Beyond hell . Tristan hadn’t bothered to shave for a week. He’d barely managed to shower and stumble into his classes. Carter had threatened to shove him out on his arse in the snow if he didn’t clean up for the party tonight. But none of it mattered. Kat had shut him out of her life. The spark of something deep and hot between them had been buried by her closing the door that night. The finality of her decision had ripped through him so hard he’d been unable to drive for several minutes after leaving her dormitory. Instead, he’d wandered the snowy grounds, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his mind trying to sort through the pain and the anger over her rejection. When he’d finally come home that night, he’d poured every bit of his soul into the nearest glass of brandy and hadn’t come out of the bottle since. “You look like bloody hell,” Carter mused from the doorway. His smug grin made Tristan growl and clench his fists around the soft towel as he wiped his face dry.
