Break Away (The Moore Brothers Book 4) (2 page)

“
I
so totally can’t do this,” Lilah said as she looked around at the dingy walls in her tiny box of an apartment. Why had she ever agreed to her brothers’ stupid bet? Because she was a Moore and Moores were stubborn, that’s why. She plopped down on the couch—one of the few pieces of furniture she had been allowed to bring—and put her head in her hands.

Maybe she had more to drink than she thought she had that night. Maybe that’s why she had been so gung-ho about the whole thing. Once her brothers had seen how set she was on proving that she could live on her own, they had started an official Moore Brother Bet that she couldn’t last six months out here on her own supporting herself. And to make matters worse, they had started putting limitations on what she could bring with her, and because she was in the middle of being a stubborn ass, she just went ahead and agreed with everything they said.

When they said she could only bring necessary pieces of furniture like the couch, her bed, and her dresser, she had just nodded her head like that made total sense.

When they said she could only bring one week’s worth of clothes—nothing from a designer label, of course—and only one pair of pajamas—one pair! Apparently, because she liked to sleep in luxurious fabrics, that meant her silk pj’s were too expensive for someone just moving out to afford—she told them that wouldn’t be a big deal at all.

She also foolishly agreed that her car was too luxurious and agreed to borrow Ellie’s old junker in order to get the full, Out On Her Own experience. The thing had to be a million years old and smelled a little funny. Okay. A lot funny. Ellie had told her not to trust it on long trips, but that didn’t faze Lilah. Oh no.

All the better
, she said.

Bring it on
, she said.

What had she been thinking?

She agreed that she would start a new checking account and only put three thousand dollars in there. She wasn’t allowed to touch the money in her old account because it was Daddy’s money. And here's the super duper extra fun part. She was in charge of making the rest of the money she needed to live on. By getting a job. With her zero experience.

She brought one pot. One pan. A chipped plate set they found at Goodwill and some cheap silverware they bought at Walmart. Her brothers gleefully deducted all the money she spent on supplies from the three thousand in her account and for whatever reason, at the time, that made her all the more determined not to buy much and her apartment was an exercise in minimalism.

Oh, and she had to find an apartment outside of her hometown of Bliss, South Carolina, because everyone in her home town knew who she was and for some reason, having people know that she was
the
Lilah Moore, the one with the rich Mommy and Daddy, the one who was part of the near-celebrity status family, well that wouldn’t do. She had to be anonymous for some reason that seemed really important to her brothers.

After asking Juliet, Willow, and Ellie about their first jobs and discovering that Juliet and Ellie had been waitresses out of high school and Willow—who was a ballet dancer and already earning a salary by the time she was eighteen—had lots of dancer friends who took up waitressing jobs, Lilah had proudly proclaimed that she would get a job waiting tables.

So, here she was, four days into living on her own and she hated every fucking second of it. She was almost out of clothes and since she wasn’t allowed to bring her washer and dryer, she was going to have to find a laundromat within the next day or so. Dishes were piling up because it turned out doing dishes was awful. And cooking sucked. And the job situation had turned out pretty dire, too.

In her mind, if she got a job at one of the higher end restaurants in one of the bigger cities, not only would she fit in better with the clientele, she would make bigger tips. So, she would have to drive a little farther to get there. That wasn’t such a big deal, if she made better money. But surprise! The higher end restaurants want to hire waitresses with experience and since Lilah had no experience in any job of any kind, they had all pretty much laughed her out of the interview. And, of course, Ellie’s junker had broken down on the way home from the last interview and Lilah had needed to call a tow truck and pay for the cost of getting it fixed.

Which sucked.

So, here she was, living in a ratty apartment, driving a ratty car, without a job, and her bank account was draining like a leaky boat. This was
so
not fun and she totally wanted to move back into the guesthouse in her parent’s backyard.
So
wanted her luxurious pj’s back. Wanted to eat meals cooked by people who knew what they were doing. Wanted a closetful of gorgeous clothes that she didn’t have to wash herself because someone else did it for her. And good god, she wanted her car back.

But that would mean admitting she was wrong. Admitting that her brothers were right and she couldn’t handle life out here in the ‘real world’—whatever that meant. Her old life felt real enough—and she just couldn’t do that. They would never let her live it down. Besides, she was Lilah Moore and that meant she could do anything she wanted.

She glanced at the dirty dishes in the kitchen the pan from this morning’s breakfast caked with scrambled eggs, the pile of plates that had migrated out of the sink and crawled onto every bit of counter space. They would have to just keep waiting because it was noon and she had an interview at four and the pool was calling her. That was the one decent thing about living here. The pool. Even if she did have to share it with all the other people who lived here at Seaside Apartments.

Ha! Seaside. She couldn’t even smell the ocean they were so far away from seaside.

Oh well. Time to make the best of the day and that meant it was bikini time! Lilah ran upstairs and changed into her bikini—a hot pink thing that just gleamed on her sun-kissed skin—and pulled her hair up into a high bun. She grabbed her sunscreen, a towel, a bottle of water, and her Kindle and trudged over to the pool in the oppressive July heat. Dear lord, was it ever hot. Any hotter and her cheap ass flip-flops would melt themselves right to the pavement.

