Breaking the Wrong (Sloan Brothers Series Book 2)
Page 3
“Psst ... dude.” I ignore him. “Dude,” he persists. ”
“What?”
Chris is leaning back and looking over in Haley’s direction. “Who’s that girl your stalker is talking to?”
I know exactly who he’s talking about. “Haley is not my stalker.”
“Haley is a complete stalker,” he argues. “Freaks me the hell out. But seriously, who’s that girl? She’s fucking—”
I tune him out. From where I’m sitting, I can see more of the girl. She’s something to look at. Big eyes and expressive lips that are slightly parted in thought. I look at Chris and I know he’s thinking the same perverted thoughts. She looks over at us, like she knows what we’re thinking. Her sharp brown eyes land on me for a second, and I think she has sized me up with just one look.
She appears innocent enough, but there’s something there. This girl has a sting—she’ll leave a mark on most guys.
That makes me open my book back up and keep reading.
When Chris taps me on the shoulder a few seconds later, I don’t budge. He talks to my back. “Am I right?”
I shrug. “I guess.”
“You guess?” He laughs. “Did you see the size of her ti-”
Jerking around, I glare at him. “I’m not going to waste this whole semester talking tit sizes with you.”
Chris laughs and leans back in his chair. “I’ll leave you alone. Just check her out and you’ll see what I’m talking about.”
I give her a quick glance and take in her shirt. It’s some white shirt that’s off the shoulder and stretched across her tits. I feel like a fucking perve.
When I look over at Chris I give him a blunt nod. “You’re right.”
“Hell yeah, I’m right.” His chair lands on all fours and he smiles across the aisle. “Haley! Who are you talking to?”
Right now, I bet Haley is glaring at Chris. I keep my face down and stare at the pages of my book.
“I’m talking to no one,” she snaps. “Mind your own business.”
Telling Chris to mind his own business is like begging for more. There’s no filter on him. “Introduce me to Rapunzel,” he persists.
I feed my curiosity and look over at the new girl. She watches Haley and Chris snap at each other with serious concentration. She’s intense.
There’s no way in hell I’m stepping near her.
When I look at Chris, he’s sizing up the girl like a piece of meat he wants to take a big bite out of. I want to punch him on the shoulder and tell him to back away slowly from this one. But I kind of want to see how this plays out.
“Rapunzel, what’s your name?” Chris asks.
She’s looking at me the whole time. I’m bracing myself for her name, impatient to hear if it’s something typical—a name recycled over and over.
Her chin goes up a notch, and she looks at me with pride. “Emilia.”
There is confidence in her voice. But there’s enough softness in her words that’ll drive most guys wild. I look over at Chris. He’s lapping her words up and heeling like a good boy.
“And does Emilia have a last name?” he asks.
I wait for her to answer, but the professor walks in and steals her attention. “Hello everyone! I’m Professor Woodell and I’ll be teaching—“
Chris whistles softly behind me. His attention has gone from Emilia to the professor.
“I wonder if she’s like the teacher from Varsity Blues,” he whispers over my shoulder, “and strips on weekends just to get by.”
“Maybe,” I say sarcastically. “Since professors make next to nothing.”
For a few minutes, I listen to Woodell talk about what she expects this semester and then I start to tune her out. I’m not worried about this class. The intention for taking this class was to have one course that wouldn’t leave my brain fried, but I’m already feeling restless. Maybe it’s because the professor talks with such happiness that I have no doubt she believes that unicorns slide down fucking rainbows while they frolic in the clouds.
My fingers drum impatiently against my leg and soon the class is over.
I stand just in time to see a small body go up the stairs and out the door. A small body with waist-length hair the color of caramel.
Chris waits in the aisle and stares at the doorway with narrowed eyes. “I’m going to talk to that girl.”
“Who?” Haley asks. “Emilia?”
Chris narrows his eyes at Haley. It’s only a matter of seconds before he says something mean to her. “Yeah, what is she doing talking to you?”
