Gram was pulling the final batch of cookies out of the oven when I walked into the kitchen and peeked out the window. She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye.
“You look nice, Brooke. Where are you off to tonight?”
“Chet’s taking me out to dinner, and then who knows.”
She set the cookie sheet down on the cooling rack and gave me a look.
“What?” I asked, already on the defensive.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“No, but you gave me the look.”
Gram looked at me again, this time with an innocent expression on her face. “What look is that, dear?”
“You know what I’m talking about. The look that says you think I’m about to do something stupid.”
She opened her mouth to reply and then pursed her lips into a scowl when a loud honk sounded in the driveway.
“Is that any way to pick you up for a date? In my day, if a boy had honked for me, my father would have introduced him to the wrong end of his shotgun.”
I picked up my purse and kissed her again on the cheek. “It’s not your day anymore, Gram.”
“Well, a gentleman would still come to the door,” she grumbled.
“Bye, Gram. Don’t wait up.”
She sighed. “I never do.”
Chet was sitting in his car looking at his phone when I opened the passenger door and slid in.
“Hey, babe,” Chet said, not taking his eyes off his phone.
“Hi,” I chirped, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek.
I sat there as his thumbs flew across his phone, typing out a text.
“So, where are we going for dinner?” I asked.
He glanced over at me and then back at his phone. “Yeah, about that,” he began.
I could feel my good mood slowly slipping away. “What about it?” I demanded.
“See, the thing is, the guitarist for Ace’s band got arrested last night and he hasn’t made bail yet. They need me to fill in for him at their gig tonight.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. “Are you cancelling on me?”
He glanced at me again, and seeing my murderous expression, he finally set his phone down.
“No, babe. I just don’t have time to take you to dinner. But we can stop by my place on the way to the gig for a quickie.” Chet reached across the center console and ran his hand up my thigh, pushing my dress up with it.
I grabbed his hand before it could go any further. “No, way,” I said. I threw his hand off my leg and got out, slamming the car door as hard as I could.
“Wait a second, babe,” Chet called, getting out too and following me towards the house.
Spinning around, I stuck my finger in his face. “Don’t call me babe,” I hissed.
Chet took my hand and tried to pull me to him, but I resisted. I was so busy shooting daggers at Chet with my eyes that I hadn’t noticed another car pull in to the driveway until a voice I didn’t recognize spoke beside me.
“Is there a problem here?”
Both Chet and I turned at the same time to look at the voice’s owner. Even without Julie’s detailed description earlier, I would have known this was the new principal. The button down shirt and dark rimmed glasses gave him away. His brown hair was a little too long on top, and he had a five o’clock shadow along his jaw line. I had to look up to meet his eyes as he was taller than Chet and skinnier, though he looked to be in decent shape.
“No,” Chet replied with a look that clearly told this guy to mind his own business.
While Chet stared him down, I pulled my hand free and took a step back out of his reach. Chet was covered in tattoos and piercings, but this guy didn’t look intimidated at all. Worried that he was going to get hurt if he didn’t stop the staring contest with Chet, I put my hands on Chet’s broad chest and shoved at him.
“There’s no problem. Chet was just leaving.”
Chet looked down at my hands and back up to me. He scoffed, “Yeah, I’m leaving. Don’t bother calling me anymore, babe. You’re not worth the trouble.”
“Asshole!” I screamed after him as he got in his car and sped away, tires squealing. I wanted to stomp my feet and throw a full blown tantrum right there in the driveway, but I was also aware that I still had an audience. Holding in the anger only caused it to spill out in the form of tears.
“Are you okay?” the principal asked me.
I swiped the tears away with my fingertips and lifted my chin. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
He peered through his glasses at me, clearly doubting my assertion of being fine. Clearing his throat, he offered his hand. “I’m Adam Branigan. I live…over there,” he said gesturing toward his apartment over the garage.
Sniffling, I put my hand in his. “I’m Brooke Mills. I live here,” I replied, waving my hand behind me in the direction of the house.
He looked unsure of what to do and just stood awkwardly while I silently tried not to cry in the middle of the driveway. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yup! I’m great,” I said with way more enthusiasm than I felt.
Adam didn’t look convinced, but he nodded, and I turned to walk toward the house. When I reached the kitchen door, he spoke again.
“Brooke?”
I turned around. “Yeah?”
“Any guy who thinks you’re not worth the trouble is clearly an idiot.”
Chapter Four
Adam
The sun was just beginning to set by the time I returned from my run through town. The only time I had to run was either in the morning before work or in the evening, and I had never been a morning person. When I ran down the main street I noticed the crowd inside The Last Call. I considered stopping in for another burger and a beer. But ultimately I ran home and planned on ordering a pizza.
The fact that I wanted to check in on my new neighbor had very little if nothing to do with it, of course. On my way out for my run, I had seen my landlady leaving, which meant Brooke was home alone. That is if she was home at all. Maybe lover boy had realized a girl that beautiful was always worth the trouble, or maybe she had gone out with her friends to bitch about what a bastard he was. I had an older sister, so I knew how these things worked.
