by Claire Adams
“And, who is this young lady? Have you already found your Los Angeles starlet?”
“Actually, this beautiful woman is my girlfriend, Cassidy Conrad.”
“Cassidy, what’s it like to date one of the most eligible bachelors in Los Angeles?” the reporter asked.
I couldn’t help but laugh at the idea that I was one of the most eligible bachelors. It wasn’t a title that I ever knew I had. Cassidy did great and kept a straight face through her interview.
“Erik and I started our relationship as all great ones start: as friends. I’m lucky to have such an amazing man in my life.”
“Are you in the film industry, too?”
I could tell that Cassidy was about to say no, and I didn’t want her to throw this opportunity away.
“She is going to be in one of our upcoming movies. We couldn’t let this kind of talent go to waste. We better keep going. I’m sure they’ve started the film without us by now.”
I pulled her away, and we caught up to my father and Heath. Spencer had also just finished an interview and we all made our way in together. In that moment, I realized that it didn’t matter what everyone thought of the film. I was happy. Cassidy was happy. My father and my brother were with me and that moment was one of the best I could have ever dreamt of.
I was in business with my best friend and if this movie sucked, we would fix what we did wrong and move forward with the next thing. Nothing was going to hold me back from having the life I always wanted.
As my brother, father, and Spencer went into the theater, I held onto Cassidy’s hand for a minute. I was overcome with emotion and there was something I needed to say to her.
“I love you. I hope you know that I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“I know.” She laughed.
“Will you marry me? I don’t have a ring right now. But I’ll get you any ring you want. Just say that you’ll make me the happiest man alive and become my wife.”
She seemed pretty shocked that I had slid down on one knee as was asking her to be my wife. But it hadn’t happened overnight, and I knew she was the right one. I knew long before that moment and I wanted her to know it to.
“Yes,” she said with a sultry smile. “I’ll be your Mrs. Levy.”
“Yes!” I screamed as I grabbed her into my arms and hugged her.
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BROKEN BOX SET
THE COMPLETE BROKEN SERIES
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 Claire Adams
BROKEN #1
Chapter One
Natalie
“I don't think I can have another shot, Julie,” I yelled over the music.
All around me the thump, thump, thump of the bass was felt right in my bones. Why must they play the music so obscenely loud? Was it so that you forgot that you were in a normal world? You stayed because you didn't realize there was anything else out there? I suppose it appealed to the people who came there to dance. I wasn’t one of them. As I peered over, I judged them for their carefree nature as they sweated all over each other on the dance floor. A bar, especially a dance bar, was an illogical place to go to have a conversation, but they had cheap drinks, and there was enough eye candy to keep Julie happy. Julie needed her entertainment as well. My friend just giggled as she ordered us another round. There was no point in arguing with her. I was feeling dizzy, but I allowed it, as I only really came there to forget. Forgetting was easy when it came to drinking. If it wasn't for hard liquor, I would not be able to function as a human being, and that was fairly important. All I needed at that moment was to forget that I was who I was. Because at that moment in my life, I didn't like whom I was.
Partying had become a regular occurrence for me these past few months. I was never much of a drinker, but times were tough, and a girl had to do what a girl had to do. Thank God I had a partner in crime in which to do my deeds with. I had only even known Julie for a couple of months, and she had seen me as the party girl, and only that. She had no idea that I was a good girl only a few months ago. The old me would never have spent so much time in a bar. But there I was, and the reason for that was because my whole life, my whole world in fact, had spun out of control recently, and I hadn't begun to pick up the pieces from that. Life, in fact, scared me at the moment. I had never expected to be in the position that I was. I had thought things would have turned out much better. I always had a plan; everything was in order in my life, until it all started to fall apart, of course. It was funny how life often snuck up on you like that. Not only had things not gone as planned, but it gave me an entirely different horizon that I didn't look forward to meeting.
Unbeknownst to me, the man I had loved most in the whole world had carried on an affair with my best friend for months before I found out about it. Months! Months! God, the very idea baffled me. How did I not know? Was I just blinded by my love for him? Finding them out―it was not something that anyone should ever have to experience. The betrayal of a best friend. You almost expect it from a man, but not a girl you grew up with from the time you were 9 years old. Men were always the ones whom you feared would stray. It never occurred to me to not trust a beloved best friend. She and I had been through thick and thin; we had shared many scraped knees, broken hearts, and provided one another with a shoulder to cry on when needed. And all it took was for her to become attracted to my man. A man I thought I would marry one day. Shouldn't that have been sacred―something no other should think of touching?