Haley walks past us and rams into Chris’s side. When I don’t follow, she turns around and shoots me a glare before walking out the door.
“I’m telling you,” Chris persists. “Somewhere, in her apartment, there’s a blow-up doll with your face on it. She probably sleeps with it every night.”
“That’s freaky,” I mutter.
“It’s the truth,” Chris declares. “But enough about that stalker. I want to find that girl.”
He can go find that girl, and while he finds her I’ll be in the other direction—far, far away.
When we walk outside, his eyes widen. He cups a hand around his mouth. “Hey, Emilia!”
Her long legs are eating up the sidewalk. The minute Chris calls out to her, she stops in her tracks and turns around to face us.
Chris jogs to her side and I walk in the other direction. Randomly, I glance at Emilia and she’s looking right at me. Or maybe through me, I’m not sure. She has a sharp stare that puts me on guard. It’s like she knows every secret I’m hiding.
It’s a fucking shame that she’s so intense because she’s gorgeous. But there’s something completely fucking terrifying about her.
Immediately, I pick up the pace. I’m halfway across campus when my phone starts to vibrate. I refuse to answer texts. They’re a waste of time. The amount of time it takes to write a message I can call the person and tell them what I want in seconds flat.
The screen flashes my dad’s number. “Hey,” I answer.
“Has Glenn called you yet?” Owen asks immediately. He doesn’t bother with ‘Hi’ and ‘what are you doing’ in conversations. On the phone, he’s blunt and to the point. I’m the same way.
“No, why?” I ask.
“He needs you on the farm after your classes.” I hear wind pick up and hit against his phone. He speaks up. “Needs help fixing a fence.”
When Thayer moved out, I had to get a job to keep up on the rent. Part of the agreement when I moved in with Thayer was that our dad would pay the rent as long as we got along and lived together. When Thayer left, so did the deal.
My sweaty, blister-inducing job is all thanks to my dad. It wouldn’t surprise me if every farmer across the Midwest knows my dad, Owen Sloan. He lives on a farm in Missouri and owns a company that sells agriculture equipment.
Immediately he found me a job on Glenn’s horse farm. Since the summer, my job has consisted of three things: fixing fences, bailing hay, and my favorite, cleaning out horse stalls.
The hours I’ve spent working have left me with blisters, a gross farmer’s tan, and muscles that ache every time I move.
Today was one of my few days off. I roll my neck back and forth with agitation. Horse shit is the last thing I want to see tonight. The only reason I agree is because I need the money.
“What time?” I grit out.
“Three,” my dad says bluntly.
“I’ll be over there when I’m done.”
“Thanks, son.” He hangs up and is off the phone in seconds.
Over the summer, I started to talk more with my dad. We’ve never had a good relationship and I didn’t expect things to change overnight. But now I can call him without feeling like a slab of concrete is on my chest, suffocating me every time I talk to him.
It’s not much, but growing up with Laurena made my expectations low. Her love was selective. Throughout my childhood I was loved, but I was ignored more. It was all about what I
could do to make my mother feel better about herself.
I’d rather go with nothing than spend a moment with her.
I’m running down the stairs like hell is on my heels. Macsen Sloan isn’t supposed to be in any of my classes. I expected Thayer or Severine. Psych class didn’t seem like a course that Macsen would ever take.
Everyone around me is moving at their own pace. I’m just trying to find a tree or bench to sit down and text my brother or sister—anyone that gives me peace.
I gasp for air as I veer around the students. Memories run through my head. I want to lie down and relive every single one, but that will only bring pain. I focus on Wyoming.
Wyoming. Wyoming. Wyoming.
When everything came crashing down on our family, Aniston, Eden and I took a trip. The three of us piled into Aniston’s Range Rover and just drove. There was no destination in mind. We were only concerned with getting the hell out of New York. We ended up in Wyoming and stayed at the shittiest hotel with the T missing on the sign. That didn’t matter to us because, for a few days, we weren’t ourselves. We were no longer the Wentworth kids. Scandal couldn’t find us.
