If I Break THE COMPLETE SERIES Bundle (6 page)

Sometimes, even if briefly, he’s funny, fun, and open like he used to be. Other times, he can be a total bitch, which is not fun for anyone but him. When I first met him, I thought he was mysterious. Now I try to remember if he was this moody when I met him, and I was just blinded by his good looks and carefree attitude.

“S
omeone’s getting all dressed up,” my roommate, Hillary, teases as I put my hair in a French braid.

“Well, he says we’re going to do something fun, so I’m dressing casually.” I defend myself, referring to my sweater and blue jeans. Of course she thinks I should be wearing a skirt that barely covers my ass and a tight blouse—what she wears on her dates.

Hillary and I are like night and day. She’s a statuesque blonde. Well, when she’s wearing her natural color. I was blond once in an experiment that went terribly wrong. Normally though, I’m brunette and only reach five foot five with the aid of four-inch heels. I’m content to spend my nights off work wrapped up in a good book or watching a movie. Hillary, on the other hand, loves to drag me down to the club to go party all night.

I can’t blame her. We both grew up in small towns in Michigan, but our childhoods couldn’t have been more different. Hillary’s father is a well-known preacher and kept her and her sister on a pretty tight leash. She says her mother didn’t do much to loosen it.

My parents died in a car crash when I was three, so I don’t have the luxury of complaining about an overbearing dad or sheepish mom. My aunt Raven raised me, and her parenting style was the perfect mix of discipline and freedom, which isn’t bad for a woman who never wanted kids.

I guess being the girl with a dad who wouldn’t even let her go to school dances means she’s just making up for lost time and enjoying her new freedom. Somewhere within me, I admire her free spirit. She never lets anything bring her down, and she does what she wants regardless of what other people say or think about her. She’s dyed her long curly hair different colors more times than I can count and is the only person I’ve ever met who wears purple and green contacts over her gorgeous baby blues. I sometimes wonder if she’s bipolar and on a constant high.

“Maybe when he says fun, he means
fun
.” She snickers, wiggling her eyebrows.

I look back at her and can’t help but laugh. “First off, I don’t even know this guy. So there’s not going to be any of that kind of
fun
.”

“Well, of course not 
that
 kind of fun. Tight pants Lauren Brooks isn’t revealing
Victoria’s Secret
 to just anyone.” She laughs and flops onto my bed.

“You’re five seconds away from being locked out of my room,” I tell her playfully while putting on my gym shoes.

“It’s not like anything 
fun
 goes on in here anyway,” she says mockingly with a wink.

I pout at her, and she laughs.

“Aw, girly. You know I love you. Besides, I want to hear all about the guy who was able to talk you into a date with him after just one drink,” she says, flipping through a magazine on my bed.

“It wasn’t a drink. In fact, he doesn’t drink, which I think is a plus. It was just a conversation, and we have a lot in common. I thought it would be fun,” I say, turning around to face her.

I ask God to forgive me for lying. We didn’t have a long conversation; he had clients waiting for him and asked me out before he disappeared into the night, so to speak. I don’t know if I have anything in common with him. I just know he’s one of the sexiest men I have ever seen and he literally had me at a loss for words.

I don’t know why I’m reluctant to tell Hillary that. Well, more like embarrassed. I hope my cheeks aren’t burning at the thoughts I’m having about him—thoughts I shouldn’t be having before I’ve even gone out with him. He sent me a text about the date. I was hoping for a phone call, but I’m pretty sure verbal communication is going to die out soon anyway.

“A lot in common, huh?” she says sarcastically, as if she knows my secret.

“Yes, a lot in common,” I repeat, maintaining my innocence.

She’s about to say something else, but the doorbell rings, interrupting her. She jumps from the bed and bolts to the door, yelling, “I’ll get it!”

I go to grab my jacket and bag, glancing at myself once more in the mirror. I walk out and see Cal standing in the doorway, looking quite different from the last time I saw him. His blazer and slacks have been replaced with a T-shirt, leather jacket, and dark jeans. But those gray eyes and mesmerizing smile are still right there.

Hillary is standing with her mouth hanging open. I assume she’s having the same reaction I did when I first saw him. I then immediately realize she’s wearing a cleavage-revealing cut-off sweater and leggings that are hugging her curves a little too tightly. I now wonder why I let my over
 
sexed, half-naked, cute roommate and her double Ds greet him. I’m immediately self-conscious about how conservative I look in comparison to Hillary.

“Hey, gorgeous. You ready?” he says, flashing a devilish grin. He walks over to me and, with one arm, lifts me right off my feet into a hug without even looking in Hillary’s direction.

“Hi,” I say breathlessly as he puts me down. I’m so caught off guard I almost stumble into Hillary.

I notice she has a look of shock all her own. I don’t think she’s ever had a man look totally past her the way Cal just did. And I don’t know if I should be turned on at his confidence, or insulted that he assumes he could invade my personal space like that.

I’m definitely going to have to explain the boundaries of Lauren Brooks later on, if that’s his first-date hug. Even though whatever cologne he’s wearing has hypnotized my senses; he smells so good it should be illegal.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Hillary says, pulling me by the arm without waiting for a response.

I smile at Cal helplessly, and he winks at me—butterflies invade my stomach at the gesture before Hillary and I escape away to my room.

“She’ll be right back. You can sit down,” she informs him. As we get in the room, she shuts the door and starts talking a mile a minute. “Did you see how he just ignored me? How fucking rude is that?”

