Toby Wright has always prided himself on being one of the
most normal guys at Whitman University. He loves his parents, has a great job
lined up after graduation, and with the exception of attempting to cross the
unbalanced Sebastian Blair sophomore year, has kept his nose pretty clean.
But the rich never have empty closets, and memories long stashed away come spilling free when notorious party girl Kennedy Gilbert almost dies in his dorm room.
Nobody really knows how Kennedy manages to stay in good standing at Whitman–she never goes to class, doesn’t pretend to care about her future, and as far as people can tell, is never sober. This isn’t her first meeting with a stomach pump, but it is the first time she’s woken up to Toby’s concerned brown eyes. Despite the fact that she prefers life without friends, he gets under her skin with his insistence on playing her guardian angel.
No one knows better than Toby that people can only be saved if they want to be, but the realization that she has no one else draws him back into the shadows of Kennedy’s life–and eventually into her bed. But she long ago came to terms with a truth that Toby refuses to accept: she doesn’t want to be rescued, she only wants to forget.
Unwilling to give up on her, Toby’s dragged under by this broken girl and her dark, twisted Whitman University he never guessed existed. If he struggles to the surface, he’ll abandon someone he loves for the second time in his life. If he doesn’t, it won’t be long until they both drown.
But the rich never have empty closets, and memories long stashed away come spilling free when notorious party girl Kennedy Gilbert almost dies in his dorm room.
Nobody really knows how Kennedy manages to stay in good standing at Whitman–she never goes to class, doesn’t pretend to care about her future, and as far as people can tell, is never sober. This isn’t her first meeting with a stomach pump, but it is the first time she’s woken up to Toby’s concerned brown eyes. Despite the fact that she prefers life without friends, he gets under her skin with his insistence on playing her guardian angel.
No one knows better than Toby that people can only be saved if they want to be, but the realization that she has no one else draws him back into the shadows of Kennedy’s life–and eventually into her bed. But she long ago came to terms with a truth that Toby refuses to accept: she doesn’t want to be rescued, she only wants to forget.
Unwilling to give up on her, Toby’s dragged under by this broken girl and her dark, twisted Whitman University he never guessed existed. If he struggles to the surface, he’ll abandon someone he loves for the second time in his life. If he doesn’t, it won’t be long until they both drown.
Once again Lyla Payne has shown us an aspect of what goes on
at every college campus across the nation…drug use. Toby was trying so hard to help Kennedy,
while dealing with his own demons. He wanted
to help her and love her. He knows how
destructive the life she is living can be to not only the person using but to
those who love and care about you. Toby
wasn’t my favorite in the first book of this series, Broken at Love, but
redeemed himself in Be My Downfall.
Kennedy was screwed up big time, she felt as though she didn’t
deserve to be happy, and sadly someone else in her past made sure she felt that
way. She couldn’t cope and turned into
the campus resident party girl, sleeping around and using drugs and alcohol to
feel. She honestly began to trust Toby
and have real feelings for him, but her demons made her doubt herself. Kennedy’s past broke my heart and I wanted
her to finally be happy.
I felt a connection with Toby, my uncle was an addict and
lost his battle with addiction years ago but even know thinking back on it still
hurts. I could feel his pain and
frustration when trying to get Kennedy help but knowing until she wanted it for
herself his effort was useless. I love
how this series isn’t scared to show the bad side of college life, not just the
good. It isn’t pretty at times and I
feel that sometimes authors would rather deal with the good and not ever focus
on the bad. I hope that there will be
more books to this series as I have enjoyed each book immensely so far.
Excerpt:
“Hey.” Kennedy’s eyes
looked blue today under her knitted cap. A matching scarf ringed her neck and
her cheeks and lips were rosy.
The sight of her, with the
fresh snow drifting down around us, looked like something off a postcard and
caught me off guard. She looked so damn normal—prettier than most girls, but
normal. “Hey. Enjoying your final runs?”
“Yeah. Headed up top for a
few more. You?”
Her change in attitude
from the other night left me feeling a little unmoored, but my default setting
of polite kicked into gear. “Me, too. Shall we?”
Kennedy hesitated for the
briefest of seconds, a flicker of indecision in her eyes, before nodding and
giving me a smile that could have lit half of St. Moritz. “Let’s do
it.”
We poled over to the lift
and waited our turn, then settled onto the cold metal chair together and got
situated for the fifteen-minute ride. The higher we went, the more astounding
the view. The sun dipped toward the horizon, coloring Switzerland with her own
personal halo.
