Breathe Me (A 'Me' Novel) (4 page)

I awoke with a stiff neck and a sore back, and for a minute I was lost as to why. Oh, that’s right, last night. I carefully rolled over onto my side and saw it was still dark outside, so I guessed it was early morning, maybe five. I flicked on my bedside lamp, reached for a book from my small bookshelf by my bed, and began to read about a love story of the epic kind. One where the guy fights hard for the girl and wins her over with three magic words. I overdosed on this shit. Romance and lasting love and happily-ever-afters were my kryptonite. I read until I started to daydream about a day where love would find me. Not that I’d even know what it was supposed to look like—I had nothing to base it on. But then I heard my mother’s voice in my head like nails on a chalkboard.
Who’s going to love you? Look at you.

As usual, this was enough to make me feel like shit again, and I stopped daydreaming. I read until the sun started to rise, then I got up and got ready for work. I passed by my closet mirror and studied myself. I looked at my skinny but flabby arms, my slightly bigger than average nose, and my dull reddish-brown hair. I took in my malnourished-looking stomach and pale legs. What could someone ever see in me? Then I stared at my breasts. I liked them. My chest was the only thing on my body that I thought was prefect, despite what my mother said about it. Twisting in the mirror, I looked at the thighs that could be more toned and a butt that could be more round. Something for someone to hold onto. At least that was what they all said in the books. I caught sight of my back and saw the foot-sized bruise just above my tailbone. It stared back at me, deep purple and mocking, mocking because I wasn’t strong enough.

“Fuck you,” I said to the bruise, to my monster, to me.

I put on my clothes, taking care not to stretch out my back too much. I tied my hair in a ponytail at the base of my neck, ignoring the knot that was going to be the cause of a dull headache all day. I slipped on my flats because it hurt to bend down to tie my sneakers.

“Ready to be someone you’re not?” I asked my reflection. She stared back, unsmiling.

I paused at my door and listened. Hearing nothing, I eased out and shut it quietly behind me. I breathed a small sigh of relief when I passed her door and heard her snoring softly on the other side. I made my escape unscathed. Now I was safe.

I started walking to the bookstore with a bounce in my step and a smile on my face. For the next eight hours, I’d be free. Even if the day sucked mothballs, I wouldn’t care.

My phone chirped, and before I even took the phone out of my bag, I knew it was Ember. She was the only other person I knew who’d be awake at this hour. She sent a text telling me that Matt’s brother blew them off last night as well and asking when can we try again. I texted her back, saying that I was booked for the next few nights, and made up some random names of guys whom I would supposedly be blowing. We texted a few more times and finally ended with her telling me she would stop by to have lunch with me since she was off today. I rounded the corner to ’wormz and noticed a few cars in the parking lot already.

No releases of new material were set to come out today, so these customers were probably the early morning creepers. Just what I needed.

Stopping, I swallowed a half a pill and plastered on an “I’m happy to help you, you weirdo who gets out of bed this early in the morning to come to a bookstore” smile and rushed across the parking lot. Because life wanted to throw me a big “fuck you” this early in the morning, I tripped, my bag flew from my hands, and everything fell out of it. Everything.

“Fuck, really?” I stared at my stuff, willing it to go back in my bag magically, when I heard a voice that should not be familiar to me already but it was.

“Need a hand?”

And there he stood. Looking all James Dean in
Rebel Without a Cause
, popped collar and all, except if I remembered correctly, Dystopian Biker had more muscle underneath that tight black tee and leather jacket.

“Hello.” He waved a hand in front of my face, and at that moment, I realized I hadn’t replied to him yet.

Shit, I’d gone catatonic.

I was pretty sure he thought I had turned into a statue, but I was struck stupid and motionless by him. He was a guy who would be described in a book as being take-my-virginity hot. In the sun’s light, I could see the definition of his strong jawline and the subtle five-o’clock shadow he was rocking at almost eight in the morning. His features were sharp and hard, like they were carved out of stone, giving him that edgy look that all bad boys had. But what had me losing my brain cells were his eyes—the stark storm-gray that looked back at me seemed to see further into me than anyone had ever bothered to look.

Past my fakeness.