Lilah pushed through the gate that was somehow supposed to keep non-residents out of the pool and cringed at the sheer number of people already there. The water seethed with children splashing and screeching and swarms of parents had claimed just about every single available chair. Lilah made a beeline to the last free one, eager to have a place to stretch out even if there were towels on the chairs on either side. She would have preferred finding a seat that was a little more isolated, but, since this was the last one, it would have to do.

She pulled her towel out of her bag and laid it out. Sat down and started lathering sunscreen on her legs. Her gaze settled on the water and the one adult occupant swimming laps, somehow oblivious to, and completely not bothered by the herd of children sending the water into a great frothing mess.

He attacked the water with a singular focus, his long arms reaching out in front of him and pulling his body forward. His legs kicking out with a confident determination behind him. From what she could see, he was tanned a dark brown and his body had the long muscles of an Olympic swimmer. Lilah leaned back in her chair, keeping her eyes on him. Her mom had always told her it wasn't polite to stare, but Lilah had never let that stop her.

He didn’t seem like he was a parent to any of the rug rats in the pool. Nor did he have the same, at ease appearance of the adults lounging around the water. He was determined. Single-minded in his exercise. And somehow, the children stayed out of his way, leaving his path clear, as if they knew better than to get in the way of where he wanted to go. As Lilah watched, the man came to a stop, grasping the wall and shaking the water out of his sun-bleached hair. He ran his hands over his face and took several long breaths before pulling himself out of the pool.

His muscles flexed and stood out like long cords across his body and Lilah’s jaw dropped open. Holy shit, this man was built! Hot damn! If his face was as jaw dropping as his body, she was going to have to figure out a way to introduce herself.

The man walked right towards her, his long strides causing the muscles in his torso and legs to twitch and flex. As he got closer, she thought maybe he was just a few years older than her, his face tanned and rugged, almost weather-beaten somehow, although that didn't make a whole lot of sense on someone in their mid to late twenties. His arms looked powerful and his hands looked strong and she could just imagine them running along her body, setting her skin on fire. He shook out his hair again as he plopped down on the chair directly beside hers, rubbing a towel over his head to finish drying.

Of course, he looked up just as she was staring directly at him. Their eyes locked and she gasped at the … what was it? Hardness? His eyes were a stormy blue, like the color of the restless sea, but they glinted with something she couldn’t understand. She felt exposed as they raked over her body. Like he cut through to the very essence of who she was and cast judgment on all her doings, past, present, and future.

It was raw. Personal. Almost crude. It set her teeth on edge and Lilah didn’t like it. She scowled at him, her eyebrows and lips pursing together in a pout. People didn’t look at her like that. When people looked at her, they smiled. The look in their eyes practically begged her to like them and smile at them and want to be with them. This judgmental hardness wasn’t going to fly.

To make matters worse, the man actually smiled at her discomfort. A broad, vibrant grin stretched across his face, transforming his eyes from stormy to vivid. His straight, white teeth stood out from his tanned face and Lilah noticed just a hint of blonde stubble across his chin and jaw.

Great smile or not, Lilah was not impressed. She turned her gaze out to the pool, yanking it away from Mr. Chiseled Abs McJudgy-pants and pulled her phone out her bag. What this moment needed was a soundtrack. She opened up Pandora, flipping through her stations until she found one perfect for sitting out in the sun on a lazy Sunday. As the swimmer strutted past her chair on his way out of the pool, Lilah popped in her ear buds and stretched out, keeping her eyes plastered on his fantastic ass as he walked away. Just because she didn’t like him, didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the view.

* * *

T
he time
at the pool was fantastic, right up until one of the rug rats decided to do a cannonball into the water right in front of her. Water rushed out of the pool, drenching her bag and everything in it, and shocking her right out of a delightful dream that spotlighted powerful blue eyes, tanned skin, and hard muscles that felt damn good under her hands. In comparison, the cold pool water hitting her sun-warmed skin felt pretty damn awful. She gathered her soaked stuff and left the pool in a huff.

The dishes in the sink taunted her as she walked in the front door, but she ignored them and grabbed a handful of Cheez-its and a bottle of water before she went up to get ready for her interview. She didn’t have a lot of hope about this one. Not only had she bombed the last several interviews—apparently,
I’m Lilah Moore, yes the Lilah Moore
wasn’t enough to land a job—but this particular restaurant was local and not very high-end. Okay. Not at all high-end. In fact, it was at the complete opposite end of high-end.

Lilah sighed at her empty closet and full laundry basket. Not only was she not exactly overwhelmed with choices, but she wasn’t at all a fan of the clothes she had been allowed to bring. With a roll of her eyes, she plucked a cheap blousy top off a hanger and paired it with a jean skirt and the one pair of sandals her brothers had deemed acceptably cheap for their little experiment. She took a shower with her Walmart soaps, just imagining her skin drying out under the harsh additives or whatever they put in there. She washed her hair and hopped out of the shower, missing her straightener for like the millionth time since she moved in here. Apparently, since the thing had cost more than the average straightener, it was also deemed unworthy of the experiment and her brothers had put it on the Too Good to Bring list.