The Trade (Coastal Rivals Book 1)

Despite the early morning chill, I’ve claimed a spot on the bench outside of Jones Hall, a laptop balanced precariously on one knee as I navigate through an email from my editor. His words, cryptic and ill-timed, are like a relentless echo in my head.

I must have read them at least a hundred times by now.

I squint at the glaring screen, the coffee in my stomach churning with a knot of disbelief and annoyance. It’s laughable, really. Almost as if the universe is pulling some cruel prank on me. Or worse, Garrett Warner—the conceited man-child—has somehow tuned into a cosmic joke at my expense.

Sure, I should be grateful for this assignment. Hell, it’s the first piece in ages that’s sparked any semblance of excitement. But why did it have to be this specific story?

“Jade!”

The unexpected sound of West’s voice cuts through my self-induced daze. His tone is warm yet slightly amused, and my heart inexplicably stutters in response.

I react on instinct, hastily snapping my laptop closed and shoving it into the safety of my bag, rising from the bench to greet him.

“Hey there.” His lips curve into a cheeky grin, a lopsided tug that highlights the little indent in his right cheek. It’s an attractive look on him, made even more so by his dark hair swept back to reveal his sharp features.

“Hey,” I say, attempting to sound casual despite the hint of warmth blooming in my cheeks.

“Your morning coffee.” He offers the promised drink, a swiping of his thumb across my wrist as he hands it over. A simple act, yet it sends my pulse fluttering.

“Thank you, Theo.” I meet his gaze, daring him to comment.

“Oh, Lord.” His lip curls in a teasing smirk. “When are you going to give it a rest?”

“Give what a rest, exactly?” I counter, a playful lilt to my voice. “Calling you by your name?”

He huffs a chuckle. “You’re lucky I still owe you.”

“Would you prefer I called you Teddy? Because I like that one, too.”

“Hmm.” He feigns deep thought, brow furrowing. “West is fine, thanks.”

“But don’t you get bored of everyone calling you the same thing?”

His gaze narrows slightly, the corners of his lips tugging up in an amused smile. “I don’t know, do you?”

“Not everyone calls me Jade. Actually, my brother calls me Lili.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s a shortened version of my middle name, Lilianna.”

He pauses, his gaze momentarily studying me. “Jade Lilianna, huh? You have a last name to go with it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I ask, trying to suppress the small surge of apprehension that comes with his curiosity. If West knew my last name, he might easily connect the dots to my brother. And I’m not ready to reveal that part of my life to him just yet. So, for now, I’m more than happy to delay the inevitable.

“Ah, I see how it is.” His grin widens, a playful glint in his eyes. “You know, if I really wanted to find out, I could just check your next byline.”

“Hmm, you could. But that wouldn’t be playing fair,” I say, crossing my arms defensively. “Would it, Teddy?”

He groans in exasperation, his expression somewhere between amusement and annoyance. “Oh, sweet Christ.”

“And yet, you’re lucky I like Theo better.”

He snorts a laugh. “Such a little dork.”

“Such a little drama queen,” I fire back, matching his playful tone. I pause for a moment, shifting the conversation. “By the way, about tomorrow—I was wondering if you could meet me in the afternoon instead?”

“Sure, whatever you need.”

“Okay, cool.” I pull out my phone and set a quick reminder for myself. “Meet at the library around two o’clock? I have a deadline coming up for the Daily, so I’m definitely gonna need an afternoon pick-me-up.”

“Alright,” he agrees, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “So what groundbreaking article are you working on now?”

“Believe it or not, Garrett finally decided to throw me a bone this time.”

“Garrett?” He tilts his head in question.

“Yeah, my editor. He assigned me a new piece on Immersive Arts.”

“Oh . . . cool.” He furrows his brow, then, “What does that mean exactly?”

“The art majors have decided to use our campus as their canvas,” I explain, a flicker of enthusiasm kindling inside me. “There’s this gruesome dead seal that they made out of ceramics. It’s got, like, Coke cans and plastic bottles spilling out of its guts, but they placed him right in front of the eagle statue. I guess it’s supposed to be a commentary on plastic in our oceans.”

He shudders a bit, a look of revulsion briefly crossing his face. “That’s . . . slightly disturbing.”

I can’t help but laugh at his reaction. “Yeah, but it’s also kind of awesome, in its own way. You want to know the real kicker, though?”

