Wreck You

by Jennifer Snyder

  “I am.” I nodded. My words couldn’t be truer. To only have to wake up and head into work would be amazing. I didn’t know how he’d worked on jobs and handled all the office stuff on his own for so long.

  “It’s just to answer the phone and stuff,” my mom said. It sounded as though it were a reminder for her and not an actual statement to anyone in particular.

  She was worried he was going back too soon; the fear had been in her eyes since she’d first heard the doctor give my father a clean bill of health.

  “I know. I’ll do nothing more,” my father agreed. “Promise.”

  He reached across the table for my mother’s hand, and I felt my chest swell with emotion. My father had mentioned earlier tonight that he was ready for things to go back to normal, but I knew right then that nothing about my family would ever be the way it was before my father’s heart attack. We’d never had Sunday dinners with the entire family present before, and the three of us kids never called to check in with our parents more than once a week if we could avoid it. We were closer now though. My entire family had become tight-knit, and I loved it.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  LAUREN

  “Grab that other tub from in the storage room, please,” Paige said.

  I folded the sundress I’d just taken off the rack and set it in the pile we were stowing away for next year’s summer season. “The one with the sweater dresses in it? I think that’s the only one left.”

  It was the last week of August already. Paige’s Closet had had its first end of summer sale, and we were already busting out the fall attire. Some would say it was too early, considering it was still eighty-six outside, but Paige was positive people would be ready to purchase jeans and cute sweater dresses already. Her theory was to put all the summer stuff up, except for two racks near the front windows with large signs on the tops stating “Clearance” in bold letters with neon backgrounds. She thought it would draw in more customers than ever. She also planned to put out all of our best fall stuff and kick the price down a bit so customers would be inclined to buy it as an introductory price for fall.

  It sounded like a good theory to me, but I knew she wasn’t the one to come up with the plan. Cameron was. Even though he had tattoos and a bad boy attitude, he was smarter than anyone I’d ever met when it came to marketing.

  Paige tilted her head to the side. “Really? I could have sworn there was one more with jeans in there somewhere.”

  Glancing around the tiny storage room jam packed with items waiting to be sold, I found one more brown-lidded tub shoved into the back. Paige had taken it upon herself to organize the seasons of items by color-coordinated plastic tubs. This idea had come from me as sort of a sarcastic joke, but she’d seen it as a goldmine. Her thoughts were we could save so much time if everything was well organized by color—all the spring clothes were in green-lidded tubs, summer in orange, fall in brown, and winter in blue. It looked like a bag of Skittles threw up in there sometimes.

  “You’re right. There’s one more in here. Hold on.” I gripped the edges and pulled. It popped out from under everything that had been resting on top of it, sending me backward into the wall. I busted my elbow. “Shit!”

  “Are you all right?” Paige shouted. I could hear her flip-flops slapping against the bottoms of her feet as she rushed to me. “What was that?”

  “I’m fine,” I bit out. “The stupid thing was stuck. When it came out, I fell back and busted my damn elbow.”

  The numb, painful sensation when you hit your elbow pulsated through my arm and into my fingertips. Whoever it was that coined the elbow with the nickname funny bone needed to be shot. There was not a shitting thing funny about hitting that damn bone.

  “Yikes.” Paige grimaced. She squeezed past me into the room and picked up the tub. “You can go if you want. There’s only this one left. I can handle it. Go home and put some ice on that elbow.”

  “No, I’m fine,” I muttered, following her out of the storage room.

  “Suit yourself.” She set the tub in the center of the shop floor. “Do you and Ian have plans tonight?”

  It was Saturday. Of course we had plans. Since the night we watched World War Z and bonded over zombie theories, we’d been nearly inseparable.

  “Yeah, sort of. We’re just staying in and watching movies,” I said.

  “Again?”

  “Yes, again. What’s so wrong with that?”

  Paige shook her head and flashed me a small smile. It was the type of smile you give someone when you’re struggling desperately to not let the real ear-to-ear one out. “Nothing. I just think the two of you have been spending an awful lot of time together lately for not being an item.”

  Rolling my eyes, I pulled a pair of corduroy jeans out of the tub. I’d made the mistake of arguing with her the other day about whether Ian and I were a couple. It wasn’t that I had a fear of commitment and couldn’t see what was right in front of my face; it was more along the lines of I was nervous to be the first to label it as something. I’d never had to before. With Jimmy, we were straight up about what it was we were doing—sex and nothing more—just like with the handful of guys I’d been with before him.

  I was the booty call girl. The friends with benefits type. The no strings attached sort.

  My hands clammed up at the thought of being anything more. The reality of that notion hadn’t hit me with its full effect until Paige had pointed out that Ian and I were practically a couple now. She’d then proceeded to ask if we had sealed the deal yet in not so many words. I’d clammed up and told her we weren’t like that. We were just friends.

  She’d seen right through my words, though—same as Blaire and Eva had.

  At first, Ian and I hadn’t slept together because of my attempt at turning a new leaf, but now, it was just because we hadn’t. He hadn’t made a move to since I’d shot him down hardcore, and I thought maybe it was for the best. I wasn’t the type of girl he deserved. I wasn’t someone you would bring home to meet your parents. I was fun and that was it. That was the way it had always been.