There truly was no amount of alcohol that could erase the image of catching them having sex. He had her bent over the couch, doing the unthinkable. I had walked in just as she had been screaming out his name. I could have killed them both right then and there. The shock had been incredible, and I felt ill every time I thought about it. Walking in early from class, excited to surprise him with pizza and beer, it had all dropped to the floor as I rushed in and saw him having sex with her on the couch. Right there, right where we often watched movies and cuddled, he had done the unspeakable with one of my oldest friends. I may have even been able to forgive it had it only been a one-time occurrence, but that wasn't the case at all. They were in love, and just didn't have the heart or the balls to tell me about it. They had been involved for months, right under my nose. I often wondered when it had first begun. Had he and I been going through problems at the time? What made him look at her in a different light? I thought about it a lot―too much, in fact. I wondered who had initiated it; which one of them crossed the line first? I couldn't bear to think that it was she who made the first move. The thought was just too evil; how could she betray me in such a way? Take away the only thing that really mattered to me. How could I not have seen? How do you miss something so significant?
There must have been lingering looks between them when they were around each other, text messages to his phone, and every time he wasn't with me, had he been with her? Had he been responding to her messages while he was with me? Surely he would have been. He received many texts in my presence. Who knows how many had arrived from her phone? There was nothing in the world that could make a girl feel more stupid than to realize I had been made a fool of for months. Did they often laugh about me? Joke about how I had no idea about what they were doing? Did they talk about me? Discuss how they would have to eventually tell me the truth? I could bet money on the fact that it was he who decided to avoid coming clean. Women were different, she would have wanted to lay claim to him as soon as possible. She must have been bugging him for quite some time to come clean, or at t
he very least, break up with me so that they could begin their own love story. Love Story. One that used to be mine. It was thoughts like that which could cause me to be in a bar on a regular basis.
After walking in on the two of them, I could do nothing but run out of the room crying; I didn't even have it in me to confront them. I should have, I should have clawed her eyes out, and left his body unidentifiable. I had heard my best friend call out my name as I left the apartment, as if the girl could possibly have anything to say to me at that point to ease the pain I was in. Though I wouldn't lie, the curiosity did kill me now, after the fact. I wondered what she intended to say. Sorry? You snooze, you lose? I love him? He doesn't want to be with you?
I did regret, however, the lack of hysterics I showed toward them. Thinking back on it, I should have allowed them to try to explain the disgusting show they had put on for me. To see what kind of excuses they would give me, what kind of fine, veiled apologies. In the end, however, it wouldn't have mattered. As far as I knew, they were still together; isn't love grand? I had hoped it would be a fling. That he would come back begging for another chance, so that I would have the opportunity to slap his face.
So insert booze, and I suddenly forgot how pathetic I must have been not to know that the two people I had trusted the most had been lying and running around on me behind my back. Maybe another shot was a good idea, the more I thought about it.
Julie and I sat at the bar in one of the more popular places in the area, and downed large amounts of alcohol. The bar was certainly a happenin' place if you were into picking up. I wasn't one to notice, however. I usually stared sullenly into my glass for most of the night. Poor Julie, she must think I'm an alcoholic.
When the shots arrived, Julie handed me one and raised it to toast. “What should we toast to?”
I snorted, “I know! Let's toast to becoming cat people, and watching old reruns of I Love Lucy together.”
“Screw that. Are you crazy? Natalie, you are gorgeous. Your ex was an idiot, and what he did was unconscionable, but you will find someone else―someone much better. Just wait and see.”
“I don't want anyone else. I loved him, and look how well that turned out. How could I possibly trust anyone ever again? I know what you're thinking, I'm being negative. But sometimes it's a good thing, really.”
“I don't think you will see any motivational posters saying that.”
I laughed despite myself. “I guess not.”
We downed the shots, and I cringed for the tenth time that night. I hated thinking about my past. It had just been so awful. When did it ever get easier, when did the pain lessen? When would I stop seeing that image of the two of them together? It was bad enough that I lost the man I loved, but losing my best friend at the same time had crushed me. I had never felt so alone in all my life. Three years I had been with him, and it all was thrown away, for nothing. What a waste, I thought. Three years of loving and caring for him, and I still had no idea why he did it. Why had I not been enough for him? I loved him, and had thought we had a really good sex life. What made him want her more than me? These were the questions that plagued me relentlessly until I lost the ability to sleep, lying awake just waiting for morning to come.
At first, I had tried to be productive about the breakup, being motivational, positive thinking at all times, mostly working on my homework and drawing whenever the mood struck me. I thought I could get lost in my art and forget my broken heart. Unfortunately, things never quite worked out that way. Instead, here I was, dangling off a bar stool with a girl who did not know how to stop ordering tequila.
“Should we do another shot?”
“Are you high? Absolutely not. I can barely see, and somehow I am still thinking about my ex-boyfriend. This isn't working. If alcohol can't make me forget, then what the hell are we doing out tonight? I need to forget him!” I noticed that Julie was looking around. “You're not even paying attention to my whining,” I laughed. “You should be listening to my whining; my heart is broken, for crying out loud.”
