Playing With Fire (Guarded Hearts)

© Ashley Piscitelli 2013

Cover Design by
Marisa Shor, Cover Me Darling.

Cover Couple Image © Aarrttuurr /
Fotolia.com

Corner Model Image © CURAphotography /
Fotolia.com

Sexy Carter James is the man every girl wants, and he’s used to getting any woman he desires…until he meets the one girl who seems to be just out of his reach.

Beautiful Madison Stevens is trying to adjust to college and being on her own. When she meets Carter there is an instant explosive connection between them that they can’t deny. But Madison already has a boyfriend, Chris, who isn’t willing to share Madison with anyone, not even her friends.

Carter can sense there is something wrong with Madison and Chris’s relationship. But what is it? Carter wants to give Madison the strength to walk away from Chris once and for all, but he’s afraid he will he lose her in the process. Chris will not let her go easily, but Carter is ready to fight for the one woman who could mean everything to him.

"Chris was like fire. It was pretty to look at, but if you got too close you got burnt, and if it wasn’t controlled it would destroy everything in its path. Doing what I was about to do with Carter was dangerous, but what can I say? I never had parents to warn me not to play with fire."

Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

About the Author

Playlist

I would like to dedicate this book to my husband, Anthony. He has stuck by me through thick and thin. I love you! I would also like to thank my best friends. Thank you girls for listening to me talk on and on about this and giving me feedback.

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank all of my friends and family that helped me with this book. I couldn't have done it without any of you. "Playing With Fire" started one night a year ago from a dream I kept having.

Thank you to my friends who read the book and gave me the feedback that I needed to hear. Thank you for always encouraging me and believing in me.

I would also like to thank the bloggers who read and gave me advice on the book. I really needed to hear what you said, even if I didn't like it at times.

Thank you to my brother-in-law and future doctor, Michael Piscitelli. I know many of my hypothetical medical questions and injuries were a pain, but I appre
ciate all the help you gave me.

Lastly, I want to thank anyone who read this book. I am an avid reader myself so I know how much word of mouth helps.

November 23
rd
1996

When was Mommy getting home? She went out to get me my princess cake this morning and now the sun was going down. Daddy sent me to my room a long time ago and I was hungry. Daddy said not to go downstairs, but I was hungry.

I walked downstairs and Daddy was sitting in the living room. He was drinking the stuff that made his breath smell really bad. "Daddy, I'm hungry."

He didn't even look at me. "I don't care."

Why didn't he care? When was Mommy getting home? Should I ask Daddy? I just wanted my Mommy. She would get me something to eat. "When is Mommy getting home?"

This time he looked at me. He seemed so mad. "She's never coming home again and it's all your fault. She's dead because of you." What did dead mean? Why was she never coming home? What did I do? "Get out, Madison!"

I ran into the kitchen, hid under the table and cried. I wanted my mommy. When she came home, she would make it all better. She would get me dinner and we would eat my princess cake together.

Madison

It was the first day of my first semester in college and I was a bundle of nerves. I'd already been on campus for a week, since I applied for early arrival. Thank God they let me do that because if not, I don't know where I would have gone.

My mother died when I was four and my father became an alcoholic. The state took me from him when I was seven and I've been in six different foster homes since. The last one I was at was by far the best, but only because my foster father paid me no attention. I liked it better that way. I was never popular in school because I was always moving and everyone seemed to know my background.

It sucked being the outcast, the girl who never had a family. I don't remember much from before my mother died. Sometimes I got flashbacks of what life used to be like with my dad, but those were not things I wanted to remember.

The only person I had in my life right now was my boyfriend, Chris. We met when I started my new high school junior year and had been together ever since. He decided to go to Duke University which was the main reason I chose this school. That and I'd gotten a scholarship here.

Chris was one of the hottest guys in our high school and I couldn't believe he'd wanted to date me, neither could half the female population in the school. He was at least a foot taller than me and had the kind of hair that was styled to preppy perfection. His eyes were a dark chestnut brown and he dressed like a Hollister model.

Out of the five classes I was enrolled in, we had one together. He was a Business major and I decided to major in Psychology. I wanted to either be a social worker, or work with kids in some other aspect. I felt like if someone had really cared about me, maybe my life would have been different. Maybe I would have been different. If I could make a difference in one child's life, then maybe I'd save them from becoming like me.

I looked around. I was completely lost and I was already running late for my first class. I took my schedule out of my purse to look at the building name again and, the next thing I knew, I was on the ground, lying on top of some guy.

