Someone Like You (Someone To Love Series) (19 page)

“Morning, sunshine.” I give a sideways grin because I think we both know it’s not as great as it could have been.

Ally dips her nose back in her book without saying a word.

“Morning!” A high-pitched voice bleats from over by the stove. I glance up to find an overtly perky She-Elton wearing sweats and a severely undersized T-shirt.

“Molly?” I glance back at Ally for explanation, but she just continues to scowl into her novel. “Morning.” I omit the word “good” because it doesn’t feel genuine at the moment.

Kendall speeds over with a look of hellfire embedded in her eyes.

“You asshole!” she hisses in my ear.

“What the fuck?” I whisper, annoyed with my underdressed sister who took a page out of Molly’s playbook and opted for the barely there T and not much else. I glance over at Ally and she’s still in the same jeans and tank top from last night. Odd.

“You’re lucky Cruise isn’t here.” Kendall’s voice strains as if I’m in deep shit with the ringmaster who lays down the law in her bedroom. “When he finds out about this, he’s going to kick your ass all the way back to Oregon. If you’re smart you’ll leave before he gets home.”

“What?” I squint at her. She’s all riled up about God knows what. “Did Cal tell you what I plan on doing?”

“You strategized this with
Cal
?” She gags as she tries to get her next sentence out. “It would figure.” She stalks off and lands next to Ally at the table as if they’ve sided against me.

What the hell?

Molly heads over with a plate of eggs and bacon.

“There’s enough for all of us,” she sings. “Even you,
Ally
. I would never leave you out.” Her lips pinch as if withholding a smile.

Ally shoots up like a bullet and heads to the sink so I follow.

“What’s she doing here?” I don’t remember Molly joining us at this early hour before and what’s with the gloating?

“She spent the night.” Ally cuts my balls off with her words. Her eyes are red as tomatoes and her face is blotchy, like she’s been crying for hours.

“Hey, what’s going on?” I go to wrap my arm around her and she jumps back, livid that I even tried. “Wait…” Everything in me freezes. “Where did Molly spend the night?” I whisper it so low I’m not sure she heard. “On the couch?” Please, God, let it be the couch.

“Nope.” Ally presses out a depleted smile. “That’s where
I
spent the night.”

“Shit!” My hands gravitate to my temples as I spin into the sink.

“Everything okay?” Molly bounces her leg off her knee like a schoolgirl.

“Everything’s great.” Ally snarls it out like a war is about to erupt. “So”—Ally whispers without making eye contact with me—“did you enjoy yourself?”

“No, I did not
enjoy
myself.” Fuck.

Ally huffs at my statement as if I’ve somehow managed to insult her in the process.

“We didn’t do anything,” I plead. A visual of Molly pulling on my dick like she was trying to pluck a carrot out of the ground comes to mind. Shit. “I told you—I mean
her
—to fill me in on all those feelings or there wouldn’t be any action, and she opted for no action. And, for the record, I thought it was
you
.”

“You
thought
it was me?” Ally bites down on her bottom lip and her features soften.

“
Yes
.” I shoot her a wild-eyed look. “What the hell were you not doing in that bedroom last night?”

“Oh, so this is my fault?” She jabs a finger into her chest.

“No. That’s not what I’m saying.” Shit. “I’m not saying this is anybody’s fault.” Least of all mine.

“Oh, it’s somebody’s fault.” She glares over at the sexual serpent in our midst. “I knocked but you said you were ‘busy’—that you didn’t
want
any.”

“What the hell did you knock for?”

“Because it was
locked!
” Her lips tremble, and for a minute tears seem imminent. “Besides, I heard giggling and it sounded like a good time was being had by all. I thought maybe I missed some big cue and…”

She shakes her head, unable to finish her thought.

