Mad Valentine: A Bad Boy Romance (Mad Valentine Trilogy Book 1) Read Free Page A

early just to avoid you!
    He didn’t look at me or acknowledge me or extend any kind of greeting. I sat there awkwardly, my whole body on the verge of cringing. I breathed a light sigh of relief when the professor started talking. At least this would give me something else to think about.
    The assignment from our first day of class had been to bring in a piece of writing we were currently working on. I had brought a profile piece I was writing on a librarian on campus who was 82 years old and had been working at the main stacks for over 50 years. She had been there lending books to the hippies of the ’60s, the aspiring yuppies of the ’80s, and now, to us jaded millennials. She was a fascinating woman with so many insights and I was excited to get the piece published in the autumn issue of the school literary magazine. I was currently in the editing stages with Owen, the king of editorial pricks. Ugh.
    “It’s important for any creative piece to have an element of lyricism,” the professor was saying. “Essentially, the piece should not only evoke feelings through its words and meaning, but also through its sound . Today, I want you to really hear what you are writing. With a partner, you will close your eyes and have your piece read out loud to you. Don’t just listen to the words—listen to the sounds. What do they evoke? Do they elicit any kind of reaction? Don’t take notes, just listen, and let’s talk about this when we reconvene.”
    Hmm , I thought, looking down at my paper. This should be interesting.
    “Pair up with the person sitting next to you, and spread out.”
    What?
    “Grab a seat far enough away from others so you can read and listen without distraction. Some of you can spill out into the hall if you like. Go ahead.”
    I timidly looked to my right at the girl sitting next to me, but she had already turned away and was chatting with her partner. I even considered looking for Owen, but I waved it off as a worse alternative. I cautiously turned to the guy with the tattoos. He was looking at a paper on top of his binder, and when he felt my eyes on him, he looked at me coolly. He didn’t say anything.
    “Uh,” I said. And then I couldn’t think of the next thing to say. So I gave him a weak smile.
    He raised an eyebrow at me. He still didn’t say anything.
    Are you serious? He is not giving me a single break!
    “Do you want to…pair up?” I didn’t know how to act. I just felt so lame.
    “Okay,” he said in his deep-soft voice. “Where do you want to go?” He looked around the room, surveying the space.
    Geez! At least he’s not going to act like he’s a complete mute.
    “How about over there?” I pointed to a relatively empty, sunny corner. He silently got up and moved toward it, then pulled two desks together and sat down in one. I let out a sigh and mentally rolled up my sleeves. I resolved to make the best of the situation.
    I slid into the desk facing him, took a moment to steady myself, then looked him right in the eyes.
    “I want you to know I’m really sorry for saying those stupid things to you the first day of class. It was insensitive and I regret it. I, um, hope we can start again.”
    I didn’t know if it was the right thing to say. It didn’t feel particularly right or wrong. I was simply making an effort to apologize. And to my surprise, he seemed to acknowledge that.
    “All right,” he said with a shrug. “Don’t worry about it.” An amused little smile flickered across his face. “I’m Victor.”
    Something somewhere inside me bloomed at the sight of his smile and the sound of his name. His name is Victor. Suddenly I began to relax, and for reasons I couldn’t explain, I felt happy.
    “I’m Ellen,” I said. “But you already know me as ‘asshole.’ Take your pick.”
    He looked down and chuckled, and I noticed to my shock and delight that he had a dimple. Just on the left side. He lifted his dark brown eyes to mine again, and under that gaze I