“What’s that?”

I sigh dramatically. “Remember Freddy?”

“How could I forget Mr. Pissed-My-Pants?”

“Well, he’s the lead artist,” I say, a pang of dread settling in my stomach. “Garrett just sent me the details this morning.”

He blinks at me in surprise. “No shit?”

“None whatsoever. Irony’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

His eyes narrow, a sudden intensity in his gaze. “So, what, you have to go interview the guy now?”

“Actually, I already emailed him the interview questions. I know it’s a cop-out, but fuck . . . I can’t face him after the trauma we caused.”

“Ruthless.”

“Right?” I shake my head, a wry smile twisting my lips. “Anyway, I have to get to class. I’ll see you at the library tomorrow?”

“For sure,” he agrees, his voice low and soothing. “Would you mind if I stuck around to study?”

I purse my lips, teasing him. “The library’s a public domain . . . but I don’t really have time to help you edit another paper.”

“Oh, come on,” he says playfully, a spark of mischief in his eyes. “As if I’d trick you into helping me.”

I raise a skeptical brow. “Don’t act like you’re so above shady tactics.”

He momentarily sobers up, his expression thoughtful. “You know what, you’re right.” Then, a soft smirk slowly resurfaces on his lips. “If I want something from you, I’ll just have to man up and ask for it.”

His words catch me off guard, leaving a trail of confusion in their wake. “Um, okay, then,” I stammer, fumbling to decipher his comment.

With an easy familiarity, he pats my bag before stepping away, a lingering warmth left in his wake. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jade.”

“Read it and weep, baby.” West’s voice breaks through the quiet hum of the library as he slams a stack of papers down on my table. The interruption is as unwelcome as it is jarring.

I blink up at him. “What is that?” I ask, cautiously edging toward the heap of papers.

His grin, spread wide across his face, could easily outshine the afternoon sunset. “Why don’t you take a look, sweet cheeks?”

I scrunch up my nose in distaste, half-annoyed, half-amused. “First of all, ew. Second of all . . .” I divert my attention to the paper, scanning it quickly. Recognition hits, and I can’t hold back a surprised laugh. “Holy shit.”

“Do you see that?” His chest inflates with pride, a tangible energy emanating from him. “That’s a fucking eighty-one.”

“Wow, a solid B-.” I can’t help but mirror his excitement, tapping the papers as if to transfer some of the good fortune to myself. “Nice job, Theo.”

He rewards my compliment with my signature iced latte, placing it on the table before sinking into the seat beside me. “This is the best grade I’ve ever gotten,” he says, locking his gaze onto me. His hands grip the armrests on my chair, caging me in with his infectious joy. “Did you know that?”

“I didn’t.” I shake my head, grinning widely at his triumph. “But that’s amazing.”

“It is amazing,” he says, an intensity in his eyes that I can’t quite place. “And I owe it all to you, Jade. I’m so fucking happy right now I could kiss you.”

A fluttering sensation rises in my chest at his words, my heart rate jolting. “Yeah?”

His gaze drops to my lips for a fraction of a second. “Fuck yeah.”

“Well, if you want something from me, then why don’t you just ask for it?” The words spill out before I can filter them, leaving us both startled.

He pauses, an awkward chuckle breaking the tension. “Wait, are you being serious?”

I steady my gaze, choosing to meet his challenge. “Are you?”

A furrow knots between his brows. “I—”

“It’d just be a congratulations kiss,” I quickly backtrack, my words tumbling out. “Nothing serious.”

He leans in. “Nothing serious?”

“Uh-huh.”

His expression twists for a moment, an internal debate visible in his eyes. “I, uh—no, you know what? Why don’t you give me one when I actually deserve it?”

“What do you mean?”

“If I can actually pass this course,” he clarifies, his voice lower than before. “That’s when I’ll deserve a kiss from you.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, trying to steady my pounding heart. “You think so?”

His answer is immediate and firm. “Yes.” He stares me down, the intensity returning to his gaze, his proximity inching just a tad closer. “And don’t think I won’t come to collect.”

Outwardly, I roll my eyes. Inwardly, I’m screaming. “So dramatic,” I say, hoping my voice sounds steadier than I feel.

