Tucker Scott shot tequila with the salt from my tears and chased it with the blood from the knife he stabbed through my back. I never knew the true meaning of the word hatred until my world collided with his. Now I was in too deep and too damn stubborn to run away – even if I desperately needed to. The academy boys told me to buckle up because I was in for one hell of a school year. Little did I know how right they would be. Trouble never tasted so sweet... Warning: Because of its explicit sexual content, mature themes, triggers, and bad language, Nights at Westwood is suitable for mature readers of seventeen years and above.