“Shit,” I mutter. Kendall shoots spears of hatred at me from the table. Molly turns and openly licks her lips in my direction as if we were the real deal. Kendall busies her in conversation about school—about
high school,
no less. I bet good old Cruise will have the local authorities alerted once he finds out I almost banged his sister. “How do we get rid of her?” I fold my arms and lean into the sink while Molly scarfs down half the food by herself as if she’s worked up an appetite.

Crap.

“Are you sure you didn’t do anything?” Ally’s lids hood over, and she looks hurt beyond repair.

“No. Thank God.” I almost caved. I almost disregarded any constraints I may have placed on the two of us last night and bent her over the mattress. I bet that’s what she wanted. Something tells me what Molly wants Molly gets, and last night I was at the top of her hit list. “Look, we need to talk.” I say it low, so Molly doesn’t jump on the offer. I’m so pissed. I have no intention of giving Molly another second of my time.

“I know you’re talking about me.” Molly averts her eyes as if this were high school. “Look”—she seethes in Ally’s direction—“you’re going to have to get used to seeing us together. This isn’t something that’s just going to go away. Morgan has feelings for me, and I have feelings for him. It’s going to be Morgan and Molly in the end. Our names even sound good together.” She says that last bit with an unexpected burst of enthusiasm.

Her phone vibrates and she snatches it up from the table.

“It’s my mom. I gotta go.” She hops over and dots my cheek with a kiss. “We can’t tell her or she’ll shit a brick. I’ll catch you later, ’kay?” She skips all the way to the door.

Ally leans into me. “Sounds like you’ve got more than one dirty little secret.”

I glance down at her. Her eyes are still burning from the pain I’ve inadvertently caused.

I have a feeling Molly’s mom and brother are the least of my worries.

8

THE DO-OVER

Ally

M
organ is ins
istent on making everything up to me.

After the fiasco with Molly-the-Manhandling-Menace he took a scalding shower, which exuded steam well into the hallway for a half hour straight. Who knows what communicable diseases Molly has managed to collect now that her hormones have run amuck. Everybody knows high school is a petri dish of sexual plagues that are constantly mutating into treatment-resistant strains. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if she was playing host to all sorts of hybrid STDs. It’s becoming more than clear that she and Cruise are victim to some mutated genetic disorder that’s marked them for a life of carnal catastrophes. I can hardly wait to see the power tools she’ll amass before she’s thirty.

Morgan gets dressed and comes back out to the living room, his eyes still filled with remorse. He has that dripping with hotness, fresh from the shower appeal, and instinctually my panties demand to fall off. Lucky for me I know better. What happened last night may have been an accident, but it still weighs on me like a lead coat.

He cups my face in his hands before bowing into a tender kiss.

“Ally, in no way am I remotely interested in Molly. I swear to you, you’re all I think about.” He traces my lips with his, warm and inviting. “You’re all I need.”

My insides quiver. A searing heat rips through the most intimate part of me, and I desperately want to drag him back into the bedroom, but I’ve yet to delouse the sheets.

Tears blue my vision, and I try to blink them away. An entire dam of words tries to break through my vocal cords at once.

“It’s okay.” He presses a finger tenderly over my lips and I kiss it. “You wanna take a ride?” he asks sweetly.

I press my lips together in hesitation because I know what’s about to bubble out. “I’d go just about anywhere with you.” It’s true, and I can’t seem to fight it.

We hop in his truck and take in the haze-filled day with the heat sealing over us like a blanket fresh from the dryer.

“If you don’t mind”—Morgan ticks his head toward several bloated grocery bags in the backseat—“we’re going to run a few errands real quick.”

“What are the bags for? To hold the loot?” I wish. All those credit-card late fees are really adding up. Derek and his “liquor store runs” bolt through my mind and suddenly a first-degree robbery doesn’t sound that unappealing.

“More like
create
the loot.” He reaches back and hands me a bright-orange flyer that has all the appeal of a HAZMAT scene marker.

R
OCK
B
OTTOM
O
VER
-21 C
LUB

G
RAND OPENING
TONIGHT
!