“Drink your latte, Jade.” He smirks, finally releasing his hold on my chair. The warmth of his touch fades, leaving a strange sense of absence. “Besides, don’t you have some big article to write about limp-dick Freddy?”

I shoot him a glare, my nerves rapidly shifting back to playful irritation. “You’re so annoying.”

His laughter fills the air, a deep, husky sound that sends a ripple of warmth right through me. “You’re right.” He turns away, pulling his laptop from his bag with renewed focus. “That’s why I’m going to shut up and study now.”

“Well, good, then,” I huff.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his attention now divided between me and his laptop. “Good.”

The sun dips well below the horizon by the time I finally leave the library, West’s words still echoing in my mind. My thoughts are a chaotic whirlwind as I make my way back to the apartment, the scent of his cologne—something like sage and sandalwood—still lingering in the fabric of my sweater.

He’d been close today. Really close. Too fucking close if you ask me. I shudder at the memory, a strange sense of thrill tingling up my spine.

With my keys fumbling in my grasp, I storm into the apartment, my mind buzzing with thoughts I’m forcing myself to confront. “Shan,” I groan, barging into her room without a second thought. “I have some really bad news.”

Startled, she scrambles to sit up higher on her bed, eyes wide and alert. She pats the spot beside her. “What is it?”

The words taste like poison, but I push them out anyway. Flopping down next to her on the mattress, I admit, “I think I might have a teeny, tiny crush on West.”

“What?” The corners of her mouth lift into a cheeky grin. “Are you sure?”

I let out a frustrated sigh, covering my face with my hands. “I don’t know,” I mumble from behind my fingers. “I think so? We were just studying in the library, and I kind of asked him . . . to ask me . . . to kiss him.”

Her brow crinkles in confusion. “You asked him . . . to ask you?”

“Yes, I know, it sounds complicated,” I say, dropping my hands and waving one dismissively. “We didn’t actually end up kissing. But now I don’t know what the fuck to do. This is silly, right?”

She shakes her head at me, her long hair swaying with the motion. “It’s not silly. I told you West’s a good guy. It’s not so unfathomable that you’d have a crush on him.”

“But I know guys like him. He’s just like my brother, in a way,” I say, falling back onto the bed with a huff. “And I’ve told you how Ace treats his girlfriends. He goes through them like they’re disposable.”

Her agreement is a small hum. She lies down next to me, our heads nearly touching on her pillow. “To be fair, I haven’t really seen West with anyone for a while. Except . . .”

“What?”

“Well, he was being a little bit flirty with me on Sunday morning.” She glances at me apologetically. “Before you came back with the groceries.”

My heart sinks. “You think he’s interested in you?”

She turns on her side, propping herself up on one elbow. “I think he wants to hook up, but I don’t think he’s interested in anything beyond that.”

“Is that why he invited us over for the fight?”

“He did mention something about his bedroom, but that’s kind of just . . . how he is. It was more of a setup for you. You know, to introduce you to some of the football players.”

“So, you’re saying West wants me to date one of his teammates?” My tone is incredulous, one brow quirked in disbelief.

“Maybe?” She hesitates, biting her lip. “I mean, that’s what I was going for. I don’t really know his game plan, to be honest.”

“Well, shit.”

“Why don’t you just see how things go until Saturday?” she suggests. “If you think you’re into him, that’s cool with me. I definitely won’t reciprocate his flirting.”

“Honestly, I don’t know how I feel,” I admit, burying my face into her pillow. “It’s like one second, he’s a complete douchebag. Then the next second, he’s being sweet and funny and charming. He’s also ridiculously hot, so I think that’s clouding my judgment.”

“Take your time, Jade,” she murmurs, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Just . . . don’t let him hurt you, and you’ll be fine.”

“Easier said than done,” I say, pulling my face out of the pillow to look at her. I offer her a small, resigned smile. “Much easier.”

As the night presses on, thoughts of West play on a never-ending loop. His smile, his laugh, the way he looked at me today in the library. It’s all too much, too soon. And though I hate to admit it, I do have a crush on him.

It’s too bad that a guy like West could undoubtedly turn my life upside down. I’m not sure I’m ready for it, but at the same time, I know I’m done with all the nice guys.

The guys who take me on sweet little dates and always say the right things. The guys who are supposedly generous in bed but have no fucking clue how to actually pay attention. The guys who are more than happy to take up space in my life but never in my mind, my body, or my heart.