“Um, Harley?” He chuckled. Oh god, that sound…that sound almost made my knees buckle. He had to be a god of some kind. I swallowed the tumbleweed in my throat and tried to act normal. Yeah, that wasn’t gonna happen.

“No, um, no, I’m okay,” I managed after my tongue started to work. Without thinking, I bent down to pick up my things and get the fuck away from him before I demanded I have his babies or something stupid, but I snapped back up from the pain that radiated from my back. I’d forgotten about that. I’d forgotten about it all for a minute, but the pain made it all come back.

“Shit.” I winced, resisting the urge to massage the pain.

“You all right? Did you jerk your back?” He reached out, then stopped, but I didn’t miss the look of concern that flashed across his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” But when I reached again, my back screamed at me that I wasn’t. Dammit!

Without a word, he bent down and picked up the crap from my purse, pausing only long enough for me to curse the world again on my prescription bottle before he shoved that back in the bag, too.

“Thanks, I guess I didn’t notice that”—I looked around him to see what I’d tripped on and saw absolutely nothing—“sidewalk there,” I finished lamely.

“It happens. You sure you’re good?” He was staring at me with those intensely seeing eyes. Like he knew.

“Yeah, I must have slept wrong or something.” I grabbed my bag out of his hand and attempted to make the smooth exit I should have made one minute ago, but he held fast to the strap.

“Hold up, you are not wondering why I’m here so early?” he asked with a smile that caused a flutter in my stomach that I only associated with reading steamy romance novels.

“It’s a store. I assume you want to buy something?” Yeah, that sounded much more like my fake than the earlier idiot.

“I like it,” he said, eyes slowly roaming over my body like he was committing every part of me to memory. His gaze started at my crappy shoes and slowly roamed over my body, slowly fucking me, pausing long enough on my breasts to cause heat to flood into my cheeks, then finally making their way to my face, locking eyes with me. And he made no apology for it. Did he just slowly fuck me with his eyes, like I’d read about in books?

“Excuse me?” I managed.

“The book.” He smirked and pulled the book I recommended to him yesterday from behind him where he must have tucked it when he came to help me. He handed it to me.

“Oh, okay. Thanks for coming here to tell me that. The receipt has a number on it that you can call and do a customer satisfaction survey,” I said, trying to bring this back to the professional side of things. The way he was making me feel was not very customer friendly, and after his little eye show, I knew he thought the same.

“I wanted another recommendation. This book kinda fucked with me.” He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Think about it, though. I want it to be able to top this shit.” His words were innocuous, but his voice was gruff. He winked as he walked away to some car that screamed “tough” and got behind the wheel, leaving me standing there holding his book and still not knowing his name, all of which just made him hotter.

Damn.

After that, it didn’t matter what happened. I was blissfully on cloud nine. Someone flipped all the books around in the mystery section so their titles didn’t show? No problem, I’d reorganize it. I have to do inventory all day in the back? No problem, I got this. All because some incredibly hot guy had eye sex with my body and made me feel…made me…feel real.

The rest of the day was filled with the normal traffic of people wanting books and needing help finding that one book they fell in love with as a child and then lost and now
has
to have it. My back wasn’t aching too badly, thanks to the pain pills I had popped at the start of my shift. And as long as I didn’t bend down suddenly or turn swiftly, I was okay. Ember and Matt came by around one to have lunch with me, and to try to convince me again to give this blind date thing a try.

“Really, Har, what do you have to lose? A night without Kade or Stone or whoever you meet in some skivvy alley pawing on you?” Ember whined. Where did she think I met guys? She made it sound like I fucked anything that had a pulse. Damn.

“Em, I’m not a whore. I don’t just spread eagle for any guy no matter how awesome their names are.” Fake me did have standards that apparently I was not upholding. I couldn’t have Ember thinking I gave it to every Stone, Kade, and Larry who crossed my path.

“No, it’s cool, babe. My brother is not a step up from those guys she meets, trust me,” Matt stated before popping a fry in his mouth. He was such a classic-looking surfer dude. Even though we lived in Alabama and had some of the most beautiful beaches around, you never saw anyone like Matt. He just looked like he belonged on TV rather than lame-ass Dacula.