“I’m sorry about the other
night. When I was rude to you at the bar. And for showing you my
ass.”
I snorted. “I have to tell
you, I didn’t mind the latter. And it’s fine.”
She scooted almost
imperceptibly closer, then scooted again, until the heat from her body founds
its way inside my ski clothes. She smelled like shampoo and snow, fresh like the
world around us and I breathed deep. It doused my brain like some
kind of drug.
When she reached out and
slid her arm through mine, though, it snapped me to attention. The about-face
was too much. “What are you doing?”
“Boys belong in boxes,
Wright. Anyone ever tell you that?”
“I have no idea what
you’re talking about. Are you nuts?”
She shot me a
conspiratorial smile and leaned closer, lowering her voice to a whisper even
though no one could possible overhear. “I’ve seen you at Dr. Porter’s. Are
you nuts?”
Embarrassment flooded my
cheeks with heat, stinging in the face of the chilly wind, and I fought the
instinct to pull away from her. So I saw a psychologist. So did eighty percent
of Whitman.
“Not most of the time,” I
replied, keeping my chin up.
“I’m fucking bats,” she
said, cheerfulness oozing from every pore.
The other morning, Kennedy
had seemed…not depressed, exactly, but not happy. Not like this. It made me
wonder if she was bi-polar, but the real reason probably had more to do with her
state of sobriety. Or maybe how honest she felt like being.
Those things might even be
connected.
“Anyway, boxes. Boys fit
in them so nicely—in a ‘too nice’ box, or one labeled ‘good fuck’ or maybe ‘run
for the hills he has no idea what to do with his penis’.” She cocked her head.
“I suppose there are teeny, tiny boxes for the ones that girls might actually be
able to stand for more than a night at a time, but I’ve never used
them.”
I didn’t tell her that I’d
never found a use for the last box, either. “Why are you telling me
this?”
“Because I want to put you
in one, but I can’t decide which.”
Heat spilled down into my
groin as she looked up into my face, pure suggestion burning in her bright eyes.
Her hand snuck over and rested between my legs, and even through ski pants there
was no way she missed what she’d set to life with the simplest of
comments.
Through the foggy desire
gumming up my brain, I tried to remember this was Kennedy Gilbert. Whitman’s
resident hot mess. I was pretty sure whatever she’d smoked or drank for
breakfast was rubbing my crotch right now, not her.
Get a grip, Wright. And
for Christ sakes get laid when you get home.
It took every ounce of
willpower to reach down and slide her hand away, back into her own lap. “Not
that one.”
“Which one? The ‘likes to
get off in public’ box? Noted. We’ll throw that one away. Bunch of fucking
weirdos.”
“You really are
odd.”
She nodded, settling back
on her side of the chair and pulling her poles loose. Our lift neared the top of
the mountain and I did the same, still struggling to shake loose the lust. When
she looked at me again, the proposition had disappeared from her gaze, leaving
cool detachment in its place. Her stare left me feeling abandoned, cast away,
which was silly but still true.
“You have to get in a box,
Wright.” She swallowed hard. “I can’t deal if you don’t.”
My skis hit the packed
snow at the top and training took over, propelling me off the seat and out of
the way of the people coming behind us. Kennedy was graceful on her skis,
gliding at my side until we reached the summit and looked down at the run
waiting for us. I wondered what she meant, or why it mattered to her if she
couldn’t figure me out.
“Wanna race?” She tipped
her chin my direction, her whole body radiating mischievousness, the moment of
desperate vulnerability I’d glimpsed on the chair lift long gone.
“If you’re into losing,” I
shrugged, puffing out my chest like an idiot.
Without warning she
switched both of her poles to one hand, grabbed the front of my jacket, and
planted a kiss on my mouth. Her soft lips tasted like strawberries and lingered,
her tongue flicking over my bottom lip for the briefest of seconds before she
pulled away.
I
couldn’t come up with one single response before she turned and headed down the
slope.
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Be-Downfall-Whitman-University-ebook/dp/B00FBMOXI2/ref=sr_1_2_title_0_main?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1380054845&sr=1-2&keywords=be+my+downfall
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6903785.Lyla_Payne
Website: http://lylapayne.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Lyla-Payne/355992971175349
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2 comments:
I haven't read this series yet however I loved my college days and still 13 years later reminisce. So I have all of these on my TBR list.
Wright, his honesty makes me happy.
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