Shut Up and Kiss Me

by Madeline Sheehan

  Shut Up

  and

  Kiss Me

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  Madeline Sheehan

  &

  Claire Riley

  Shut Up and Kiss Me

  Madeline Sheehan and Claire C. Riley

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright © 2015 Madeline Sheehan and Claire C. Riley

  All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN: 9781311878625

  Cover Design by QDesigns

  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Qdesign-Amy-Queau/226584350872964?fref=ts

  Editing By Amy Jackson Editing

  https://www.facebook.com/amyjacksonediting?fref=ts

  Formatting by Midnight Engel Press, LLC

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the authors’ imaginations or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of the authors.

  Synopsis

  She ran from her past.

  After relocating from a small town in Tennessee, Mila has been living in New York City for a year and a half, more than happy to be lost in the crowd. Living vicariously through her best friend and roommate, Nikki, Mila spends her days waitressing and her evenings at home. Then, one night, after getting exclusive tickets to a nightclub downtown, Nikki is able to convince Mila to let loose for once.

  He’s running from his future.

  Having lived a privileged life, William is used to getting what he wants and who he wants. Now, though, in his thirties, he’s bored, and seeking more from his life than mindless sex, and even worse—mindless women. Spotting Mila from across the club, he senses right away that she’s different from what he’s used to, an observation that proves true.

  One night together will change everything for both of them. Pasts and futures will collide, secrets will be revealed, and the results will transform both their lives forever.

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  About The Authors

  Sneak Peek from Beneath Blood and Bone (Thicker Than Blood #2)

  Dedication

  This book, dear reader, is for you.

  Prologue

  Turning on my blinker, I pulled my truck off the interstate and into the rest area parking lot. It was the middle of the night, the moon hanging fat and heavy in the sky, and the lot was nearly empty, only a few vehicles scattered about.

  Shutting off the engine, I bent my head down over the steering wheel and tried to remember how to breathe. But how can you breathe when your entire life, everything you’ve ever known, has fallen to pieces in an instant?

  My lungs felt tight, the skin on my hands too dry, and my eyes didn’t seem to be working properly. Everything about me felt wrong. Screw that—everything everywhere felt wrong. Everything was wrong.

  Betrayal, pain, and oh God, the fear that I’d be found, and the guilt—they were barreling through me a mile a minute, rendering me nearly useless, unable to do little more than cry and drive…and try to remember how to breathe.

  But how do you breathe when you have nothing left?

  I had nothing, nowhere and no one to go to. No one could help me. No one could save me from this.

  The sound of a large engine rumbling past brought my head up quickly. A bus was pulling into the rest stop and parking by the facilities. I watched, my heart racing in my chest, as twelve or so people got off and headed inside the building.

  “I have to ditch the truck,” I whispered, knowing that I did in fact have to ditch the truck. The license plates, or even just the make and model, could be used to find me.

  Grabbing my purse and suitcase, I left the truck and began walking briskly across the lot. Being out in the wide open like that caused every hair on my body to prickle with fear. I was vulnerable, without a weapon, without any physical way to protect myself. Acutely feeling that vulnerability, my breath now coming in short, staccato beats, I quickened my pace. Stopping short at the bus door, I knocked lightly, drawing the attention of the driver, a bald man currently eating in his seat.

  He peered curiously at me as the door squealed open. “Can I help ya?”

  “Where are you headed?” I asked.

  “We’re making two stops, ma’am,” he said. “First one’s in Charleston, last one’s in New York City.”

  “Can I buy a ticket?” I asked breathlessly.

  The driver jerked his chin toward the building behind me. “In there,” he said.

  It took one minute to reach the inside of the building, another three minutes waiting behind a man wanting to change his destination, five more minutes to pay for and obtain the ticket and three more unbelievably slow minutes until I was handing the driver my ticket and making my way toward the back of the bus.

  Then it was another ten full minutes before the bus started moving. And not until we were well away from the rest area, where I’d left the last of my past behind me, did I finally remember how to breathe.

  “New York City,” I whispered, watching the night scenery fly by in a blur of black emptiness.

  Empty. Just like me.

  Chapter One

  Nerves trembled in the pit of my stomach as the cab grew closer to the nightclub. It would be the first time I had been out since moving to New York, and I couldn’t exactly say that I was looking forward to it.

  “Cheer up, sourpuss, this is supposed to be fun!” As Nikki started laughing, I offered my friend a weak smile and she groaned loudly at my sad attempt.

  “Trust me, Mila, this is just what you need.”

  “No,” I mumbled, “what I need is my pajamas.”

  I had never been big on drinking. I’d never done much in the way of partying. I had never really had the chance, if I was being totally honest. My thoughts flickered backwards, to my life before, and worry, thick and stifling, began creeping upon me. Transfixed by my painful memories, I stayed silent, and simply watched the city speed by me in a blur of noise and color.