After a few days, we packed up and drove back home. Things were still bad, really bad, but they weren’t so bleak after our trip. It didn’t feel like a black abyss was going to swallow us whole.
The ‘Wyoming feeling’ became a phrase that any of us would use when we were overcome with sadness.
I’m trying so hard to find that ‘Wyoming feeling’ right now, but it’s impossible with all the people around me. I find a large oak tree that would shade me from the sun and halfway there, someone calls out my name.
Turning around, I see the guy from class jogging up to me. He’s built like a football player with light brown hair and a goofy smile. I give him a distracted wave and look behind him. Macsen turns in my direction and looks at me, for just a second. I wait to see if he’s going to walk over here. Abruptly, he takes a sharp turn and walks away.
Talking to him now would be useless. My entire body is still shaking from seeing Macsen in class. Only a few months have passed since I saw him at the coffee shop and he looks completely different to me.
I absorb every feature. His dark hair is longer, more unruly than I remember. His skin is tan and makes me wonder how he wasted his summer days.
It’s his build that throws me off more than anything. He was lean before, with enough muscles that he didn’t appear gaunt, but today his t-shirt is tight around his arms and strains against his chest. It’s a subtle change, but anyone familiar with him would notice the same thing.
Honestly, I don’t know how to feel about the end result of Macsen Sloan.
“Hey,” Chris snaps his finger in front of my face. I blink and shake my head slightly, he doesn’t even notice. “You sure were in a hurry to get out of class.”
“Yes, well,” I lift up my phone and shake it, “I was hoping to call my sister.”
Chris gives me his most charming grin. I don’t know what to make of him. I can tell he plays sports from his body and the vibe he gives off. He seems harmless, even though he’s been staring at my chest the entire time I’ve been in front of him.
“Where are you from?” he asks charmingly.
My skills in the male department aren’t strong, but I can see quickly where this is going. I give him a distracted nod, following Macsen with my eyes. “Ahh ... yeah,” I pull myself on my tiptoes and look over Chris’s shoulder, “...transferred from NYU.”
Chris goes to open his mouth and I stab a finger in the air, my target was Macsen. “What’s with your friend?”
Frowning, Chris turns around and notices who I’m pointing at. “Who, Macsen?”
My patience is close to gone. I nod and wait for him to speak.
Chris turns back and stares at me before he quickly snaps his neck toward Macsen again. His blue eyes instantly widen. “Ohhh...” He smiles slowly. “You know my roommate?”
Macsen is out of sight. I slowly lower my feet to the ground. “He’s your roommate?”
“Yep.” Crossing his arms, Chris looks at me thoughtfully. “I’ve lived with him for a while. Why? Are you interested in him?” he teases.
Before I get a chance to answer him. Haley walks up and glares at him. “Can you leave any female alone, just for a second?”
His body turns rigid and his eyes narrow. “If the female’s name is Haley, absolutely.”
Haley flips him off. He returns the favor as he’s walking away. Chris is a few steps away when he turns back to smile at me. “Rapunzel, if you want me to talk to him, let me know!”
I frown over his uncreative nickname and say nothing. He thinks I’m interested in Macsen. I let him think it because I’m still willing my heart to slow down.
“What was that about?”
I look at the dark-haired girl that has seemingly taken our one conversation in class as grounds for friendship. She sat in front of me and was friendly enough, until Chris interrupted her.
Haley seems okay. Her dark hair is pulled back in a low ponytail. The color is all wrong. Dark hair washes her out and makes it nearly impossible to really notice her gray eyes.
With her tank top and shorts, she looks like the average college student. The whole time we talk, her eyes flit around like someone is about to pounce on us. I’m bitter and angry, but Haley is just flat-out scared.
“It’s nothing,” I say in a reassuring tone and search for my sunglasses. The sun is so bright it feels like it’s beaming onto my face like a spotlight.
