Pride & Precedents (The Park Brothers #2)

1. Prologue

Chapter one

Prologue

Henry

March 13 th , 2009

I take one final look in the mirror to check the buttons on my Henley shirt. Shit. Should I leave one open to show off my chest hair, or keep it classy? Naomi's never had a problem with what I wore before... Considering all our previous hookups have been sandwiched between my crew practices, her orchestra rehearsals, and our Constitutional Law study sessions, fashion hasn't really been a priority. The last time we got together, I was still in my sweaty gym shorts, for Christ's sake.

That she's so low-maintenance is one of my favorite things about Naomi. That, and she's an actual genius. She strutted into class and sat in the very first row, right next to me. While everyone else had their laptops open, she went old school with a legal pad and a dictaphone. She radiated confidence, which she promptly backed up when she raised her hand to answer all the professor's questions; a professor known to take content from every part of the textbook, even the footnotes. In a word, she was intimidating. I committed myself to work harder, study longer, worried she might knock me out of the top spot with her brilliance. And then our eyes locked, and all thoughts of school work flew from my head.

Naomi is a certified ten. I'm tall at 6'2", but she's no slouch herself at 5'10". She says her long, sinewy limbs are her secret weapon for playing the cello, and since he's been the first chair cellist in the Yale Symphony Orchestra since our first year, I'll take her word for it. Bone straight, raven hair spills over her shoulders and reaches all the way past her butt, which is small, but perky and accentuated by the miniskirts she wears on a near daily basis. And as a breast man myself, I'm more than satisfied with her ample handful. She's like my own personal Sailor Moon…if Sailor had black hair instead of blonde.

She might not care about clothing or whether I text her before bed, but today, she gets the full gentleman experience. I told her we needed to link up to compare notes for next week's exam, but actually, I'm finally gonna take the dive and ask her to be my girlfriend.

I've been thinking about it for a while—how I almost itch when I go a whole day without seeing her, how I get bummed when she goes back to her apartment instead of staying over at mine, how even slogging through our mammoth Chemerinsky textbook isn't enough to keep me from getting hard around her. Nearly one-hundred pages on Economic Liberties should be able to tame the beast, and yet, when Naomi's around, I'm adjusting myself and blushing like a horny teenager with a crush.

At first, it was embarrassing—and not ideal for studying—until I realized she was just as turned on as I was. We'd been study partners for three weeks— Thank you, Professor Feinstein! —and she was sitting so close on my hand-me-down couch that our knees were touching. I thought I was hiding my reaction to her until I caught her staring at the prominent ridge in my pants. Her dark, almond eyes were wide, her delicate lips were parted, and she had stopped talking mid-sentence. The rosy tint in her cheeks was unmistakable when she looked up to meet my eyes.

But instead of playing coy, she'd surprised the shit out of me by pushing her books off her lap and launching herself at me lips-first. She tasted so luscious when her tongue slipped into my mouth, felt so perfect in my arms that instinctively slid around her waist. I was in shock for a full five seconds while my brain caught up with my body, and then I was kissing her back passionately, squeezing her butt until she breathed soft moans against my lips, grinding her obvious wetness against my thigh.

That was two months ago. Two months of quickies in the stacks, make out sessions in the boathouse, and me, slowly but surely, falling for her.

A few weeks ago, I made the mistake of telling my twin, Noah, about my feelings. He made fun of me mercilessly, saying our old school Korean dad would never allow his eldest son to bring home a Japanese woman, but we both know that's bullshit. Dad might be old school when it comes to acceptable career paths and chivalry, but he and Mom have always been progressive when it comes to relationships. Besides, he could hardly get upset about me dating a Japanese girl when he married a White woman. None of that stopped Noah from changing his Caller Tune to Devo's "Whip It". Asshole.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. First, I have to make things official. Then I can worry about whether she could handle Thanksgiving at the Park house with all four of my brothers. I take a deep breath, nervously finger comb my hair for the thousandth time, grab my keys, wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans, and head out the door.

It's a short walk to her apartment; she lives in the Park Street district, and I'm practically right around the corner in the Chapel Street area. We could be even closer if we moved in together…Maybe next year? Slow your roll, Henry You don't even know what she's going to say.

Before I've had a chance to calm my nerves, I slip inside as another tenant exits and make my way to her front door. Flowers! I should've brought flowers! Maybe that would've seemed too thirsty? Fuck it. I'm already here.

I have to knock twice before I hear any movement inside. That's unusual, considering I texted her last night to remind her about our study session. I hear more muffled stumbling before the door is thrown open.

It's not Naomi. Not her roommate. Standing in front of me, wearing nothing but boxers and a lopsided grin is Tanner, my teammate from crew. What the fuck?! What is he doing here? What is he doing here half naked?

Against my will, my brain tallies up all the details before me. Tanner's douchebag face looking sweaty, flushed, and smug . Maxwell music coming out of Naomi's open bedroom door. Clearly, I've misread things. Here I thought we were on track to make things official, and she thinks it's the perfect time to start hooking up with my fucking teammate .

I go cold and numb immediately, like when I fell through the ice on our last family trip to Promised Land State Park. Sure, it would be satisfying to wipe that smug look off Tanner's face with my fists, but no one's gonna hire someone with a law degree from Yale and a felony assault on his record. After momentary rage, I feel myself shutting down further, closing off those useless, touchy-feely parts of myself that allowed this disaster to happen to me, allowed me to feel this… hurt .

I hear Naomi's sweet laughter clearly through the open door.

"Who is it, Tan, babe? Can't you tell them we're busy?" Tanner's smug grin turns wicked. He knew I liked Naomi. He almost caught us in the boathouse once. He took one look at me with my fly open and her with her skirt pushed up and backed out slowly, but not before raking his eyes up and down her body like the asshole he is. He wanted her, and he didn't care that she was mine.

But she wasn't mine. Not really. She was just my almost-girlfriend and now, first heartbreak. All I was to her was a study partner and occasional lay.

I walk away from the still open door without saying a word. What's there to say? In two more weeks, this class will be done, along with our second year. Sure, I'll see her around next year, but it's mostly electives and we luckily don't have the same specialty. Just two more weeks, a few awkward meetings around campus, or maybe while grabbing groceries at Shaw's, and then I never have to see Naomi again.