Girl Breaker

by Harper Kincaid

  I waved my hand back and forth. “Um…hello? I already volunteered to help you not five minutes ago.”

  The usual luminous green of his eyes darkened as he pressed his lips together in a tight line. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “What do you mean? Don’t you trust me with her?”

  “Of course I do. I trust you more than I did her own mother.”

  That compliment hit me deep, right in my soft, squishy center, but I schooled my expression, not wanting to feed the “feels” he was giving me. I didn’t know if I could trust them. “Then, what’s the problem?”

  He rested his hands on his hips, only accentuating the way his jeans hung low on his body. I bet if I lifted his shirt, I’d see his six-pack, along with a trail of hair leading down past whatever kind of underwear he wore. Unless he didn’t wear any underwear…oh my…

  Then I saw him snap his fingers by my ear, sounding like a firecracker. “Hello? Earth to Jessica?”

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I got lost in thought for a second.”

  “No shit,” he replied, taking a step into my space. And just like that, the air around us changed again. “What do you think is going to happen, with us coming over here almost every day?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Of course I knew what he meant, but there was no way I was going to be the one to give this thing between us life outside my head. I had a spine, but as my sister would say, I had no “cojones”.

  He grimaced. “I wouldn’t want to dirty you up. The kind of stains and scars I leave behind don’t come out.”

  My lips parted, but nothing came out because what could I say to that? We weren’t really talking about me caring for Piper anymore, that was for sure.

  And I knew he was right. His appetite for women was relentless and predictable, like me with a bag of salt and pepper potato chips: always the same kind and never able to stop at just one.

  He’d gotten the nickname Mad Max because he was a wild thing. Even though he ran his own repair shop and took care of his daughter, there was still something feral in him. I’d be stupid not to remember that.

  Although, there was no need to warn me because, in spite of the lies I told myself, I kept tabs on him. Since the house he rented from my friend, Lauren, was only two doors down, I could catch his comings and goings right from my front yard, which was probably why our garden was looking even more bountiful and cared for than when our mother was alive. My sister may have renovated our family home’s interior, but I had my mother’s green thumb, and I exercised the heck out of it over the summer in order to catch a glimpse of him.

  “I get it, you’re a manwhore,” I huffed, a delayed reply, but one with the sass he said he supposedly admired.

  He let out something between a growl and a chuckle. “Darlin’, when you say ‘manwhore’ it implies the word ‘whore’ is only for women. A whore is a whore—man or woman. You’re a feminist, you should know that.”

  Crap, he got me there on that one. “I don’t know whether to be impressed with being called out on my unintentionally misogynistic assumption or floored you don’t mind being called a whore.”

  “I call things like I see ’em. I expect for others around me to do the same.”

  I looked away, off to the side, while tightening my grip on my elbows. “I see…so sex means nothing to you.”

  He grabbed hold of my chin and turned my head back toward him. “I don’t make love, Gingersnap. I fuck. And I like it rough and dirty and deep.”

  I blinked several times in a row. “So being with one woman is synonymous with boring sex? You think you have to give yourself away to strangers in order to be able to get what you need?”

  His eyes rounded, brows raised. Now it was his turn to be at a loss for words.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the same woman come around twice,” I went on, talking more to myself than to him. “Every time your dad and stepmom keep Piper for a sleepover, the women start coming around, in and out of that house. It’s like watching a turnstile at an amusement park.”

  “You’ve been watching me?”

  “We’re neighbors,” I mumbled. “I’m going to notice things.”

  “Uh-huh.” He was amused. “Well, I’ve been watching you too and I know you’re looking for your own knight in shining armor. Nothing wrong with that, but I’m not him.”

  Well then, that’s that, I thought. We’re not going to happen. I felt the pain in my chest radiating out, but I didn’t have time to let the hurt seep in too deep because he kept talking as if my world—or the possibility of the one I had hoped we’d build together—hadn’t just shattered into countless pieces.