  But not with Ian. With Ian I wasn’t just that type of girl. I was more than that. I was a friend, and that’s where I wanted to stay regardless of how much I wanted him. His friendship meant so much to me.

  “We’re friends. Friends spend time together. End of story,” I shot back at her.

  Paige grinned. “Fine, whatever you say.”

  We finished putting out the rest of the contents in the tub and locked the shop up.

  “Have fun with your non-boyfriend tonight,” Paige said as we walked to our cars.

  “You’re so mature,” I muttered.

  Paige laughed and climbed into her Honda Civic. I opened my car door as my cell went off. It was a text from Paige.

  We never really grow up, Lauren. We only learn how to act in public. ;)

  Seriously? Pursing my lips together, I stared at her car as she backed out of her parking space. That line had to have come from Cameron. He was corrupting her, in ways that were hilarious.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  IAN

  Stopping in front of the flower section at Harrison’s, I skimmed over all the roses and baby’s breath until I found something that didn’t scream, “I love you.” A small bouquet of daisies in outrageous colors caught my eye. Food coloring. That had to be how they’d turned the petals green. While there were other colors tossed into the mix that could have been created naturally, the green stood out like a sore thumb and led me to believe the colors were anything but natural.

  My phone chimed with a new text. It was Lauren.

  When are you coming by? ~ Lauren

  I smiled at the screen, loving that she’d asked.

  I’ll be there in about twenty. Work went a little over.

  Not a complete lie. It had gone about ten minutes over. I just didn’t want her to know I was buying her flowers for no reason.

  All right. I’m gonna hop in the shower. I’ll leave you
a key under the mat for just in case, but I should be done by the time you get here. ~ Lauren

  Images of her lathering her body with that sweet-smelling soap she used flashed through my mind. I adjusted myself, not caring who saw, and replied.

  Okay, I’ll see you in a few.

  Practically jogging through the store, I grabbed a six-pack of beer, the wine I knew she liked, and a block of that baby Swiss cheese.

  I made it to her place in under twenty minutes. Knocking on her door, I prayed she wouldn’t answer so I could let myself in and possibly get a sneak peek at her in a towel. Footsteps on the other side of the door crushed that dream. I put the flowers behind my back.

  “Hey,” she said as she swung the door open for me to step inside. “What’s behind your back?”

  She was dressed in a black pair of spandex shorts—the kind women at Cardio Strong always wore—and a thin, pink tank top. Her hair was wrapped in a towel, and she didn’t have a trace of makeup on. This was the way I preferred her—beautifully natural.

  “Perceptive, aren’t you?” I smiled down at her. Without her heels or wedged sandals giving her added height, she barely came to my shoulder. I pulled the flowers from behind my back and handed them to her. “For you.”

  Her brown eyes widened, and her mouth opened to form this cute little O shape as she took them from me. “What are these for?”

  “Do I have to have a reason?”

  “Yeah.” Her eyes locked with mine. “That’s usually how it works, right?”

  I stepped past her and into the apartment. It smelled like her—a combination of her body wash and shampoo. “Nope. I didn’t have any specific reason in mind.”

  “So you bought me flowers for no reason?” She closed the door and walked past me, heading toward her kitchen.

  Was this a bad thing? Was she the kind of girl who hated getting flowers?

  “Yeah.” I shrugged and followed behind her. Setting the grocery bags on the counter, I leaned against it and stared at her.

  “And what made you think I was the type of girl who liked getting flowers?”

  I blinked. Was she being serious? Damn it, she must be the type who hated receiving them.

  “Nothing,” I muttered.

  I watched as she dug around in the cabinet underneath her sink for a vase. She was bent at the waist, her perfect heart-shaped ass front and center. It was all I could think about—even with the conversation we were having. I fought to hide the semi-wood forming in my shorts by kicking my legs out and crossing them at the ankles while I continued to lean against her countertop.

  “Well, I do, but only on certain occasions. Birthdays, Valentine’s Day, anniversaries, I guess would be cool too, but not just because. It’s weird.” She filled a vase with water. Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled at me. “But I’ll let you slide this once, because you didn’t know. Thank you. They’re beautiful.” She pulled the towel off her head, and gently dried her hair with it before setting it on the counter.

  My muscles relaxed. “Thank God, and if it helps at all, I can brainstorm with you to come up with a reason to celebrate.”

  “Oh, I’m sure we could come up with something good if we decided to, but it’s not necessary.” Her grin grew, letting me see those dimples that I loved so much.

  I chuckled as I unloaded the things I’d brought and made room for them in her fridge. “So what movie did you decide on for tonight?”

  “28 Days Later,” she said.

  “Another fast-moving zombie flick.” I popped the top on a beer and took a long swig.

  “You know that’s how I like them.” She stood on her tippy toes and attempted to reach a wineglass on the top shelf.

  “Where are the ones you can reach, short stuff?” I chuckled.