It wasn’t my responsibility to make sure she was okay. I had only just met her. But that didn’t stop me from knocking on the back door on my way by her house. There were no lights on, and I had given up and walked down the steps when the door opened.
Earlier she had been radiating sexuality in a red dress and black boots. Now she was wearing cutoff shorts and a tight t-shirt, which did absolutely nothing to lower her sex appeal. Her long red hair hung in shiny waves over her shoulders, and those eyes. Those emerald green eyes, which were now red from crying, looked at me warily through the screen door.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hi.”
“I, uh, just wanted to make sure you’re doing okay.”
“I’m fine,” she lied. Clearly she wasn’t okay, but a stranger probably wasn’t who she wanted to confide in.
“Okay,” I said backing slowly away. “Listen, I’m going to order a pizza for dinner, and I’ll have plenty to share. If you feel like you don’t want to be alone. I’m a good listener.”
The corners of her full mouth turned up slightly, and I wondered how much more beautiful she would be when she was really smiling.
“Thanks, but I’m sure you don’t care about my stupid drama.”
I shrugged, because I certainly did care but wasn’t sure why. “Well, the offer stands if you change your mind.” I gave a wave and went to my apartment.
While I unlocked my door, I glanced over to see her still standing in the doorway watching me. Shaking my head at myself, I went inside. The poor girl probably thought I was crazy or trying to get in her pants.
Maybe I should go back into town to grab a burger. But that would mean going out again, and I was tired. This week had kicked my ass. Louise hadn’t yet warmed u
p to me, if she ever would. I may have left behind the issues of a big city school, but I hadn’t anticipated having just as many issues in a small town - just of a different sort.
I called in an order for a pizza to be delivered and then jumped in the shower. The shower must have been designed for a very short person, because at six feet two inches tall, I had to duck to get my head under the stream of water. And I had already learned to shower quickly unless I wanted ice cold water to rinse with. And God forbid I run the washing machine and the shower at the same time.
Just as I wrapped a towel around my waist, there was a knock on the door. The pizza place was quick. It hadn’t even been ten minutes. I grabbed my wallet out of my pants and answered the door.
Instead of a pizza deliver guy, a gorgeous redhead with long legs stood in the doorway holding a bottle of tequila and a bag of limes. Brooke offered me a sheepish smile as her eyes took in my near naked appearance.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” I replied.
“Um, I can go if you’re…”
“No! Come on in,” I said, holding the door open and stepping back so she could enter. “I was just taking a quick shower. The pizza should be here any minute. Make yourself comfortable while I get dressed.”
Brooke walked past me and set the tequila and limes on the kitchen counter. She stuck her hands in her back pockets and turned back to me, her eyes quickly scanning over me. It was an awkward moment, and I realized I was still standing with the door open…in just my towel.
Quickly I shut the door and grabbed some clothes from the dresser. The only room in this place that was separated by a door was the bathroom, so that’s where I went to change. I ran some gel through my hair before I went back out.
Brooke was still standing by the counter, nervously twirling a lock of hair around her finger. She looked completely uneasy, and I wondered why she was here if she didn’t want to be.
“Are you okay, Brooke? You seem a little…uncomfortable.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m okay. It’s just that all of my friends were busy tonight, and I really didn’t want to be alone. I thought it was really nice of you to invite me over, so that’s why I’m here. But I don’t know if you invited me over just to hang out…or…”
I held up my hands in a gesture of surrender and smiled at her. “You looked like you could use a friend. That’s all. So, let’s eat some pizza, have some tequila and you can tell me all about the tattooed asshole.”
She laughed, and the sound washed over and through me. I was right about her smile. In full force, it was breathtaking.
“I don’t want to talk about Chet. Tell me how you wound up here in my grandma’s apartment,” she said as she crossed the small space and sat cross legged on my bed.
I looked around in bewilderment. “This is an apartment?”
She laughed again. “I know, right? My friend, Poppy, used to live here before you moved in. I don’t know how she could stand it. I couldn’t even fit half my shoe collection in that closet, let alone all of my clothes.”
A knock on the door signaled the arrival of the pizza, and I set the box on the bed with a pile of napkins. I took two shot glasses from the cabinet over the sink and sliced up the limes. The salt shaker and bottle of tequila rounded out the beverage tray that I set on the nightstand.
“Ladies first,” I said to Brooke when I handed her a shot. She licked her hand and sprinkled on the salt. I had to pause in my act of pouring my own shot, because the sight of her pink tongue licking over her tan delicate skin would have caused me to pour the tequila straight onto the floor. Brooke tipped back the shot glass, licked the salt from her hand and sucked on a lime. Holy hell.
I had to talk about something boring real fast, or my “just offering friendship” thing was going down the drain.
“So, you really want to know how I ended up here?” I asked, because there was nothing more boring than talking about myself.
Brooke nodded enthusiastically as she took a bite of pizza. She even looked sexy eating pizza. Jesus. We should talk about how a sexy as hell redhead with curves I’ve only dreamed of came to be sitting on my bed. Because shit like that doesn’t happen to me. Ever.
“Well, I grew up in New Jersey. My parents still live there, as does my older sister, Becky. She’s married with two kids and one on the way. After college I started teaching. I always knew I wanted to teach, and I wanted to work with the younger kids. You know, before they get old enough to hate their teachers.”
