More than Friends: (A Friends to Lovers Standalone Romance) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  More than Friends

  Jillian Quinn

  Copyright © 2017 by Jillian Quinn

  All rights reserved.

  Visit my website at JillianQuinnBooks.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Also by Jillian Quinn

  Newsletter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Newsletter

  Also by Jillian Quinn

  About the Author

  Also by Jillian Quinn

  FACE-OFF SERIES

  Book 1: Parker

  Book 2: Kane

  Book 3: Donovan

  Book 4: Jameson

  STANDALONE NOVELS

  Roughing

  Holding

  Corrupt Me

  Teach

  More Than Friends

  More Than Roommates

  To get a sneak peek at upcoming books, deals, giveaways, and exclusive excerpts, sign up HERE for Jillian’s newsletter.

  For more information, visit JillianQuinnBooks.com.

  Chapter 1

  Freshman Year

  Dean

  For the first time in my life, I am afraid to talk to a girl. And not just any girl. Kat is the daughter of Nick Baldwin, the professional hockey player I have idolized for most of my life. I still have NHL posters of her dad on the walls in my bedroom back home. Her father is the reason I wanted to become a hockey player, and now, I am stalking her.

  My teammates laughed at me, told me I was crazy for seeking out Kat. When I’d heard that Nick’s daughter made the women’s ice hockey team at Strickland University, I had to see for myself if she lives up to the Baldwin name. She doesn’t disappoint, not even a little bit. In fact, Kat might be a faster skater than her dad.

  Kat skates down the ice, with a few girls in tow, switching the puck to her right, as she the winger comes up on her left side. They collide against the boards, scrambling for the puck. With a front-row seat to the action, I get up from my chair and lean into the Plexiglas, watching Kat fight to keep possession of the puck. She elbows one of the girls in the jaw, but the official doesn’t catch it.

  I laugh. While Kat has her father’s skating and puck-handling abilities, she has her older brother’s scrappiness. Duke and Austin Baldwin are two of the best defensive players in the NHL. I see a lot of her brothers in Kat. Even from the stands, I am in awe of her, smiling at the thought of meeting her.

  After the game ends, I wait by the rink entrance for Kat as the Strickland Senators smack the hands of their opponents. Kat was the sole reason for this win at home. She dominated every second she was on the ice.

  Wiping my sweaty palms down the front of my jeans, I call out to Kat, who narrows her eyes at me. I hold up my index finger and gesture for her to come over to me.

  She rolls her eyes but follows my request.

  “Hey,” I manage to say before she interrupts my train of thought.

  “Did you just beckon me?” She rips off her gloves and holds them against her navy-and-white jersey.

  “Umm…I guess so.” I shove my hands into my pockets to dry them off.

  Why is she making me so damn anxious? I wasn’t even this nervous when I tried out for the varsity hockey team.

  “I’m not a puck bunny or your beckon call girl. You don’t point your finger at me and expect me to come running over.”

  The corners of my mouth turn up into a wicked grin. “But you did.”

  “No, don’t do that.” She shakes her head. “Does that smirk normally work for you?”

  Thrown off by her question and the awful turn that this conversation is taking, I have no idea how to respond. From watching her play, I knew she would be a no bullshit kind of girl, yet I treated her as if she were some puck bunny hanging out after one of my games.

  Total dick move.

  “Yeah, I guess it does,” I admit, holding out my less sweaty hand. “I’m Dean Crawford, the starting center for the men’s team.”

  “I know who you are, Dean. Your reputation precedes you.”

  “Is that a good or bad thing?”

  She shrugs. “Depends if we’re talking about hockey or your extracurricular activities.”

  “This is not how I was hoping this would go,” I confess.

  She chuckles. “You had this all planned out? I thought you were a ladies man. I have to say I’m not that impressed.”

  “Oh, yeah. Why is that?” I try to hide my smile and fail.

  “You’re not as smooth as I thought you would be.”

  “At least you know who I am.”

  “C’mon, Baldwin,” her coach yells from behind her on her way into the locker room. “Let’s get a move on.”

  Kat glances over her shoulder and says okay, before turning her focus back to me. “I have to go. Is there something you wanted?”

  I’ve never had this issue with women. Most of the girls on campus throw themselves at my teammates and me. “I wanted to meet you.”

  She huffs. “Are you one of my dad’s fanboys? I don’t have time for that shit. Do you know how many guys talk to me every week because of my dad and brothers?”

