it hurt.
• If she wanted to play games, he would play back.
• "What's wrong, Nora?" he sneered. "Can't bear to get out of my bed?"
• He expected her to scream. He expected her to cry and punch his chest.
• He waited for her to slap his face. He relaxed his jaw to take the hit.
• He braced himself for a full breakdown.
• Nora did not move for thirty whole seconds. Then she slowly raised her hands.
• She reached up toward his neck.
• Miles stayed still. Did she want to choke him out?
• He let her do it. He watched her with cold eyes.
• Then she burst into loud tears.
• She wrapped her arms tight around his neck. She climbed straight onto his lap.
• She pressed her face into his chest. She smashed her lips onto his mouth and kissed him hard.
• Miles froze. His brain stopped working.
• The sun shone through the windows. The quiet room turned into a storm.
• Their clothes lay scattered across the floor. They tangled together on the massive bed.
• The room was dark. Only a sliver of daylight cut through the heavy curtains.
• They moved from the mattress to the cold glass of the balcony door. The sound of rain hit the glass outside.
• Miles pressed his bare chest against her. His heavy arms locked her in place.
• His body heat was too much. Nora felt like she might pass out.
• Pale skin mixed with tan skin for hours. Nora cried out in a soft voice.
• She shook her head against his shoulder. She whispered against his skin.
• "No... stop."
• "Please... don't do it anymore."
• Her words broke apart. She could not catch her breath.
• Miles heard her soft begging. It only made him worse.
• He leaned down close to her ear. He laughed low in the dark.
• "You can do it," he murmured.
• Then he pushed her harder.
• Nora woke up again at noon.
• The bed was empty. Miles was gone.
• She sat up and looked around the quiet suite. Her mind was crystal clear.
• This was not a dream. She did not go to hell.
• She went back in time.
• She was a sophomore again. This was the exact day after the accident with Miles.
• In her past life, she ran away crying. She thought Miles ruined her life.
• She thought he forced himself on her while she was drunk. She slapped him and cursed at him.
• She pushed him away every single day after that. That was why he grew so cold and harsh toward her.
• But it was all a lie.
• Years later, after she lost her sight, she found out the truth. Miles never forced her. Someone else set the whole thing up.
• Nora pushed the heavy blanket off her legs. She stood up and walked toward the bathroom.
• Her lower back ached with every step. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
• Red marks covered her skin. She looked away fast and rushed into the shower.
• She washed up and stepped back out.
• Her dead phone sat on the nightstand. She plugged it into the charger.
• The screen flickered to life. A row of missed calls popped up at once
• She ignored them all. Then a new call came in.
• The name flashed on the screen: Dylan Foster.
• Her fiancé.
• A wave of pure hatred hit her chest. Her hands shook as she stared at his name.
• She took a deep breath. She swiped the screen and hit accept.
• "Hello," she said.
• Her voice sounded rough. But Dylan did not notice.
• The second the call connected, he started screaming down the phone.
• "Nora! Where the hell were you last night?!"
• "Why was your phone dead? Why didn't you text me back? Zoe is in distress! Get down to the dance studio right now!"
• He did not wait for an answer. He hung up the phone with a loud click.
• Nora pulled the phone away from her ear. She stared at the blank screen.
• In the past, she would have panicked. She would have run straight to him and apologized.
• She would have let him yell at her while carrying heavy guilt in her chest.
• Not anymore.
• The mask was off. The game was over.