  “So if that’s clear between us, then we can work out a schedule for Piper.” He kept on going. “Thank Christ she’s got you as a good influence and can hang here. Shit, if she were at my garage? With the women that come ’round there?” He forced out a laugh and shook his head. “Yeah, if I’ve learned one thing from this latest clusterfuck it’s that I can’t shit where I eat. Ashley Lynne just about chewed my head off when Piper got done with her.”

  The room was far from drafty, but regardless, I was cold again. I wrapped my arms around myself, absentmindedly rubbing my hands up and down my biceps and shoulders. We were only a few feet apart, but he might as well have been a continent away.

  “Well, it’s good you’ve learned your lesson then. It would probably be confusing to Piper if you were sleeping with your hired help,” I remarked as I turned around and pretended to get busy with stacks of papers on my dining room table, keeping my head down. “I’ll email you a detailed schedule for Piper. Now, if you don’t mind, Max, I’ve got a lot to do. Feel free to let yourself out.”

  He didn’t immediately respond, and even though I didn’t look over at him, I could feel his eyes on me as I flipped through some papers, not really seeing a word. I was too aware of Max.

  “Hmm,” he answered, his voice more measured now, “thanks again for helping out with Piper. I’m much obliged.”

  “Not a problem.” I kept my eyes and head down, my hair blanketing around me. What other women used to attract the objects of their desire, I needed as a shield. There was just no way I wanted him to see the hurt and disappointment in my eyes.

  His footsteps finally moved, but in the wrong direction, and, before I had a chance to react, he reached out and tucked my hair behind my ear. The way his fingertips grazed my skin sent a shiver through my body, making my nipples pucker underneath my blouse.

  “There,” he said. “That’s better. Now I can see you before I go.”

  “Please don’t do that anymore,” I pleaded, keeping my voice low and eyes focused downward. “I don’t like it. To be touched like that.”

  I had to get out of that room. I blinked hard a couple of times while stepping away from the table, forgetting there was a chair directly behind me. I stumbled sideways, and he lunged forward, grabbing and pulling me to him. I flopped against the front of him, my feet still tangled together.

  “Whoa, easy there, baby,” Max soothed as he lifted my frame off the ground in his embrace, allowing gravity to naturally do its thing and detangle my limbs. Then he gently eased me back down to the floor. But instead of letting go, he just held on tight. And dear Lord, everything that was Max Reinquist enveloped me: his woodsy-musky scent, the heat from his skin, the hunger and longing I caught in his eyes.

  “You can let go of me,” I said, unable to look away from his penetrating stare. “I’ve got my balance back.”

  He didn’t answer. He didn’t say anything, just kept looking back and forth between my eyes and my mouth. I ran the tip of my tongue across my bottom lip, silently hoping this was going to be the moment Max stopped running from us and finally kissed me, proving he didn’t see me as some uptight schoolmarm, that he had imagination enough to picture me with m
y hair down. I could be just as sexy as those biker chicks he usually liked. I just preferred to wear my bustiers under my clothes and behind closed doors. He was holding me tight now, taking me in. Could he sense all I was, all I kept hidden? Did he understand his untamable nature matched a wildness I usually kept contained?

  He released his hold on me. “You’re right,” he answered. “No need for me to hold on, is there? You’re safe, not in any more danger.”

  But I want you to hold on. I want you to claim me.

  “No more danger,” I replied, my disappointment so palpable, I could taste it in my mouth. Romance novels constantly waxed on about how a lover’s kiss tasted like mint and cinnamon, fresh starts, and the honeyed heat of arousal.

  But they never talked about the taste of not getting kissed, how the sour sticks to your tongue, travels down your throat. I’d had a whole summer—and now an autumn—of that kind of sour, and I’d never get used to it.

  Somehow, I was able to collect myself enough to walk to my front door and open it wide. “Tell Piper she can come Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays.”