  “I won’t lie to you. Your dad is the reason I came here today, but your talent is what kept me watching.”

  Her face lights up with a genuine smile. “Now, you’re just trying to flatter me.”

  “Is it working?” I wiggle my eyebrows at her.

  “I don’t know,” she groans. “Maybe.”

  “What are you doing later?”

  “I might hang out with my friend at the SAC.” She bites down on her bottom lip as if I’m the one who is making her nervous. “We play air hockey up on the third floor if you want to come.”

  Then, it hits me that she thinks I’m asking her on a date when that wasn’t my intention. Kat is beautiful that much
I can tell beneath the helmet that covers her blonde hair and the layers of gear that fill out her frame. But I wasn’t even thinking that far ahead. Despite my reputation, I don’t sleep around as much as everyone thinks. I don’t correct the people spreading the rumors either. So, I suppose that is my fault.

  “Well, I guess I will see you in the game room.”

  “Okay.” She smiles one last time before she turns away from me. “See ya later, Dean. Don’t think for one second that I will let you win just because I’m a girl.”

  I laugh in response. “Girl or not, I wouldn’t expect that from a Baldwin.”

  She glances over her shoulder at me and winks.

  Kat is everything I had imagined and more. Girls like her don’t come along that often. She has me so intrigued that I panic all over again at the thought of hanging out with her outside the rink. As I watch Kat leave, my heart pounds in my chest. I am in trouble.

  Chapter 2

  Freshman Year

  Kat

  “Dean Crawford is coming here to hang out with us?” Becca holds her hand up to her mouth, her eyes wide in shock.

  I shrug, staring around the game room to make sure no one overheard her outburst. “Stop turning it into a big deal.”

  “But he’s so hot. He waited for you after our game. I mean seriously, Kat, how did you get him to ask you out?”

  “Dean didn’t ask me out.” I sigh at her words. “He wanted to know what I was doing tonight, and I told him we would probably come here like we always do.”

  “I hope Dean brings one of his teammates with him. Then, we can double date.” She pushes her dark curls behind her ears and gives me a dreamy look.

  Dean has this effect on all women. I must’ve thrown him for a loop with how I acted. I did it on purpose to mess with his mojo. For my entire life, I have dealt with puck bunnies and skanky women lusting over my dad, and now my older brothers. I wasn’t about to do the same thing to Dean.

  “It’s not a date,” I correct for what feels like the hundredth time since I told Becca about Dean beckoning me earlier.

  “That was not an invitation to dinner, more like a casual gesture among friends. Dean would never see me as more than a friend.”

  “Get out of here, Kat.” Becca sinks into the plush fabric that lines the bench along the windowsill and leans against the wall to get comfortable. “He made the first move. I wouldn’t be so sure about the two of you being friends.”

  Even if I wanted to get my hopes up for more, there’s no way I would date someone with his reputation.

  “You would be the talk of the campus if you dated Dean Crawford.”

  “I already am the talk of the campus.” I sit next to her on the ledge and glance around the room for Dean. “At least once a week I have someone ask me for my autograph as if I am an extension of my famous family. You should see the stares I get from the guys on this campus. It’s creepy. Dean was no different. He’s another fan.”

  “You don’t know that.” Her smile reaches her eyes, directing my attention to the cause of her reaction. Dean.

  Flanked by two of his teammates, Dean strolls toward us. His broad shoulders and thick chest fill out the black sweater that’s plastered to his muscular frame. Dark jeans hang low from his narrow hips and hug every curve of his body as if made for him.

  I shouldn’t have these thoughts about Dean. He’s the campus bad boy. I avoid men like him on purpose. But for some reason, I don’t think he would break my heart. Not that I want to get that close to him, but still, I saw something in Dean earlier. That something is what made me lower my guard and invite him here tonight.

  “You showed,” I say, hopping down from the windowsill to meet him.

  “Of course, I did.” He motions toward the guy on his right and then left. “Do you know Ryan and Killian?”

  I hold out my hand for each of them to shake.

  Ryan Nash and Killian Cade are just as legendary at Strickland University as Dean. Ryan and Killian are both juniors who already had a serious puck bunny reputation before Dean made the varsity team. I guess manwhores travel in packs. Dean must be their alpha.

  “Hey,” Dean says, clutching my waist. He pulls me into him and kisses me on the cheek.