  “Stop that. Stop it right now,” Nikki scolded soothingly, wrapping a slender arm around my shoulder.

  Leaning back against her, I rested my head on her shoulder and squeezed my eyes shut. She was the only one who knew my secrets, the only one who I’d trusted with that surreptitious part of me. She knew the sadness that lived inside of me, the fear that woke me in the middle of the night, panting and breathless. I trusted Nikki with everything, because I’d had to trust someone. Thankfully, the someone I’d chosen had been her.<
br />
  “You don’t have to worry about a thing. You just have to have fun. I’m here with you and everything is going to be fine.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ll have fun, I promise.” I sat up straighter, forcing a smile. “See.” I pointed to the exaggerated smile on my face.

  Nikki rolled her eyes even as devilish grin tilted her painted pink lips. “Good, because we’re here.”

  Through the window, I glanced up at the tall building, the brightly lit sign—both subtle and inviting—beckoning partygoers. But this wasn’t just any old club; this club was exclusive, and according to Nikki, the fact that she’d managed to get our names on the list meant we’d been blessed by God himself.

  Paying the cabbie, we climbed out and were greeted with the cool New York air flowing over our bare legs, causing a shiver to slither through me. Arm in arm we hurried toward the long line outside Club INFINITY, both groaning as soon as we realized that the line was longer than we’d expected, wrapped around the entirety of the building. Finding our place at the back of it, nearly a block away from the entrance, we huddled together for warmth.

  It was cool for mid-September, the summer quickly disappearing into autumn. But I didn’t mind; I loved all the seasons, and especially this one. The colors of the leaves darkening and changing, the dampness in the air. It all reminded me of home. And God, I missed home.

  I was from a small town down south—barely ten thousand souls, and every one of them almost always familiar to everyone else. I’d known every shortcut, every store, and every street by name. Yet here in the Big Apple, even after a year and a half, I still knew very little. The city seemed to be forever changing, always appearing different. Streets I’d walked a couple dozen times still were unfamiliar. However, it was that very reason I’d chosen New York City: to blend in, to be lost. But still, I was far from used to the noise, the lights, and the constant hum of voices, the all-hours activity that seemed to come from every nook and cranny. Rarely was it that I left the apartment for something other than what was necessary. And “necessary” only consisted of essential shopping, and work at a small family restaurant.

  The line edged along slowly, my small kitten heels clicking loudly against the sidewalk as Nikki and I tottered forward. The couple in front of us were already drunk, and the tall blonde giggled endlessly as she draped herself across her companion in such a blatantly sexual way that it made me both blush and smile.

  “Nearly there,” Nikki said, standing up on her tiptoes, attempting to see the front of the line. Dropping back down, she turned to grin and waggle her brows at me. “The doorman is cute.”

  “We’re not even inside yet,” I said, laughing. Standing on my tiptoes to see what he looked like, I groaned loudly, my eyes widening. He was a beast of a man, his shaved head covered in tattoos, with matching ink on both his neck and monstrously intimidating arms. He looked…absolutely terrifying.

  “No, Nikki, just no.”

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Why not?”

  Rolling my eyes, I simply shook my head at her. She and I had very different tastes in men. The bigger the better, she always said, whereas I…well, I just preferred them to not look like they ate small children for breakfast. Not that I had the greatest track record with men, and knew firsthand that looks were incredibly deceiving. This doorman could be the next Mother Teresa, for all I knew. I had very little experience in the men department as it was, and lately even less interaction with them. The entire year and a half I’d been living here I’d gone on a sum total of zero dates.

  Nikki had let me get away with my hermit lifestyle at first, but lately she’d been becoming more insistent that I needed to meet someone, that at twenty-seven years old I was far too young and pretty to be hiding myself away from the world.

  “Just no,” I repeated, and laughed again.

  She rolled her eyes at me. “Fine, maybe he’s a little too...”

  “Full of steroids,” I helpfully supplied.

  “It’s not a tu-mah,” Nikki said, holding up her slim arm and attempting to make a muscle.

  We were still laughing by the time we made it to the front of the line and presented the wannabe Arnold with our IDs. Towering over us, he grinned, revealing a shockingly white set of teeth that only exacerbated the dangerous aura surrounding him. It was a gesture I’m sure he meant to appear welcoming, but after checking his list and stamping my hand with a red infinity symbol—a sideways figure eight—I found myself edging quickly away from him, dragging Nikki along with me.

  Upon entering the dimly lit club, a wave of hot air engulfed us as bass thudded in my ears and vibrated through my bones, causing my skin to pebble with goose bumps. Immediately I slid off the thin black jacket that Nikki had loaned me. In fact, she’d loaned me my entire outfit, since my own clothing tended to be more of the jeans and T-shirt variety, not short skirts and heels. Or like tonight’s outfit: a lacy black dress with thin spaghetti straps and a pair of matching kitten heels. It was still simple and plain, the skirt hitting just above my knees, but not nearly as plain as my usual ensembles.