  I finally met his eyes. They were downcast, along with the corners of his mouth. He reminded me of some hangdog basset hound. Was he expecting me to make it easy for him?

  He gave a nod. “Will do, Gingersnap.”

  God, at first I’d hated that nickname because it made me feel like a kid. Now I couldn’t stand it because it felt like a painful reminder of something that could’ve been but never would be. The words stuck in my gut.

  Just as I was about to shut the door, he stopped it with his foot.

  “What is it?”

  He pressed those lips of his into a thin, hard line, peering at me through his lashes. “I’m doing you a favor, you know, keeping things at arm’s length.”

  I dug my nails into the meaty part of my palms. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m not the right kind of man for you,” he went on. “But I’ll always look out for you, Gingersnap. You have my word.”

  “Who are you trying to convince, you or me?”

  Those pale green eyes of his darkened in a way I’ve never seen before, and that gorgeous mouth of his parted, as he skimmed his bottom lip with his tongue. Holding on to my doorframe, he leaned his body forward, almost coming face-to-face with me. He was all stretched out, like a panther ready to pounce.

  “I’m a man who likes kink. I like control. And more than anything, I get off on a woman who owns her down-and-dirty side.” His voice rumbled through me. “I’m not one of those men who wants some doe-eyed innocent who doesn’t know her way around a cock. I hate that shit.

  “I can’t deny you’re fucking beautiful and I get off on the way you stand up to me. Not many women have your guts and even fewer have your brains. And I know you’ve been waiting for me to make my move. I can’t deny I’d like to ease that ache you’ve got buildin’ there for me. It wouldn’t take me long to get you all worked up under me, begging for my tongue and my dick between your legs. But as much as I may love a good lick of vanilla, I know me and I’d get bored. So, I’m trying to do the right thing here. You get me?”

  What an awful thing to do, I thought, to not even give me the illusion of the upper hand. Usually, I’d just freeze up, like a deer in headlights. I was great at handling confrontations when I was advocating for a student, but not so much when it came to myself.

  But his arrogance and condescending attitude was so over-the-top, well, it burnt off any of my usual shyness. I couldn’t allow it. No way, no sir. Even if it meant I had to lie.

  “Max, I don’t know what you think I was offering here, but I can assure you of a couple of things, one being that it takes a heck of a lot more than a wink and a smile to attract a real woman, but you wouldn’t know about that, considering the easy pickings I see troll around your place every week.”

  His nostrils flared. “Is that right?”

  Shaking my head, I kept going. “You’re an idiot. And you may be something in bed, but you don’t know the first thing about women.”

  “You think that?”

  “Yes…yes I do,” I replied, feeling myself getting even more worked up. “I ought to thank you, actually. All these months, I’ve been thinking you were this enigmatic, brilliant man, with your motorbikes and your Gothic fiction books, your love for documentaries and all these layers and layers of interesting,” I went on, waving my arms around. “All the more reason why I didn’t get the one-night stands with women named after booze and candy bars. But you’ve just cleared all that up. So, thank you. Thank you very much.”

  He narrowed his gaze at me. Boy, he went from amused to pissed right quick, but I didn’t care one bit. I could even see the muscles in his jaw ticking away, right along with the vein in his neck. He was just about to say something, but this time, I was going to be the one to interrupt him.

  “And by the way, for the record?” I took a couple steps into his space this time. “Just because a woman doesn’t like to let it all hang out doesn’t mean she isn’t wild. Don’t let the long skirts and laced-up boots fool you. If you were to get even a li’l taste of me, you would’ve discovered under my vanilla is a whole swirl of different flavors.” I grabbed his belt buckle and pulled him to me. “And all of them are very kink-friendly, just dying for the right man to own me.”

  Those words wiped the pissed-off smug right off his face.

