WTF

WTF CAMBRIA HEBERT WTF Copyright © 2023 CAMBRIA HEBERT All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Published by Cambria Hebert http://www.cambriahebert.com Interior design and typesetting by Classic Interior Design Cover design by Cover Me Darling Edited by Cassie McCown Copyright 2023 by Cambria Hebert This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. CONTENTS Welcome to Westbrook University… WTF Prologue 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 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Epilogue More Cambria Author’s Note About Cambria WELCOME TO WESTBROOK UNIVERSITY… Where the only thing more elite than the Ivy League academics and exclusive enrollment for the monied is the swimmers. Some colleges might revere football, baseball, or even hockey, but not Westbrook. At Westbrook, it’s all about the water. Or rather, who’s in it. More than one Elite swimmer has gone on to become a decorated Olympian and nationwide sensation, so it’s all eyes on the hot men who spend more time in Speedos than jeans. Eventually, though, these guys have to get out of the pool. And when they do? Love, drama, and jealousy await. Westbrook Elite is a college sports romance series of standalone novels with sexy swimmers, suspense, and page-turning plots. The only promise the author makes is that each book will have a happy end… but who knows what it will take to get there? WTF A WESTBROOK ELITE NOVEL I don’t do commitment. And though I swing both ways, I don’t do men either. It’s too messy, too stressful, and just asking for trouble. I’d rather shine bright like the sun than drown in the rain, so I adopt a pounce-and-bounce lifestyle for which my sparkling charm keeps me from being hated. When I show up in Sweden for a semester abroad, I expect a roomie. What I don’t expect is Lars. The storm to my sun. The test of my patience. How easy he makes it to forget all my reasons for staying away from guys. No big deal. I’ll just pivot from pounce and bounce to roomies with benefits. I’ll get to indulge in that side of me, then leave it half a world away. What happens in Sweden stays in Sweden… until he follows me home. Lars shows up at Westbrook looking like my little brother’s new swim bro. Just as alluring as he did before. And all I can do is ask myself, WTF? My resolve for an uncomplicated, stress-free life isn’t something I’m willing to give up for anyone, even if his icy-blond hair begs for my fingers and those pale-blue eyes are haunted by shadows. I might be the sun, but I am not his sun, and it’s not my job to chase away whatever sent him running here. He swears it isn’t me. But I’m calling bullshit. Why else would he show up on my turf? But then shit starts happening, and the shadows in his eyes turn to panic. I catch a glimpse of the bruises on his creamy, flawless skin. I can’t keep him at arm’s length anymore. I don’t want to. Protecting him means surrendering to everything I always refused. His destruction or mine. The choice is simple, so achingly absolute that I can’t help but PROLOGUE SWEDEN ABOUT FIVE MONTHS AGO… Lars I really don’t need this, I think for probably the twelve-hundredth time in the last hour. Can a guy have that many thoughts in a single hour? Maybe I just set a record. Something else I did not want or need. Ever since getting the call summoning me to the coach’s office, my body had torpedoed itself into fight-or-flight mode. The urge to escape was like a wildfire beneath my skin, making me want to peel it back and throw it away. The need to run should have been helpful as I pointed myself in the direction of the pool… but it wasn’t. It just made things worse because I had to fight the instinct to run in the opposite direction. I had no clue why I was freaking out. Getting called to Coach’s office wasn’t like being sent before a firing squad. It wasn’t a life-and-death situation. It didn’t matter. My body paid no attention to actual reasonable thought because it was already freaking the fuck out and sounding the alarms. Nausea? Check. Quivering limbs? Check. Shallow, rapid breathing? Check and check. Speedy heart rate? Yep, that too. Honestly, I should be used to this by now. Fight-or-flight was a state I existed in more than not the past six months. Or maybe longer. It never got any easier, but I got better at hiding it. At least on the outside. On the inside, though, I was filled to the brim with everything mentioned above along with my brain telling me repeatedly that it did not need this. Whatever this was. “It’s a good excuse to not have to go back to your dorm room. It’s a good way to mix up your routine. Don’t be predictable,” I mumbled, once again trying to reason with my head. That argument actually helped some, and