  Dropping our jackets off at the coat check, we crossed the club, weaving in and out of people as we slowly made our way toward the bar. Once there, Nikki made a big show of waving over one of many bartenders and ordering two shots of something that smelled vaguely the way I envisioned battery acid smelling. Refusing mine, I ordered a Manhattan cocktail.

  Taking a long look around, I couldn’t deny that the club was amazing. It was luxurious yet relaxing, with somber tones for the most part, and small dashings of vibrant colors strategically positioned around the large space, giving it more of a luxurious and exclusive feel. And most people there were dressed in typical club attire: the women wearing short, tight dresses or skirts and semi-revealing tops, while the men donned jeans and shirts, thankfully leaving me feeling not wholly out of place.

  Nikki wasted no time in downing her shot. Swallowing it back, she grimaced, then she was grinning and grabbing my wrist. “Time to dance,” she shouted, her features bunched into an adorable and pleading expression.

  I shook my head, feeling nervous and not nearly drunk enough to do anything as crazy as dance. “You go,” I shouted back. “I want to finish my drink.” Grabbing my cocktail, I took a tentative sip.

  “You promised,” she whined. “You said you would dance tonight.” She fluttered her fake lashes at me.

  For a woman of almost thirty she really knew how to play the spoiled teenager card. Only five-foot-three, with long black hair, dark brown eyes, and fair skin smattered with freckles, she was downright adorable. Yet she had been single for almost a year now, and was insistent that this year was the year she would meet Mr. Right. Or that one of us would. Personally, I was banking on her.

  “I will,” I said, laughing nervously. “I just need a little more Dutch courage first.”

  “I’ll be back then?” she asked, glancing between me and looking longingly at the dance floor.

  I waved her away. “Go, go,” I said, smiling. “Have fun.”

  Leaving her clutch with me, she sashayed away, shaking her hips, her arms already in the air. Men all over the club turned to watch her dance. She ignored them all, making her way straight past her admirers and onto the center of the dance floor, where she really began to move. Nikki was beautiful and funny, never taking herself or anyone else too seriously. It was beyond me why she was still single. But then, it was beyond me why anything happened the way it did. I had given up questioning the why’s of things a long time ago. You couldn’t change the way of things, or why people were the way they were, you could only learn to accept and adapt accordingly.

  Or in my case…run away.

  Still watching her, I felt a pang of envy at her freeness and her spontaneity—two things I knew very little about. No longer smiling, I turned back to the bar.

  “Another drink?”

  I glanced up to find one of the bartenders smiling down at me. He was a good-looking
man—early twenties, I guessed—with dark, handsome features.

  “Please,” I said loudly, gesturing to Nikki’s shot glass and my half-empty cocktail.

  He took the money I handed over, his hand warm and soft as he took the cash, his fingertips lingering on my palm for a fraction too long. Blushing deeply, I quickly glanced away. I had no idea how to act around men. Their attention, when one of them actually noticed me, threw me into an emotional tailspin, and nine times out of ten, I tended to act like a bumbling idiot.

  Refusing to look back at the bartender, even after he’d brought me my refill, I kept my gaze downward, playing with the cherry in my fresh drink, repeatedly dipping it into the amber liquid and swirling it around and around.

  I had come to this city a fractured woman, broken and on the verge of a breakdown, but somehow Nikki had put me back together. After I’d answered her “roommate wanted” ad, it had been Nikki who’d helped me find a job, and even more incredible, had somehow started me on the path to sorting through all my emotional baggage as well, and find the woman I was underneath it all. I had forgotten that woman somewhere along the way, and God, I missed her. I missed her easy smile, the way she liked to sing in the shower and dance across a kitchen floor. I missed the way she had laughed—loud and carefree.

  Who was I anymore?

  I was lost, but I desperately wanted to find me again.

  “That’s an odd choice.”

  I jumped as I turned toward the voice, startled to find the large form of a man standing unnervingly close to me. Staring down at the shots of battery acid and my cocktail, he shook his head, a small smile tugging on his full lips.

  “Sorry,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. He held up his hands in mock defense “Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  I flushed, heat spiraling up my neck and exploding into my cheeks. He was a good-looking man. No, he was a great-looking man. With dark hair, short and with a slight curl to it that gave it an adorably tousled and unruly look, he looked me over with crystal clear blue eyes that the sight of sent my nerves ablaze. Like most of the club-goers, he was dressed casual-chic, in a pair of distressed jeans that hugged his trim hips and legs, that he’d paired with a simple black T-shirt. A lone silver watch was the only jewelry that graced his lightly tanned skin. But the most endearing thing about him was the pair of Converse sneakers on his feet. Smudged, worn-looking, they didn’t quite fit the rest of him, yet at the same time gave him an approachable vibe that I didn’t think he’d have without them.