“So you’re trying to set me up with a loser?” I might not have ever been on a blind date, but I knew if the setupee didn’t think it would stick, then the date was doomed.

“No, he’s not a loser, he’s just…rough around the edges. My brother has a chip on his shoulder that he thinks the world put there, and by the world, I mean my family. He has issues with our father, and we have never really been that close. Hell, I basically had to beg him to come back. He couldn’t wait to get out on his own and away from us all.”

“It’s his loss,” Ember soothed.

I inwardly rolled my eyes. So what if people wanted to leave? In my book, family was overrated. They always hurt you.

“Well, he sounds like a peach. What can I ever do to repay you for this blind date?” I rolled my eyes. I mean, really, their selling point was going downhill fast. I was supposed to be excited about this, right?

“Well, from what Em tells me, your guys have the same
personality
,”
Matt said almost apologetically.

I raised a brow at him. Just what was he saying here? Oh, I know.
I’m a ho.

Ember made a noise in the back of her throat and looked at me as if to say, “Well, he’s not wrong,” but just shrugged.

I asked for this. Fuck it. Go big or go home, and I hated going home. I pulled on my most nonchalant face and said, “You know, I might give this guy a turn. I like ’em dirty.” I licked my lips. “If he can keep up. Text me later.”

I left before they could respond. I didn’t need to hear them talk up or down about Matt Sr. It kind of bothered me that they thought hooking me up with a loser was okay, but I guess it was my fault. I could have made myself into anything else other than a self-proclaimed whore who would get down and nasty with anyone. I could have been who I really was, a quiet, weak, and shy bookworm virgin. But that girl was broken. The shit that girl was hiding, no one would put up with or love her like she so urgently wanted to be loved. So she stayed hidden behind this girl with the tough exterior who lets nothing bother her and loses herself in sex. I’d be that girl until it didn’t hurt anymore to be myself.

Chapter 6

Harley

Since my shift started so early, I got off while it was still daylight outside. The walk home was filled with dread. She was probably still in a bad mood from yesterday, and I didn’t want to make her more upset by being late. As I rounded the corner, my heart was seized by the fear so tightly wrapped around it. I saw movement in the window, which meant she was waiting for me to get home. Shit. Taking a deep, calming breath that didn’t really calm me, I walked in. She was sitting on the couch watching some soap opera and didn’t even look up. But I knew from experience it wasn’t her who needed to say something first.

“Hi, Mom,” I said meekly.

“Is that all you have to say to me?” She turned to me with an expectant look.

I knew what she wanted, and if I didn’t give it to her, then last night would seem like a cakewalk.

“I’m sorry about upsetting you last night,” I said. “It won’t happen again.” I looked down at my feet. I knew deep down that apologizing for something I was the victim in was bullshit, but I couldn’t not apologize. I couldn’t.

“You damn right you’re sorry, and you will probably do it again. You’re a fuckup,” she spit out. “How do you expect someone to want you if you can’t even get dinner to the table without fucking it up?”

I focused on the way her face morphed into this monster who didn’t love me and got her rocks off by making me cry. But she was all I had, my monster who, when I was seven, thought it was funny to hold my hand over a hot burner and dared me to let my arm get tired.

I didn’t say anything. It was better that way. When she turned back to the TV, I knew that was my cue to leave, so I did. Escaping to my room, I pulled out my phone and saw a text from Ember telling me where they were going later and that Matt Sr. was supposed to stop by because it was “your kind of place,” which meant it was a bar. I hit her with a vague “maybe” and went to shower, letting the hot water hit my back to release some of the tense muscles.
They will fade. They will fade
, I kept repeating to myself while I gingerly washed my back and body.

Once back in my room, I put on some yoga pants and a tank top and grabbed my book from this morning. I texted Ember and told her that I was busy with some guy named Mic and would see her later, to which she responded with an “eye roll” and that I should stop by the bar when I was done, because they would be out late. I put on my headphones and shuffled my songs, even though the thought of having my hearing blocked terrified me. Music was my escape just as much as books. I set the volume to low—I needed to hear if she came in—grabbed one of my favorite books, then lost myself in a world I wished I belonged to.