I have to keep myself from laughing out loud at how serious she is. “I’m sure he would have spoken to you if you didn’t drag us out of the room in 0.2 seconds.”

“And what was with that hug? Didn’t you guys just meet? Who the hell does he think he is?” she says, resting her hand on her hip.

For the first time ever, I think my roomie/friend is a little jealous. I have 
never 
seen her jealous before. I also think about how ironic it is that she’s saying all this when I know for a fact she’s hooked up with guys on the night she met them.

“But other than that, he’s fucking hot. Like hot as hell,” she relents with a contemplative smirk, returning to the friend I know.

“Isn’t he?” I sigh, relieved it isn’t just me reverting to a fifteen-year-old hormonal girl.

Hillary looks at me, surprised. I’m usually not into a guy just based on looks. I couldn’t date anyone who I’d consider hideous, but I’ve learned that a relationship can’t stand on attraction and the last two “hot guys” I was with barely stood at all.

My first boyfriend, Daniel, had brown eyes, matching hair, and the most adorable dimples. I had known him since we were kids. My aunt always said he had the face of an angel and the mind of a demon. If only I’d known how right she was. When Daniel and I first started dating, we were both virgins and promised we’d be each other’s first. I thought we’d beat the odds until 
after
 I actually slept with him. Two days afterward, 
and
 on my eighteenth birthday, he revealed not only had he
not
been a virgin when we had sex, but he wanted me to have a threesome with the other girl he’d been screwing while waiting for me.

Then there was Michael. Of course that ended with me catching him screwing a girl where we both worked. So in all honesty, I should be running in the other direction from Cal. But something about him makes me nervous and excited at the same time. It’s not the way he looks. He exudes this sexual magnetism that I can’t even describe—that I’ve never felt before and I’m kind of afraid of.

“Wow,” Hillary says, interrupting my thoughts.

“What?” I ask curiously.

“You’re blushing!” Hillary exclaims excitedly.

“No, I’m not,” I deny quickly.

“Lauren Brooks, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were in lust with him!” she says, her excitement growing.

“Shut up, Hillary,” I whisper loudly, hoping Cal doesn’t hear us.

“Yeah, you are. I may not know about love, but I know aaaallllll about lust and it’s all over you.” She giggles, thumping me in the chest with her finger accusingly. “You reek of it! Lust at first sight.” She bursts into laughter.

“Shh!” I say again, pressing my index finger to my lips as hard as I can. She’s never going to shut up about this. “Okay. Maybe I am just a little.” I start to have doubts. “You know what? I’m not going to go!”

I don’t know what I was thinking. I can’t even think straight around this man. Why would I go anywhere with him? I don’t need a repeat of Michael mixed in with Daniel. Who knows what dumb decision I’ll make?

“What? Why? Are you crazy?” she yells at me.

I look at her with a perplexed expression. A moment ago she was just bad-mouthing him, but now that she thinks I want to sleep with him, she’s all for it.

“But you just said—” I exclaim, confused.

“You’re my friend and I love you, but you can be a little naïve when it comes to men. You’ve fucked what, two guys? Both of whom you were in relationships with. And, sweetie, that guy out there does not look like a relationship kind of guy,” she explains, taking a seat on my bed.

“Okay, so, again, why do you think it’s crazy that I don’t go out with him?” I say, confused.

“Because you’re in lust with him!” she exclaims, as if it should be obvious.

I rub my temples, extremely frustrated with this situation.

“Look, go out. Have fun. Fuck his brains out, but be prepared to only hear from him when he wants—”

I raise my hand up to cut her off. I can’t hear any more of this. She’s giving me a headache.

But she continues, “Lauren, it’s not a bad thing to just hook up. Especially after all the boring
let’s make vows to one another
sex you’ve had. Trust me, it will be liberating! And how long has it been since you’ve gotten any? Have you ever even had a walk of shame before?” she asks as if I’m seriously going to answer her.

“Not having this discussion with you right now,” I say, heading to open the door when she stops me.

“Look, every guy isn’t going to be ‘the one.’ Some guys are just meant to be good screws. That is why God put them on the planet! You’re a senior and haven’t even had the freshman experience,” she says with a way-too-serious face. “And this Cal guy is, like, the perfect candidate.”

I don’t even know where to start in on how wrong this conversation is. “How do you know he’s even good in bed?” I ask her sarcastically.

“Did you see how big his hands and feet are?” she says as if stating the obvious.

“Okay, we’re going to go out there and, Hillary, don’t stare at his feet anymore, please!” I say before opening the door.

I walk back into the living room to see Cal sitting on the couch on his phone.

“We’ll have to take care of this later,” he says sternly into it and hangs up.

“Girlfriend?” I say jokingly.

He looks at me, a smile playing on his face. “Jealous?”

“You have a strange sense of humor,” I tell him.

He winks at me before opening the door and allowing me to walk out ahead of him.

“You two have fun,” Hillary sings as we leave.

“Have a good one,” Cal says, giving Hillary a little smile that I’m sure just made her day.

“So where are we headed today?” I ask him as we walk outside.

“You’ll see when we get there,” he replies, leading me to a beautiful black motorcycle.

I stop to admire the sexy metal on wheels. It almost distracts me from the fact he hasn’t told me where we’re going. “This is yours?” I don’t know that much about bikes, but I do know that anything that reads Lamborghini on it doesn’t come cheap.