Broken Pieces (6 page)

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Authors: B. E. Laine,Kim Young

Tags: #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Genre Fiction, #Contemporary, #Literature & Fiction

BOOK: Broken Pieces
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I take a chance and look up at him. He is just staring at me with this look that I can’t read. Is he mad? Why would he be mad at me? He wanted me to tell him. He is gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles are turning white and the veins are sticking out of his arm. He acts like he is trying to choose his next words.

I just look back down at my lap, silently waiting. I hear him muttering curses under his breath, which makes me glance back up at him. His whole hand is white now and he is shaking. For some reason, instead of being scared or trying to get out of the car and run to my dorm, I just have a feeling of wanting to soothe him.

“Hey … Drew. It’s okay. Calm down. I’m sorry,” I say, as gentle as I can, hoping to break this trance he’s in.

Abruptly, he snaps out of it, searing me with his wrathful eyes. “Don’t … don’t you
ever
be sorry, Karaline. Do you understand me?” At first, his voice was brutally angry, but he ended in a soothing tone. I nod and he nods back. He turns his head to look out the window again.

I give him time to calm down. I’m not sure what I should do … leave or stay? I don’t know if he still wants to talk, or if he would just like the messed-up girl to get out of his car.

He interrupts my thoughts. “Who is he?” By the tone in his voice, I know not to argue with him.

“Just a guy from where I’m originally from … a small town a few hours away.” He just nods his head again, but I can see his jaw tighten.

The silence is killing me, and it’s getting late, so I say, “I’m going to go, okay?” Why did that come out like I’m asking him? “It’s getting late …” I’m hoping he will speak to me, but I don’t understand why I’m explaining myself.

He takes a deep breath. “If that’s what you want, but I would like for you to stay and talk to me.”

“Okay. What do you want to talk about?” I’m uncertain of where this is going.

He still doesn’t talk, just cautiously reaches over and pulls my hands apart. I didn’t realize that I was still clasping them in my lap. He holds my hand and everything inside me is awake now. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Karaline. No one, especially you, deserved that. Okay?” He looks at me with tenderness all over his face.

“Okay.” I look down.

He takes his free hand and lifts my chin up. He waits until I am looking him straight in the eyes. “Don’t …” I slowly nod, then he takes his hand and puts it against the side of my face. He starts rubbing my cheek with his thumb. I lean into his hand, closing my eyes, relishing in the feeling of comfort and protectiveness.

My eyes flutter open. I don’t remember the last time I have felt that sense of calmness. As I look into his caring eyes and feel his delicate touch on my cheek, he starts to lean forward. He stops to make sure I know what he’s doing, like he is waiting for the okay from me. Nothing else has ever felt this right.

I lean in the rest of the way, and he takes my mouth into the most luscious tender kiss I could ever have imagined from a guy like him. With the rough exterior of ample muscles and abundant tattoos, I would have never expected this kind of compassion.

His lips are so soft, so luscious. There were no words for the feeling when they touched mine. I felt like I could almost combust. I want to keep this feeling in me somehow. No one can hurt me when he is touching me. I do not know what it is, but there is something about him that I know I’m not going to be able to let go.

He breaks the kiss and leans his forehead onto mine, closing his eyes. “You are perfect,” he says, breathless.

A laugh escapes that I didn’t even know I had in me. For some reason, that was really funny to me. Is this guy seriously delusional? Not only am I nowhere near perfect on the outside, he should know, after what I just told him, that I am not even close to perfect on the inside, either.

“Hey … don’t do that. Don’t start putting yourself down in your head. You
are
a great person.”

“Drew, you don’t even know me so you don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, shaking my head and rolling my eyes.

“I’m a pretty good judge of character, if I say so myself.” He puts his hand on his chest comically, making me laugh again. Just like that, all the tension in the air was gone.

“Oh, really?” I question, raising my eyebrows.

Shrugging his shoulders, he says, “I’m just saying, sweetheart.”

I just smile and shake my head. I glance at the clock on his dash. Four in the morning?! Holy shit! I haven’t stayed up this late since … hell, I don’t even remember. I look back at him, and he acts like he knows what I’m going to say before I even say it. I sigh. “I should probably get to my room.”

“Yeah, I should probably get home, too. I have work in a few hours,” he states, dreadfully.

“Oh, no! I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have kept you out so late.”
Crap!
I don’t want him to be tired tomorrow because of me.
Ugh!
I’m horrible.

“It’s fine, Kara. Please don’t worry about it.”

“No, I’m sorry. You’re going to be tired all day tomorrow now because of me,” I say, really feeling like shit.

“Hey, what did I tell you about the ‘I’m sorry’ business? Huh?” he says, as he takes my face in both his hands and places a light kiss on my lips. Oh, those soft, full lips again. I could get lost in those all night. No, he has work! I can’tt keep thinking of myself.

“Well, I guess I’m going to go so you can go get some sleep.” It is so obvious that I do not want to leave.

“I feel the same way. I don’t want to leave. Whatever is going on between us, I don’t want it to end.”

There he goes reading my mind again. “I know …” I do understand where he is coming from because I am on the same page. I have not dated or anything with a guy in almost five years. It feels strange. I’m scared that I might not be … I don’t know … up-to-date on everything that inquires dating. I have really kept to myself over the years, learned to keep my feelings at bay. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to move on. I did it to protect myself from getting hurt again. Now here I am considering this. I am going to have to be careful and keep my feelings at a distance for a little while. I have to make sure he’s real.

He kissed me one last time before I got out of his car. I’m walking on cloud nine towards my dorm door. The last kiss gave me same feeling as the first. If it’s like that every time, I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to keep the walls up.