Wait! What? What the hell just happened?!
I looked up at the brick wall I'd landed on and forgot how to breathe for a minute. Staring back at me were the bluest eyes I'd ever seen, not to mention that he was gorgeous. He was just looking at me, giving me a sexy smile. He was wearing a USC shirt, which I found funny because that wasn't the school we were at. He had this brown hair that was just long enough to give it that sexy "I just rolled out of bed" look. He was smiling at me and that was when I saw the dimples. I personally think it's unfair that a guy could be this good looking.

"Hey, nice running into you," the Greek god said.

Damn, his voice was just as sexy as the rest of him. I'd never met someone who made my insides clench from just a look and a short sentence. That was when I realized I was still lying on top of him, and I hadn't even said a word. Oh my God, he was going to think I was some crazy person!

I scrambled off of him and stood up, trying to fix my now wrinkled sundress. I looked down at the ground. My purse, books, everything else were now scattered all over the sidewalk. This was just wonderful. I started to pick up all the discarded items and looked up to notice the Greek god still staring at me.

I knew I probably looked ridiculous, but what was he staring at? He smiled and then bent down to help me pick up the rest of my stuff. I took this opportunity to really look at him. He had dark brown hair, just long enough to run your fingers through. He had to be about six feet tall and had a body that Hercules himself would be jealous of. He handed me my stuff and I gave him a smile.

I started to walk away when he yelled, "You know Branson Hall is this way, right?" When I turned around, he was pointing behind him. How did he know what building I was going to? "Are you okay? Do you need the special services building?"

Special services? Oh my God, he thought I was disabled? Well, considering I'd been with him for five minutes not saying a word and just stared like an idiot, what did I expect? "I don't need special services, but I was trying to find Branson Hall. How did you know that?" There, I actually spoke. It was a miracle I could, at this point.

"I saw your roster on the ground. I'm actually going to the same class if you wanna go together. My name is Carter, by the way."

"Hi, I'm Madison and, truthfully, it would be great if you could show me where to go. If it isn't obvious, I really have no idea where I'm going."

"Sure, no problem, come on. You know we're late, right?" He turned and looked at me. "You wouldn't want to play hooky, would you?"

Play hooky with him? On the first day of class? No way in hell. This guy was obviously very different from me. "No, I came to school to go to class, not skip with the first guy I run into." Literally. I saw a couple different emotions on his face…confusion and maybe a little excitement?

"Okay, okay, I was just asking, Maddy." What did he just call me? No one ever called me anything other than Madison. I really liked the way it sounded coming from him. What was I doing? I had a boyfriend! "So, I'm guessing you're a freshman. Do you live on campus?"

"Yes, it's my first day of class but I guess that's obvious. I live in the dorms." I hadn't met my roommate yet. Her name was Nicole and she was supposed to show up today. I wondered if our dorms were close to each other. I wondered what his room looked like. No! Madison, what are you doing! "So, do you live on campus too?"

"No, I rent a house off campus, it's just the first floor of it and I live by myself." He had a house? That had to be great, being able to come and go as you wanted and being independent. My foster father had told me this summer that I had till the beginning of September to move out. Which was ironic considering my birthday wasn't until November 23
rd
and he was still collecting checks. However, today was a new day and I decided I wasn't going to let it get to me. He interrupted my thoughts. "So, what's your major?"

"Um, it's Psychology."

"That's cool. Can I ask what you want to do?"

Why was he so interested? I never really had any guys pay me attention, except for Chris. The only guy who ever noticed me was Chris. "I want to work with kids in some aspect. I don't know how yet. Maybe be a social worker."

Chris' mother told me I was foolish for wanting to waste my degree in social work. She said I should just become a licensed psychologist, like her doctor. Truthfully, if I had to sit there all day and listen to all these snobby country club women whine about not getting the newest designer handbag, I thought I'd be the one who needed therapy.

"I think that's great. I've always admired people who work with kids. My mother was a teacher."

"You said she was a teacher. What does she do now?"

"Nothing, she died when I was ten."

Oh God, there I went sticking my foot in my mouth. How the hell was I supposed to respond to that? I hated when I told people my mom died and they'd say "I'm sorry" and give me a pity look, so I was sure as hell not going to do that. "Well, I'm sure she'd be proud of you today, going to college and everything. What's your major?"

His head snapped up at me and he looked at me like he was confused.
Did I say the wrong thing?
"Uh…it's uh…Architecture."