He Loves Me Not: Lily’s Story, Book 1

T
he characters
and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

He Loves Me Not (Lily’s Story, Book 1)

Copyright © 2011 by Christine Kersey

Cover by Novak Illustration

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

D
iscover other exciting
titles by Christine Kersey available through her official author website:
ChristineKersey.com
or through most online retailers.

T
his is
the first book in the Lily’s Story saga.

Stay away from him. 

When college student Lily Jamison receives the ominous note, she convinces herself it's a mistake. After all, she's barely met the two men it could be referring to. But as she begins to fall for the man with the striking blue eyes, the disturbing messages increase. 

Refusing to believe warnings from an anonymous sender and trusting her own heart, Lily presses forward with her relationship, eventually coming to understand the meaning behind the messages as she fears for her life.

He Loves Me Not
does not contain any profanity or sexual content.

B
ONUS
: Includes the first chapter of
Don’t Look Back (Lily’s Story, Book 2).

I
t was
my first day of college at the University of Nevada, Reno—the beginning of a new chapter in my life. Excited to discover what lay in store for me, and eager to begin my future, I walked down the crowded hall looking for my classroom. At twenty years of age I was older than the average freshman, but that was okay. I felt just as young and inexperienced as any eighteen year old.

Not liking to draw attention to myself, I avoided eye contact with the other students. Out of habit, I reached up to adjust my glasses, but then remembered I’d traded them in for contact lenses. Worried I would be late for my first class, I hurried down the hall. It was hard enough to be alone in a new city—when I added my lack of familiarity with the campus and my poor sense of direction, the butterflies in my stomach became oversized moths.

Students sat on the floor of the hallway waiting for their classroom doors to open so they could flood in. Everyone seemed to know each other, which seemed to emphasize the fact that I didn’t know a soul. I pushed down the sudden feeling of panic and continued walking, reminding myself that even though I'd just come through a very difficult time in my life, a new phase was about to begin. I straightened my back against the weight of my bulky backpack and withdrew a printout of my schedule from the front pocket of my jeans so I could double-check the room number I needed to find.

As I slowed my pace to scan my schedule, my long black hair fell into my face, and for the hundredth time I thought about chopping it all off. Just as I began tucking my hair behind my ear, I noticed a backpack lying in my path. Though I tried to avoid it, the strap seemed to wrap around my foot, and I began falling. Trying to catch myself, I flung my arms out and slammed into the back of another student.

“Whoa!” the man said as he turned around. He caught me before I crashed to the floor.

Blood rushed to my face and I thought I would die of embarrassment, but I forced my eyes to meet his. “I am so sorry. I guess I should watch where I’m going.” He still held on to my arm—not that I minded—but I couldn’t help glancing at his hand.

He let go. “Are you okay?”

I nodded.

“Where were you going in such a hurry anyway?”

“I really wasn’t going that fast. I just, well, I was looking at my schedule . . . I wasn’t sure where my class was and I guess . . . I . .” My voice trailed off and I stopped talking before I made myself look like more of an idiot.

“That's okay. Don't worry about it.”

Relieved at his response, I smiled, and when he gazed at me, a blush rose on my cheeks.

He cleared his throat and reached for the schedule I still held in my hand. “Maybe I can help you find your class.”

I let him take the piece of paper and watched him peruse my schedule, trying not to be distracted by his startling blue eyes or his blonde hair.

“Well, what do you know?” He glanced up from the schedule, catching me staring. “We have a class together.”

“We do?” I reached for the piece of paper, self-conscious that he knew I’d been checking him out. “Which one?”

“Sociology. At eleven.”

“That’s cool,” I said.

“What’s your name?”

“It’s Lily.”

“Lily, huh?” He grinned again. “I'm Trevor.”

“Hi,” I said stupidly. It had been so long since I’d been in this kind of social situation, I felt awkward and didn’t know the right thing to say. I finally said, “I’m still not sure where my next class is. Can you point me in the right direction?”

To my pleasure and dismay, he leaned close to me to look at the schedule I held in my hand. The subtle scent of his aftershave drifted into my nose, making me nearly flush again.

Well, I have to breathe. I didn't ask him to stand so close to me.

When he stepped back slightly, I was mortified to realize I'd almost leaned toward him to get one more sniff of his cologne.

“It looks like you’re almost there,” he said.

Trying to regain my composure, I nodded. “Okay.”

“Just go to the end of the hall and make a right.” He pointed in the direction I’d been heading. “Your class should be right around there.” He smiled at me. “Hey. I’ll save you a seat in our class.”

“That sounds great.” Pleased to have some help, and by such an attractive man, I smiled again. “Bye.” I started in the direction Trevor had shown me, forcing myself not to turn around to see if he was watching me.

In my Financial Accounting class I had a hard time paying attention to the professor. My mind kept drifting back to Trevor and how much I'd enjoyed our brief contact. Even though I’d dated a few boys in high school, I hadn’t done any dating recently and knew the few flirting skills I’d possessed had become rusty.

Visualizing how I would interact with Trevor when I saw him later that morning, I imagined myself as one of the characters in the romance novels I liked to read, and pictured myself saying something witty, which would of course charm him and make him fall for me instantly and completely.

Fifty minutes later it was time for my next class, but not yet time to see Trevor in Sociology. After placing my notebook in my backpack, I checked my schedule to see where my next class would be, then reached into the depths of my backpack for the campus map. I dug around for a moment, then realized I must have left it on my desk in my apartment. “Crap,” I muttered under my breath.

“Is everything okay?” the girl sitting next to me asked.

Startled to realize someone had heard me, I stopped digging in my backpack. “I was just looking for my campus map, but I’m not finding it. Maybe you can you tell me where this building is?”

She looked where I pointed on my schedule, then she unzipped a side pocket on her backpack and pulled out a campus map. She spread it out on the table and showed me where we were and where I needed to go.

“Thanks,” I said.

“You can keep the map.” She folded it and handed it to me. “I know my way around well enough that I don’t really need it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

I took it from her. “By the way, I’m Lily.”

“Alyssa,” she said.

I tucked the map into my backpack. “I appreciate your help.”

“No problem.” She smiled. “And don't worry. By the end of the week you'll know your way around really well.”

We both stood and walked out the classroom door.

“I'll see you later,” Alyssa said before walking away.

As my next class came to a close, I thought about Trevor, and when I remembered my romantic fantasies about him falling madly in love with me, my face burned with embarrassment.

What makes you think he’s interested in you that way? He was just trying to be helpful.

Eight minutes later I stood at the entrance to the Sociology classroom. I didn’t see Trevor anywhere and wondered if I should wait for him before going inside so we could sit together. After a couple of minutes I wondered if he would even be coming. With a sinking heart, I admitted that when he’d promised he would save me a seat, he really was just being kind.

He might not even have the class with you. He was probably trying to make you feel better about nearly knocking him over.

I lifted my heavy backpack from the floor, slung it over my shoulders, then walked into the classroom.