I turn around when I get to my door. He is still sitting there to make sure I get in okay. He tried to insist on walking me, but I told him to go ahead and leave so he could get home to catch some sleep. Honestly, if he didn’t leave, I might have been tempted to sneak his hot ass into my room. I reminded myself that if we’re going to try and get to know each other, it would not be the way to start out. So we gave each other our numbers, and he told me he would text me from work when he had a chance. Since I have the weekend off before classes and my new internship program starts, I’m going to have to find something to keep me busy so I won’t look so desperate waiting on his texts. I could do some laundry or clean out my room … oh, am I kidding? I’ll be hanging on every last text he sends me like a freaking teenage girl.

That is probably what scares me the most … feeling like some love sick puppy, or just some crush that will end up making me want to go live in a cave. I know I can’t be like this forever. I knew it would happen eventually. Okay, maybe I just
hoped
that I would meet a guy that I could be attracted to. I have felt like HE ruined that for me because I couldn’t look at a man and not think that he could be like that. I knew him … well, obviously, I didn’t, but I thought I did so it makes me wonder how much you can really know someone. After it happened, I used to ask why couldn’t it have been a stranger at least, not someone that I trusted at one point.

For years, the thought of telling anybody what happened had me scared to death. I didn’t know if they would turn their back on me, or think I was a whore and asked for it, like Aaron did. To have your boyfriend at the time accuse you of something like that was even more heartbreaking.

I know I only spent one night with Drew, but we talked so much that I feel like telling him was the right choice. Never in a million years did I think I would tell anyone, let alone a guy that I just met. I know I would have never ended up with him if I wouldn’t have been drinking, and I never would have been drinking if Lauren hadn’t conned me into going tonight.

Speaking of that little devil, I wonder what was up with her telling me she knew him. When I said her name, I could tell by the look on his face that he had no clue who I was talking about. She is going to pay for that one.

 

 

 

I make it back in my dorm room. I can tell that Lauren is crawled up under her bright pink comforter so I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to let her have it. However, if she wouldn’t have lied to me, I wouldn’t have had the best and worst night in my life. So it’s on the boarder of kissing her ass or chewing her ass. I’m still thinking the latter.

I awake to the sun streaming through the curtains, hitting me right in the face. Ugh, I haven’t stayed up that late in years. Did last night really happen? Did I really spill my guts to a total stranger, stay out all night with him, and kiss him?! No way …

I lean over to unplug my phone from the charger, and to see how long I slept. I never have any messages so when I unlock my phone and find TWO new messages, I’m a little more than surprised.

First text message at 7:30 AM:

 

Hey, beautiful! I am up and ready for work! Told ya’ I’d be okay … Hope to hear from you later!

 

Second text 10:00 AM:

 

Coffee is my new best friend, but I wouldn’t have traded last night for anything … thank-you for going to eat with me. I hope you’re having a great day!

 

Wow,
I guess I’m not going to be waiting around for a text from him because I got not one but TWO cute morning texts! This giddy feeling when I think of him scares me to death, but I think it’s about time I start living a little. This is my last semester of college. I deserve a little fun. What do I have to lose? Well, everything I’ve worked for and tried to get away from. Maybe, I should think twice about all of this first. Maybe I can talk to Lauren, see what she thinks I should do. I’m not going to tell her everything, but … wait, I still need to talk to that little …

I look over to her side of the room to find her bed not made, but she’s not in it. So I get up and get ready for my day. Throwing on a pair of stretchy shorts and a tank, because August heat in Oklahoma is brutal, I gather up all my dirty clothes and head out toward my car. I don’t even make it there without some jerk from my one of my classes screaming across the parking lot, something about my ass. I don’t understand it because I don’t put myself out there. I go to class and to work. I know I was a social outcast my first three years at college so why scream at me when it is unwanted attention? I can clearly see Amy, one of the biggest sluts around, standing with her arms crossed and looking mad. Trust me, Miss Slut, I don’t want his attention; please, take it! I open the trunk to my car and toss my basket full of clothes in.

Hopefully, since it is only 10:45AM, there won’t be too many students at the Laundromat down the street. Maybe they will still be hung over from last night. I pull in and see only two other cars here. Thank goodness! I drag my laundry basket inside and take the first open washer, not even looking around. I like to keep to myself because it’s less drama that way, and I don’t get mixed up in something I don’t want to be in. It’s easier.

As I sit here reading some random magazine, I swear that the washer is taking longer this time than at other times. Okay, I know that’s not it. It is my cell phone that is burning a hole in my pocket. I think I should make him sweat a little. I don’t want to come off to eager, even though I am, but I do want to date. There is just something about him, though. I feel like I am fourteen again and talking to boys for the first time. Maybe I should start everything over.

I pull out my phone to see if I have any more messages. No, but I didn’t think I would so I open his first text. It’s rude not to text back, right? So I type a short message back. I try to not to sound too eager, but I don’t want him to think I don’t want to talk to him.

 

Sorry again about keeping you out late! Yeah, a grand ol’ day doing laundry, yuck! Hope you’re having a good day at work!

 

I hope that wasn’t too much. I
was
responding to two texts. I shove it back in my pocket, and switch my laundry over to the dryers. Sitting back down, I pick up the same magazine three times, and my knee is bouncing up and down a million miles a minute. Why does a text from this guy have me so on edge? I turn in my chair, look out the big windows, and watch people going about their Saturday mornings as if this world has no problems. Sometimes I wish everything was perfect in this world. Yeah, that is asking too much. Plus, if everyone was perfect, I wouldn’t have a job when I graduate. After everything that had happened, it hit me what I should do with my life. I should take what happened to me and make something better out of it. I want to be there for the girls that feel like no one will believe them. I know I’m not the only girl in this world with a secret. Maybe I’m crazy for thinking I can make a difference, but I figured that I should do something that is close to my heart so I picked Clinical Counseling.

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