$20
COVER

H
ALF OFF ALL DRINKS,
UNLIMITED

“What the hell is this?” I study the map printed on the back until I realize I’m staring at the fitness front Cal uses to visually defile unsuspecting women. “The gym?” I over enunciate as I often do when I smell a poorly hatched scheme on the horizon. “You’re never going to get people to pay this kind of cover.”

“Of course we will.” His dimples ignite as he gloats about said poorly hatched scheme.

“
We
?” I’m not sure whether I should be flattered or afraid. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes. We’ll run it together, side by side, from setup to cleanup. It’ll be a joint venture.” He glances over, clearly shocked by my resistance. “There are three universities and four junior colleges we can hit this afternoon.”

“What?” I stare at him in disbelief. “I thought we were headed to some romantic getaway at the beach and all of a sudden we’re opening a nightclub?” I squawk, staring down at my cutoffs and flip-flops with a newfound level of remorse. I wore the red string bikini that acts more as a nipple shield just to impress the hell out of his penis, although he sort of had me at “a joint venture.”

“It’ll be fun. I’ll buy you lunch.” He nods over at Johnny Burger’s, and I’m quick to shoot him down. “Or, I can speed like hell, and we can get it over with quickly as possible.”

The truck slides out from under us, and I smack him in the shoulder before he slows back down. Dell was right, Morgan Jordan is trouble. My cheeks flush just thinking about all the ways he’s wrong for me and yet, a part of him has already settled in that sweet spot in my heart.

A stunted silence fills the space between us.

“I’m seeing Ruby in a few days,” I whisper.

“That’s great.” Morgan looks over and gives a tender smile. “What’s on the agenda? Mani, pedi—mall?”

“No, but that’s an awesome lineup. You’d make a great dad.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“I was thinking more movie and ice cream.”

“Even better. I like a woman who’s smarter than me.”

Another beat of silence strokes by.

“Come on.” He ticks his head to the side. “I set you up for a good one. Hit me with your best shot. I say,
I like a woman who’s smarter than me
and you say—
that’s not hard to find.
” He shakes his head. “I’m sure you could do better.”

“No, I can’t do better because I don’t think it’s true. You’re one of the kindest, most intelligent, crafty”—I hold up the flyer as evidence—“guys I know. And I think you’re damn good-looking to boot—so there. Theory refuted. Intelligence and hotness verified.”

He looks over at me and studies me with serious intent.

“If you say so. You’re the boss.” His dimples dart in and out as if they agree. “So is that what you were going to tell me last night before we got interrupted?”

“Um…” I bite down on my lip. I’m pretty sure telling someone you love him for the first time shouldn’t be done on the interstate when he’s driving a robust twenty miles over the speed limit. “I’ll hold off until all possibilities of vehicular homicide have been extinguished.” Heat rises to my cheeks. It was sort of a lame thing to say in lieu of “I love you.” “Besides, I don’t want to think about what happened last night. What the hell kind of lunatic is Molly anyway?”

“She’s determined, that’s for sure.”

“Spoiled little rich girl.” I lean back into my seat.

“I don’t know about that. Cruise doesn’t exactly look like he’s rolling in it.”

“Okay, so she’s just a spoiled little girl minus the rich. I don’t really care what she is, but if she thinks she’s going to pull another stunt like that she’s got another think coming. I think it’s time I have a little conversation with her.” I’d better sharpen my claws first.

“Be careful.” He twists his lips to the side. “I’m guessing Molly has a nasty sting that neither of us wants anything to do with.”

I wish I could say it was Molly who had better be careful, but in all honesty, it’s not like I’m going to pull her into some knock ’em down, drag it out catfight. I’ve always looked at her like some kid, not some boyfriend-stealing tramp. I cut a sideways glance at Morgan. I guess in a roundabout way he is my boyfriend. A wave of heat pulses over me at the idea. I haven’t had a boyfriend in forever. Well, not unless you count Rory, and that was a federal catastrophe that an entire legal team could attest to. I shake the thought out of my mind. “Anyway, as far as Molly goes, I’ll simply shoo her away and hope she finds another drop-dead gorgeous boy to sneak into bed with.” I reach over and spin a soft circle over his knee. Morgan catches my hand and buries a kiss in my palm. “So you were really going to withhold that rock-hard body until I told you how I feel?” It comes from me weak, as if I regretted the words as they flew from my lips.