  And with that, I pushed him away and slammed the door, locked it, and hauled myself to the other side of the house because I didn’t want to hear if he stomped off my porch or lingered. Now that I had the last word, I needed to stay as far away from Mad Max as possible.

  Chapter Two

  “You’ve got a reputation, you know.”

  I was laser-focused on the kids, but that phrase got my attention.

  “What are you talking about? I have no life whatsoever.”

  I was standing off to the side of the bleachers in the cafeteria, monitoring the social interactions—or lack thereof—between the fourth- and fifth-graders during late lunch. Since Natalie and I were learning specialists who “floated” in and out of other teachers’ classrooms to work with students, we bumped into one another often, even when we weren’t in our shared office.

  “Oh trust me, I only wish you had some dirty sex romps you’ve been keeping on the down-low from me. That’s not the kind of rep I’m talking about.”

  “Well, then, share the wealth,” I said, eyeballing her.

  “Walk with me. I have a phone conference in ten minutes.”

  “Fine,” I answered, still scanning the boys and girls, staying off to the side, trying my best to keep a low profile.

  “So it seems you have a nickname,” she began, her heels clicking loudly on the hard, linoleum flooring. “Want to know what it is?”

  “Hold on a second, Nat.” Lunch was almost over and the bell was just about to ring. I quickened my pace while reaching into the pocket of my sweater cardigan.

  “Hey Lucy. Hi Mara.”

  The two girls perked up, offering radiant smiles. Almost in unison they answered, “Hello Ms. Lockhart!”

  “So I’ve heard one of your classmates was having a hard time with another girl, that she was getting picked on, but you two intervened. Because of you, I heard the bullying stopped. Is that true?”

  The girls looked at each other, then back at me. “Yes,” Lucy answered.

  “It wasn’t right, the way Gabby was teasing Kira,” Mara said.

  “That’s true, but many times, people are afraid to speak up, even when they know it is wrong.” I paused to let what I said sink in a bit. Then I smiled. “Proud of you two.” I took my hand out of my pocket and placed two of my handmade sun cutouts in front of them, each with a gift card taped to the center. I had picked that particular symbol because the school’s tag line was “The sun always shines at Letty Archibald El
ementary.”

  Just as they squealed, the bell rang and they hugged me fast before dashing off to their next class. “Bye, Ms. Lockhart! Thank you so much!”

  “Keep spreading the awesome!” I called back.

  “The Locksmith,” Natalie said as we fell in step with one another.

  “What?”

  “That’s your nickname,” she answered with a playful smirk. “The Locksmith.”

  I gave her a blank look.

  “It’s because you have found the key to unlocking the best in everyone. Like Mara and Lucy. Those two last year? They were this close—” she placed her thumb and forefinger a hairsbreadth away from each other, “—to being the mean girls, but now look at them.”

  “I’ll be truly happy when my antibullying program proposal is approved and implemented county-wide,” I said as I entered our office and sat down at my desk.

  We were lucky enough to be assigned an office to share. Of course, both of us being fairly new to the school system meant we got the tiniest space, which was fine with me, but for Natalie, who stood at 5’11”, it was physically painful watching her settle into her chair. I bit my lip every time I observed her try to tuck her daddy longlegs under her desk.

  “Speaking of gossip, anything new in the dating front? Or even the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am arena?”

  “Oh please.” I waved her off as I rummaged through the stacks of folders. “Don’t you think if I had anything juicy to share, you’d be the first one to know?”

  “This is true,” she said while rummaging through her purse. “Besides your sister, I’m your go-to girl for all things actually fun in your life.” She found her lipstick and compact mirror and studied her mouth in her reflection. “You know, you haven’t had a real date all summer.”

  “Uh, he-llo,” I spoke in a hushed whisper, looking up. “My sister was kidnapped and almost killed. And then she got engaged. Remember?” Everyone in town knew the story of Sam’s theater director going stalker-crazy over her, but I still kept my voice down. I certainly didn’t need to be the one reminding everyone.