Clean Break
Page 27
On a fresh piece of kitten paper, I wrote, “Love you forever.”
He stole the pen back, pressed his cheek to my shoulder, and wrote, “Back at you, weirdo.” Then he lifted his lips to my ear, and whispered, “Forever.”
An Excerpt from Controlled Burn (Farm College #1)
Did you miss the first book in the Farm College series? Read on for a small taste of Controlled Burn!
The Lumberyard was the only gay bar in western Oklahoma, and it was within walking distance of the Farm College campus and our house. When Travis and I slipped through the entrance, the dance floor was already pulsing with music and the sway of bodies. The beat of each song sang through my blood, much like the two shots Travis pushed on me as soon as we reached the bar. I was not a tequila guy. Unless I was eager to get shit-faced, and let’s be honest, I was. But 8 p.m. was a little too early to get trashed, and I needed to make it to midnight. The memories of Diego were always worse after midnight.
I tried to tell Travis I was still sick from yesterday when he pushed a third shot on me, but he hadn’t believed I was sick in the first place. He’d accused me of an “afternoon delight gone wrong.”
Thank God, a big guy in a leather jacket caught Trav’s eye about ten minutes in, so I’d get a temporary reprieve to let the alcohol catch up with me. Sure enough, within minutes, he abandoned me at the bar without even a good-bye.
A rowdy pack of men and women came through the front door with a gust of night-chilled air. I sized all of them up out of habit as they filed past me. Paulie was toward the back of the group, his arm around the shoulders of a petite woman with short black hair. They looked striking, like twin anime characters, all big eyes and delicate features.
My heartbeat sped up as he got closer. I wasn’t sure I was happy to see him. My main goal for the night was to get fucked or drunk until the Diego in my head disappeared. I wasn’t going to fool around with Paulie, and I wasn’t getting drunk with him either, so it shouldn’t matter one bit to me if he was at the Yard or not. But now, with the recollection of Paulie’s irrepressible kindness fresh in my mind, it was impossible not to be drawn to him at least a little.
Paulie didn’t appear to see me sitting at the bar, until he was ordering. I leaned over to tell the bartender that Paulie’s first drink was on me and bought one for the woman as well. Paulie grinned at me and sauntered over until we were side-by-side. The music beat so loudly we couldn’t hear each other speak without getting really close, so I just smiled back at him. Thankfully, he didn’t ask me if I was still sick. I didn’t want to think about that right now. Soon, when I could no longer keep the memories of Diego at bay, I would get trashed or find someone to blow. But I wasn’t there yet.
His friend shotgunned her drink—a gin and tonic, which you were probably not supposed to shotgun—and then grabbed my hand, passed my beer to Paulie, and shouted at me, “I wanna dance, and you’ll do.”
I only resisted a bit. I wasn’t used to women pulling me anywhere, and I was worried I’d screw this whole dancing thing up. She probably didn’t want to bump and grind, which was really all I was good for.
Thankfully, a pop song with a catchy chorus flared up just as we made it to the middle of the dance floor. In the space of a few seconds, the dancers around us quit dirty dancing and began jumping to the beat. When the chorus started, the entire club shouted the words, and it was ridiculous and perfect and a rush of giddiness bubbled through me.
“I’m Angie,” Paulie’s friend yelled after a spin that put her right in my personal space. I shouted my name in her ear, and she hip bumped me in acknowledgment.
“Are you Paulie’s sister?”
She stopped dancing, so I stopped jumping, even though I was finally getting the hang of it.
“No. We’re not related. Thank God. His family is a shit show.” She rolled her eyes and resumed bouncing and twirling around me.
After several songs, Angie grabbed my hand. “Come on, I need another drink.”
Paulie smirked at us as we approached. I leaned against the bar beside him and scanned the room for Travis, who was still talking to the guy in the leather jacket. Without another word, Angie kissed Paulie on the cheek and flounced off to the rest of their group, where a bucket of Coors Light awaited.
“Enjoy dancing with a girl?” Paulie asked in my ear. His breath was warm, and it tickled my neck.
I couldn’t help but smile because I had enjoyed it—the whisper of his breath and dancing with Angie.
“It was a first for me. I never even danced with a girl at prom,” I admitted.
Diego and I had gone to prom our junior year with a big group of friends. We’d spent the night getting drunk on the cheap liquor he’d smuggled inside in his cowboy-boot flask. Afterward, I’d nursed him as he got sick on the side of the road. I could still see the glisten of sweat on the back of his neck and hear the tremble in his voice as he apologized over and over.
I hadn’t gone to senior prom. Diego had no longer been there, and I just couldn’t.
“Dancing with women is the best. There’s no pressure or expectation,” Paulie said.
“There would be no pressure or expectation if you wanted to dance with me either.”
I didn’t know where that came from, because I used dancing almost solely as a means for hooking up, and suddenly, I was offering Paulie the opposite. But I understood why he’d want to dance without the weight of casual hookups pressing in on him. It was hard to let loose and enjoy dancing when it was only about sex, when you knew your partner was judging you and trying to decide how fuckable you were. It could suck the joy right out of it. But dancing had never been about joy for me. And I had never wanted to dance just for the fun of it. Until now.
His dark eyes held mine, and I wondered again if his sooty lashes were the product of mascara or if he really was that pretty. But before I could ask about his makeup habits, he downed his beer, handed me mine, and waited while I did the same.
Then we danced.
Buy Controlled Burn (Farm College #1) today!
Also by Erin McLellan
Farm College Series
Controlled Burn
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Love Life Series
Life on Pause
Life of Bliss
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Acknowledgments
This book took a wild ride to publication, and there are a ton of people who were instrumental in making it the book it is today! If I missed you, I am so sorry!
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I want to thank my editor, Edie Danford, for being so generous with her time, skill, and talent. You were a godsend. Thanks to Susie Selva and Keyanna Butler for helping to whip this book into shape. A big thanks to all of my beta readers: Jill Wexler, Roberta Blablanski, Allison Temple, Layla Reyne, and L.J. Hayward. To Natasha Snow—thanks for putting up with my overzealousness and for making Travis a worthy cover. To Caz Galloway—thank you for your initial notes, one of which drastically changed the course of this story.
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The biggest of hugs and endless coffees to Karen for being the best writing buddy, and Allison, Layla, and L.J for keeping me sprinting and laughing. Your friendships are so important to me.
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I can’t have an acknowledgment section without thanking my wonderful family. Mom, Dad, and Hayley—thank you for the support. And Megan—thank you for keeping me on track with the farm stuff and for being the best first reader.
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Lastly, to Justin. There are no words to explain how important you are to me and to this story about college sweethearts. I am so happy I get to hear your story for the rest of our lives.
About the Author
Erin McLellan is the author of several contemporary romances, all of which have characters who are complex, goodhearted, and a little quirky. She likes her stories to have a sexy spark and a happily ever after. Originally from Oklahoma, she currently lives in Alaska and spends her time dreaming up love stories set in the Great Plains. She is a lover of chocolate, college sports, antiquing, Dr Pepper, and binge-worthy TV shows. Erin is a member of Romance Writers of America and its Alaska chapter.