  Stepping behind her, I grabbed the glass from above her head. Catching a whiff of her apple-scented shampoo, I felt a jolt of excitement sweep through me. Damn, I wanted her.

  Brent had claimed it would never happen unless I made the first move, but what he didn’t know was that I already had made the first move and been shot down—rightfully so, but still. Wasn’t it supposed to be her move now? Maybe I needed to give her a little incentive to get things rolling.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  LAUREN

  Taking the glass from his fingers, I turned to face him. We were inches apart, neither one of us moving. I locked eyes with him, barely breathing. Dear God, I wanted him. I’d wanted him for weeks, but knew it couldn’t happen. Once it did, then the friendship we’d built would change to something else. Was I truly ready for that?

  Ian continued to glare at me, his green eyes smoldering with things I thought only I felt while in his presence. He was like an open book, but I didn’t want to turn the page. I was scared to see what would happen next between the two of us if I did.

  Swallowing hard, I cut my eyes away from his. “Where do you want to order from tonight? I didn’t go to the store for anything.”

  Our weekday dates were spent at the bar having a few drinks and playing pool or dinner out together, while our weekend dates consisted of a zombie movie, alcohol, and takeout. Maybe a little backward, but that was how it went.

  “Let’s go with some Chinese,” he mumbled. I didn’t have to look at him to know he was still staring at me. I could feel the heat of his gaze caress my skin.

  “Sounds good.” I squeezed past him. “I’m gonna blow dry my hair. Why don’t you call and order some delivery.”

  My knees wobbled as I walked away. I wasn’t the type of girl who normally felt crazed and weak-kneed when it came to a guy, but here I was, practically hiding out in my bathroom because the sexual tension between us was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  After I finished drying my hair, I applied some lip gloss and a smidge of eye shadow. If I did all my makeup now, he would think it was because of him. It would have been, but he didn’t need to know that. It was embarrassing somehow. I was off my game tonight for whatever reason. There was something dominating about Ian tonight, as if he was trying to push me over the edge and onto his penis. I could sense the sexual charge in the air.

  Maybe I should go with it.

  Rolling my shoulders, I decided I wouldn’t try to fight wherever this night was headed. I was Lauren fucking Myers. Fighting against having sex with someone I was into was so not me.

  A knock at my front door caught my attention, and I headed down the hall to answer it.

  “Dang, where did you order from?” I asked as I passed through the living room. “This guy deserves a fat tip for speed.”

  Opening the door while I fumbled to grab my wallet on the side table, I realized too late that it wasn’t the delivery guy. It was Jimmy.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I asked.

  My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my fingertips. My eyes trailed over him. He looked the same as when I’d left him standing in his mother’s kitchen in Greece. A tightness centered in my chest at this realization, and I felt my heart break all over again, because for whatever twisted reason, I’d missed him.

  “Lauren,” he whispered. His eyebrows drew together, and a sad expression swept across his face.

  My body tensed at the sound of his voice. What the fuck was he doing here? I’d left him in Greece weeks ago. Hell, nearly a month ago. I’d left him with his daughter and freaking fiancée, or whatever the hell she was.

  “I asked you a question.” I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes. The desire to hear his excuse for being here burned through me, intensifying my anger with him.

  “I needed to see you.” His tone sounded completely calculated. It was somewhere between I’m here to kiss your ass and please want me back as much as I want you.

  “Okay, well you did. Now goodbye.” Gripping the door tightly, I moved to close it in his face, but he stopped me.

  “No, wait,” he begged. “Please. I want you, Lauren. I need
you.”

  I shook my head. “You might want me, but you don’t need me. We both know that. I’m not the type of girl guys need, only the type their second head wants. You need to go back to your daughter in Greece, and figure out how to be a good father.” The truth of my words burned my throat as they flowed past my lips.

  “That’s not entirely true. We were good together, you and I,” he insisted, flashing me the sexy smile I’d seen his lips twist into a thousand times, the smile that used to bring me to my knees.

  “In bed, yes. As a couple, no. We were never a true couple, Jimmy.” As I said this, my mind compared all the differences between what Jimmy and I had, and what Ian and I have.

  “You’re right, but that doesn’t mean it has to stop. We can still have our little arrangement,” Jimmy insisted, reaching for me.

  Stepping back, I rubbed my forehead. “And how would Larissa feel about that?”

  “She wouldn’t know.” He flashed me another version of his sexy smile that always used to put me in the mood. It wasn’t working this time. Not at all. In fact, it sort of turned my stomach.

  “Okay, okay,” Ian said from directly behind me. He’d stepped extremely close without me noticing, but now that I did, I could feel the heat of his presence pressed against my back. “Look, she obviously doesn’t want you back, especially not for some midnight booty call. From what I’ve heard, you have a family back home. You need to finish whatever business it is that brought you back into the country, and then head home to them.”

  Watching Ian speak plainly and directly to Jimmy, I was able to focus on how commanding he sounded without appearing like an arrogant ass. This was a feat I’d never witnessed the male population do—unless it was on TV. Ian appeared calm and collected, even though I was sure seeing my ex at my doorstep, professing his undying desire to hop in the sack with me again, had to be something that pissed him off.