  And I thought my brothers were lovey. Still, they are family, and Dean is a complete stranger. Maybe Becca is right about this being a date. I have no idea how to react to Dean.

  My brothers were so overprotective that I never had many dates. I mostly kept my head in my books and played hockey. Any chance at a social life was killed by Duke or Austin the second they found out a boy was interested in me. I always had Becca, though. We moved from Chicago to Philadelphia together to play for the Senators. College is our fresh start.

  Like me, Becca has an overbearing family. Her parents are super religious and never let her do anything. Between her parents and my brothers, we mostly stuck to ourselves. Spending so much time away from boys and all the drama that come with them allowed both of us to improve our game. And who better than to teach us than my dad?

  Dean’s eyes travel over my body as he releases me from his grip. “You look different out of uniform. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

  “Um…okay.”

  “I mean that in the best way possible,” he adds. “It was supposed to be a compliment.”

  “You suck at this,” I tell him with laughter in my voice.

  He chuckles. “I never had a girl as a friend before. All of this is new to me.”

  My heart plunges into my stomach. But I quickly rebound from Dean’s comment. No way will I allow him to see the effect his words have on me.

  “I’m glad I will be your first,” I say.

  “Me, too.” The corners of his mouth turn up into a smile.

  “Now that you’ve popped your girlfriend cherry, do you want to play some air hockey?”

  He lifts the strikers from the vacant air hockey table and hands one to me. “I’m not going easy on you, Kitten.”

  No one has called me Kitten in years. I love the way it sounds coming from Dean’s mouth. A beat passes between us where I stare into his denim irises, studying his olive skin and flawless features. If you overlook the scar under his right eyebrow, Dean is perfect in every way.

  Dean rakes his hand through his short, black hair that has a slight curl at the ends, and waits for me to respond. Lost in his looks, I forgot we were supposed to play air hockey. My ability to become his friend dwindles by the minute. I’ve had plenty of friends that were boys, most of them by association with my brothers.

  We take our places at each end of the table, staring down at each other. There’s a palpable energy between us, an electric pulse that creeps into my bones with each stolen glance in Dean’s direction. But he wants to be friends.

  Chapter 3

  Sophmore Year

  Kat

  In the basement of the Delta Sigma Phi fraternity house, I sit next to Dean on the couch and cringe. I’m pretty sure someone puked on this thing earlier. Even with all the alcohol in my system, the thought causes me to scoot closer to Dean.

  “You don’t have to play, Kitten.” Dean taps me in the arm. “I know this is not your thing.”

  “It’s okay,” I slur. “I want to play the game.”

  All the Solo cups we pounded during beer pong kicked in about ten minutes ago, and I am starting to give zero fucks.

  One of the frat brothers had suggested we play a make out game. I thought it was stupid, considering we are not in grade school anymore. But it’s a more advanced version of Seven Minutes in Heaven, or at least that was his claim. I assume this is how they get women to bend to their will.

  Dean has more experience than me. In fact, I still haven’t kissed a boy for more than a few seconds on the lips. There was one time that I guess counted as my first kiss with tongue, but that was so short I have a hard time considering that a kiss.

  If not for the liquid courage, I would be terrified right now. But with Dean at my si
de, I’m not scared. He has a way of calming me down without saying a word. Just knowing he’s here with me is enough.

  “I don’t want to see you kissing a random frat dude,” Dean says, lowering his voice.

  Surrounded by the brothers who live in the house and their next victims, I reconsider this stupid game. They take turns playing Russian Roulette with shot glasses of vodka and water. For every shot of vodka we grab, we have to perform a dare. Of course, all of them involve something dirty.

  Dean holds me close as he drinks his beer and watches the others play the game. Starting to rethink the idea, I want to back out. After making a promise to my younger brothers not to touch me, Dean will want to keep his word. But peer pressure is a bitch.

  After we take our shots, both of them full of vodka, one of the brothers tells us to choose our dare. I shrug at him, unsure of what to pick. Dean stares at me, as if he has no idea what to do, and pounds the rest of the cup on the table in front of him.

  The boy on the couch across from us throws a key into Dean’s lap. “Top floor, last door on the right.”

  Dean lifts the key from his jeans and stares at the boy, confused, but he must get the reference. He wants Dean to take me upstairs.

  Awkward.

  “We’re friends,” Dean tells him, throwing the key back to him.

  He catches the key and throws it right back, and this time it lands on my leg. I lift it, feeling the dull ridges with my fingers, and lean into Dean.