Brooke smiled. “I’m sure the kids all love you.”
“After a few years in the classroom, I got my Masters degree and took an assistant principal job in New York City. It was a rough neighborhood, and we dealt with a lot of issues that young kids shouldn’t be facing. When I heard about this job, I had to check it out. Not only was it a step up to Principal from Assistant, but it was in a small town.”
“The school is lucky to have you. Principal Edwards had been there forever. I remember him as being really old when I was in school and that was a long time ago,” Brooke said.
I ran my hand through my hair, which was still slightly damp from my shower. “I’m not sure if they really thought I was qualified or if they were just desperate. I heard Principal Edwards’ ‘retirement’ was kind of sudden.”
Brooke rolled her eyes. “Oh, it was sudden all right. What a perv, going after a teenage girl. Some people are still behind him, but seriously, men can be such bastards sometimes.” Then she seemed to remember I was, in fact, a man. “I mean, most men. Not you. I’m sure you’re a great guy.”
“It’s okay. There are a lot of assholes out there. But there are also a lot of good guys too,” I said. She held my gaze, and I could see in her eyes that she didn’t have a lot of faith in that assertion. It was just a guess, but I’d be willing to bet my teaching certificate that Chet wasn’t the first guy to do a number on her.
I was overwhelmed with the urge to show her that good guys did exist, and that I was one of them. But that’s not what she needed right now.
When we were done eating, I threw the pizza box in the fridge. Brooke poured another round of shots for us, and this time I did mine at the same time as her, with my eyes closed.
“So, you know my story. Now it’s your turn.”
Brooke shrugged one slender shoulder and picked at the blanket with her pale yellow fingernails. I looked to her toes and saw they were painted in a matching shade. At first glance, everything about this girl screamed high maintenance. Yet, here she sat on my bed, eating pizza out of a box, drinking tequila shots and seemed to be perfectly comfortable doing it.
“There’s not much to tell. I grew up here with Gram. My mom was only sixteen when I was born and was too young to handle raising a kid. She comes and goes, but mostly goes. I went to cosmetology school after high school, and I do hair at Loraine’s Luscious Locks.” She winced as she said that last part. “I hate that name. Luscious is such a weird word.”
I laughed. “Do you like what you do?”
“Yeah, I really do. I’m good at it. I like making people feel good about themselves. It’s not brain surgery, but I like it.”
“You don’t have to save lives to be doing something important. I’m sure a good haircut can do more for a woman’s self-esteem than twenty sessions with a psychiatrist.”
“That’s probably true,” Brooke said, tilting her head to the side as she studied me.
“What?” I asked, thinking I must have pizza sauce smeared on my face or something.
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you gay?”
“What?” I repeated. This conversation was not going where I thought it would.
“It’s just that you’re so…nice. And you seem to really understand women.”
I snorted. “I assure you, Brooke, I am not gay. And I absolutely do not understand women. Your species is a complex and unsolvable mystery to me.”
She giggled and reached for the tequila bottle again. When we both had our shots in han
d, she held hers up. “To new friends.”
I clinked my glass against hers. “To new friends.”
That’s the last thing I have any clear memory of…
The sun was streaming through the window. I could see the glow through my closed eyelids, which were stuck to my eyeballs. Shit, I fell asleep with my contacts in. I moved my head to the side as I tried to pry my dry eyes open. That was a mistake. The pounding pain behind my forehead had me freezing in place.
I blinked my eyes and stared at the ceiling. What happened? I tried to move, but something was holding me down. Glancing down, I saw a curtain of red hair draped over my chest. My naked chest.
Oh, fuck.
I lifted the sheet covering us and quickly lowered it when I saw that the rest of me was naked as well. Now that all my senses were waking up, I could feel that Brooke was naked too, and draped across me. I closed my eyes and opened them again, hoping this was just a dream. A really good dream. Because in reality, this would be very bad.
Nope, it’s real.
I tried to remember what happened. Not that I couldn’t deduce what happened, but the last thing I could remember was laughing and doing more shots with Brooke. I couldn’t remember making a move on her, or anything about what happened between us.
Shit, shit, shit.
Feeling like a first class asshole for taking advantage of her, I rubbed my hands over my face. Her breathing was still deep and even, and I took a moment to watch her sleeping. Dark eyelashes cast shadows on her high cheekbones. Her skin was smooth and tan, which was unusual for a natural redhead, with just a few freckles dashed over her nose. She looked peaceful, and one hand was curled on my stomach.
Christ, I had to get out of this bed before I forgot I was supposed to be the nice guy. Very carefully I shifted out from under her and quietly eased off the bed. Brooke sighed and curled up on her side with her hands under her face.
Well, first things first. I needed to take a piss and find some Advil for my pounding head. Then I would wait for her to wake up so I could somehow try to fix this. When I went into the bathroom, another thought popped into my head. If I was drunk enough not to remember having sex with possibly the hottest girl I’d ever seen, then I’m sure I was drunk enough to forget a condom. Godammit, could I be any stupider?
Bad Girlfriend Page 3