Haley crosses her skinny arms and stares at Chris’s retreating back. “Stay away from Chris. He’s trouble.”
I sigh and slide my Ray Bans on. “I didn’t plan on becoming friends with him.”
Haley keeps talking. “He rooms with Macsen Sloan and that’s about the only reason I put up with him.” She says the name Macsen like he’s her personal savior.
“That’s what he was just telling me.”
“Do you know Macsen?” Haley asks with narrowed eyes.
I pretend to mull over his name. “No,” I lie, “but the name sounds familiar.”
She sniffs and looks around at everyone passing by. “I’m not surprised,” she says idly. “He had a really bad breakup last year.”
“I heard.” Haley widens her eyes. I quickly backtrack and elaborate. “A few girls in my dorm told me.”
“He dated some girl.” I love how she says some girl. It’s filled with such venom. It wouldn’t surprise me if a snake slid out of her mouth and choked Severine. “She was horrible to him and honestly, I wouldn’t be shocked if she was sleeping with Thayer before she and Macsen split up.”
That’s a pretty bold statement. I raise my eyebrows. “You think she cheated on him?”
“It wouldn’t shock me. I’ve known Macsen since we were kids, and he would never cheat on anyone.”
Everything clicks together after that. I suddenly have a vision of Haley’s future and it’s filled with nothing but cats.
I had watched Macsen in class and other than giving Haley a friendly wave before he sat down, that was it. Haley is clearly basking in her delusion and doesn’t notice her feelings aren’t returned.
Minus the craziness, I like this Haley girl. She is guarded and a little snippy. But I think, underneath all that armor is a kind heart.
Way deep down. Kind of like me.
My hand goes to my chest and I realize that talking to this spunky girl has calmed me down.
I can breathe. I can relax. No memories are attacking my brain.
Adjusting the strap of my bag, I wrap an arm around Haley’s shoulder. She looks shocked by the gesture.
“It’s too hot outside. Let’s get something to drink,” I tell her with a smile.
She walks with me and talks non-stop. I nod the whole time.
“And you just click on this link.” Tosha taps a fingernail against the screen of my laptop and perches herself on the edge of my bed. She holds a bag of jell
y beans in her hand and sifts through them, only picking out the red and orange. “Are you feeling that lost in math?”
The Peer Tutoring Program downloads. When I glance over at Tosha, I give her a somber nod. “Unfortunately, yes. I knew I’d probably need help with math, but I didn’t think I would need it this soon.”
Math has always eaten me alive.
Every. Single. Time.
Only three days have passed and I know I have to sign up for help before I find myself failing. I type out all my info with hurried fingers. When I finish, I sit back in the computer chair and turn around slowly.
Tosha’s lost in her own world, humming along to a commercial and tapping her feet against the foot of my bed.
“I’m done,” I announce. “Wouldn’t it be great if I could apply my reading skills toward math? I would have a passing grade across the board.”
A look of concern crosses her face. “It’s really that bad?”
Tosha knows about my struggles with math. She’s the friend that defended me from any cruel names tossed my way. It really doesn’t matter what age you are. School is a killing field. There will always be that one person who will zone in on someone’s weakness and go straight for the kill.
Aniston was even more crazed than Tosha. He went to an all boys’ school, but if he’d heard the names I was called, he would have found a way to end the taunts. After tragedy slammed into our family, he became twice as protective. I think it was his way of moving on. Being protective of Eden and me was his way of making sure the past didn’t repeat itself.
Looking over at Tosha, I nod. “Yep. I’m doing good in every other course but this one.”
“What’s your easiest class?” she asks.
“Psych,” I gather all my hair and create a messy bun. “But there’s this girl in there, Haley. I talk to her a lot.”
Tosha sits up and frowns at me. “Haley who?”
I scrunch my lips and try to think of her last name. “Haley Roth?” At least, I think that’s what our professor said.
My answer must have been right and wrong at the same time. Tosha veers back and stares at me with her eyes in tiny slits. “I know Haley.”