Julie smiled at me, finally focusing her attention back on me. “No, I wasn't ignoring you, Natalie. There is this ridiculously hot guy over there, checking you out.”
“Oh, give me a break.” What could he possibly be checking out? What friend of mine he could sleep with?
“Oh my God, it's Jet. He's totally checking you out.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Are you kidding me, Natalie? You don't know who Jet is?”
“Nope. Should I?”
“He's only one of the most popular guys on campus. All the girls have been drooling over him for years since he started dominating in MMA.”
“He’s a fighter? Jesus, Julie. You know athletes aren’t my type and in case you don't remember, up until a few months ago I had a boyfriend. That's who I have been drooling over. My boyfriend was so hot.”
I was pathetic.
“You still have eyes, don't you? How could you not have noticed him by now? You're crazy, girl.”
“Sorry, I'm just not someone who keeps up on that sort of thing. I could care less who the most popular guy on campus is.”
“He's a jock, and sexy as hell.”
“Well there you go, I'm an artist. I don't exactly keep up on the latest sports.”
“I don't care. Let's get another drink.”
Chapter Two
Jet
I had been watching this beauty for the better part of the night. I rarely did such a thing, but it was like watching a well-acted theatre performance, or better yet, a movie with a twist. You watched because you were just dying to know how it ended. I couldn't help myself. I had to watch her; she was absolutely stunning. Long red hair that cascaded in waves down her back, and the most gorgeous green eyes I had ever seen. She had alabaster skin that almost shone in the light, reminding me of the girls from those vampire movies, with skin that almost glowed. It made me want to touch her, trail my fingers down her skin just to see what it felt like. She was the perfect package, and I couldn't believe that she wasn't surrounded by men, vying for her attention. Were they crazy? Couldn't they see who was sitting there right before their eyes? It was madness. I had never seen anything quite like her before. She had a fit body, with the longest legs I had ever seen. She was wearing one of those club dresses girls always wear when they hit the town, and it hugged her body in a way that made me ache to pull down the zipper on her dress. They didn't make girls like that on campus. For the most part, they were all the same dimwits I’ve dated before. This girl, however, was very different, and I was liking different these days. I could tell by the way she carried herself that she had brains before beauty. She could hold a conversation, which is something a lot of the girls I know are unable to do.
She had been coming to the bar for a couple of months at that point, and I had always watched her carefully. The first time I saw her in this bar, I did a double take. Who could possibly forget that hair and those big green eyes? I don't think I ever will. She was exquisite in the way that made you want to know her mind, not just her body. She wasn't the kind of someone who came there to pick up guys, because I had never seen her leave with anyone―not in all the months she had been coming. Like I said, I was surprised that no one ever tried to pick her up, because she was beautiful. It could, however, have something to do with the fuck you she seemed to have etched into her forehead. She wasn't exactly giving off the friendliest vibe to guys. I didn't mind, however. I liked a challenge. I wasn't quite sure what I would have done if a guy had hit on her. I wanted her for myself, and I didn't like to share. Not a girl like that.
I wondered often as I sat watching her what it would be like when she smiled. She probably had a beautiful smile.
Surprisingly, I had never gone over to talk to her during any of her visits to the bar. I wasn't shy, no, that wasn't it. Girls were all over me frequently. I never had issues with meeting girls or striking up a conversation with one of them. I could have any girl I wanted, so that ha
d nothing to do with why I hadn't approached her. There was just something about her that I liked watching. I was in no hurry, but again, that could change if someone else entered the picture. I was not about to let someone else steal my thunder.
She was a puzzle―one that I hoped to unravel. She never did anything but sit at the bar with her friend, and drink. They never got up to dance or even scope out the room. That's how I knew she wasn't interested in picking up, because they never did laps around the room to check anyone out.
I normally would pick up a girl on the dance floor, and take her home to have sex with her. It was just so easy. When girls danced, they always danced suggestively, which made it easy for a guy to grind up against her. It wasn't long before I’d be making out with a girl and then running to catch a cab. It was like fishing with dynamite, picking up girls was so easy it almost bored me. That's why I found this girl so intriguing―mesmerizing even.
Guys never approached her because she gave off that wonderful “fuck you” vibe. That’s easily the deadliest vibe a girl can give off at a bar; she's pretty much guaranteeing a guy that she is going to shut him down before he can even say hi. Guys don't like rejection, not even the smallest bit.
I decided then that it was time to go talk to her, to see if she was just as interesting up close as she was from far away. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, one that I hoped I wouldn't regret. I strolled over casually, and sat on the bar stool on the other side of her. I waved to the bartender to bring me a drink. I looked over to find her friend was gaping at me, and I wasn't sure if I should let her know she could catch flies with a trap open that wide. The scene must have looked comical to someone else. Aside from the gaper, the redhead didn't even know I existed, even though I was inches away from her.