“I was and thankfully did.” His eyes widen at what might have been if he didn’t. “And, by the way, from now on we’ll be conducting our dirty little secret with the lights on just to be safe.”

“Duly noted.” My insides burn at the thought of Morgan seeing me splayed out like that. I try to imagine Morgan watching me, expecting things that my body seems to have the inability to produce. A breath escapes me as the heated visual bounces through my mind.

Once we arrive in front of Garrison, Morgan takes a turn onto the side streets.

“You’ll have to hit Greek row.” I guide him until we land on the street with oversized boxy houses the size of apartment buildings. “So how do I do this?” I reach back and pick up a stack. “Do you want me to run up and ask if they want to come?”

“Nah. Here.” He doubles the stack in my hands and pulls slowly in front of Alpha Sigma. We’re just going to crop-dust the shit out of the neighborhood.”

The flyers flutter from my hand like leaves in the fall. Morgan honks his way up and down the street until a crowd has amassed and people are scooping up the orange papers like they contain some nuclear doomsday warning.

I laugh as we hightail it out of there and head back onto the highway.

“Hey, you know what?” I say, startled by my own revelation. “If we can get a bunch of people to show up, we can make some serious money.”

“That’s what I’m talking about, baby.” He holds out his hand, and I slap him some skin.

Money. The thought of having
any
sweeps over me like my own private summer.

“We could be sitting on a gold mine. I could pay off my credit cards, and even buy a few books next semester.” A breath gets caught in my throat. “You think we can move out on our own?” Even if it were temporary, it’d be amazing to be alone with Morgan.

“Gee, I don’t know if Mom and Dad will let us.” He jostles my knee and a line of fire rips up my thigh from his simple touch. “That’s the plan, girl.” He touches his finger to my cheek. “That is the plan.”

I take him in. Mr. Gorgeous, Mr. All-Around Perfect—and I do believe Morgan Jordan is my Mr. Right.

“Thank you,” I say a little quieter than necessary.

And, later tonight, I plan on thanking him in an entire catalog of unforgettable ways.

We spend all afternoon littering the neighborhoods of anyone we think might be a potential customer to our new joint venture that involves dancing and debauchery. And unfortunately, much of the evening is spent maxing out Morgan’s credit cards while driving down the inventory of every liquor store in a ten-mile radius.

By the time the club opens at 10
P.M.
, we’ve gone home and changed. I’m in my requisite or, more to the point, one and only little black dress, and Morgan is in his usual uniform of jeans and a T-shirt. But, I must say, Morgan Jordan glows hotter than a firebrand with his hair slicked back, the shadow of stubble on his face, and those electric-blue eyes that seem to be backlit. I can feel a serious meltdown taking place in my panties, and I’m pretty sure he’d solve my problems in the pleasure domain, right here if I wanted.

He sears me with a heated kiss and my insides quiver. Morgan holds the scent of soap and mouthwash, his high-octane cologne that has the ability to intoxicate me all on its own.

“You ready to do this?” he shouts above the music streaming from the speakers he’s deposited all over the place—another hit to his seemingly bottomless credit card.

Cal is out front collecting the cover charge, and already there’s a steady stream of bodies filtering in.

“I think we’re already doing it.” I bite down on a smile as I run my fingers over his bristled cheek, the hard curve of his neck. I look around at the basement with its strange low lighting, the bar tucked in the corner, and not much else other than a span of space that opens up to a few rooms off the back. “Do you know how to tend bar? Because if you’re counting on me to do it, the only things we’ll be serving are wine coolers and beer.”