The XOXO New Adult Collection: 16 Full Length New Adult Stories

by Brina Courtney

  So what the fuck had happened between falling asleep together and waking up alone?

  I knew exactly what had happened.

  She'd bailed.

  I turned to leave the kitchen but stopped. There was nowhere to go. I glanced at the living room. Our empty beer bottles littered the top of the coffee table. I looked toward the bathroom and felt my pulse quicken as I remembered the time we'd spent together in the shower. I stole a quick glance toward my bedroom. More memories. Every single room would remind me of Gina. I couldn't even go outside, knowing I'd look at the shore and think only of her launching herself at me, kissing me, touching me.

  There was one room left, one room she hadn't been in, a room that held no trace of her.

  Jay's.

  A sharp pain stabbed at my gut. I couldn't bring myself to go in there. Not now. Not ever.

  So I stayed in the kitchen, the only neutral room in the house. And I thought some more about Gina and what had happened. Had I been some sort of one night stand for her? Like, she'd gotten drunk and realized she was horny and just needed to hook up?

  I dismissed that idea. Gina was professional, through and through. I thought back to the kiss in the driveway. She'd ripped me a new one for that and it had only been a kiss. She'd made it clear that we needed to maintain a professional relationship, and a professional relationship only.

  So maybe it was some sort of karmic payback for all the stupid shit I'd pulled with girls over the years. Maybe she'd been a little drunk and had gotten carried away and then regretted it in the morning. That would certainly explain why she'd left so early, without waking me up. And maybe this was the Universe's way of getting back at me for all the times I'd done that over the years. Girls whose names I couldn't remember, hotel rooms and apartments I'd slipped out of at the crack of dawn so that I could avoid awkward conversation.

  I shook my head. I'd always left a note. A text. I never just upped and left. But maybe it didn't matter. Maybe I'd left a string of chicks feeling the way I was feeling right at that moment.

  Pissed off and more than a little hurt.

  I'd wanted to wake up with Gina. I threw my head back and closed my eyes. There had been something between us, a different kind of spark. I knew what sex felt like. I pictured the night with Ch in the hotel room. And the other girl, the girl that had almost become a Kellen statistic at Duke's. I liked sex, being with women, finding the release. I'd never lied to any of them about what was happening or what I expected...or what the aftermath would be like. I was used to having sex just for the sake of having sex. It was what I'd gotten used to, what I expected.

  Sex with Gina was nothing like what I expected. It had been explosive. Mind blowing. And that didn't just happen because you were attracted to someone.

  There had to be more.

  And I thought there was.

  I closed my eyes and swallowed.

  But maybe she didn't.

  THIRTY THREE

  Kellen

  It was two weeks before I saw Gina again. Two fucking weeks.

  She wouldn't return my calls or texts the morning after we slept together. Or the next day. Or the day after that. On day four, I finally got pissed off enough to call Heath. I left a voicemail with him, telling him that he better find her and get her on the phone or all bets were off. True to his nature in worrying about me being his meal ticket, he got back to me forty-five minutes later.

  “Uh, she's not going to be working with you anymore,” he said over the phone.

  “What?”

  “You'll have a new rep,” he said quickly. “Some guy by the name of Trevor—”

  I cut him off. “I don't want Trevor. I want Gina.”

  “Well, she's apparently been reassigned to something else by her company.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Look, Kellen, that's what I was told. I think...”

  I didn't hear what he thought because I didn't give a shit. I hung up on him and called Bruce Wyckoff.

  “What the fuck is going on, Bruce?” I asked. “Why the hell am I getting some new publicity rep?”

  There was a slight pause, “I don't know, Kellen,” he finally said. “I just got a call about an hour ago. They said your rep was being moved to a different project. But they're assigning you their best guy for the next couple of weeks.”

  “I don't want their best guy,” I yelled. “I want her.”

  “Did something happen?” he asked. “Between the two of you? Was she pissed off at something you did? Because...”

  “She's not pissed off,” I said angrily. But that was a lie. I didn't know what the fuck she was feeling because she wouldn't return my calls. “But she won't call me back. I've done everything she asked, Bruce. Everything. And now she's...being assigned to something else? It's all bullshit. I wanna know why.”

  “I don't think you have a choice, bro,” Bruce said. “I'll see what I can find out. But the suspension still stands. This new guy they're putting with you should be there later today and he'll lay out—”

  “I'm not doing shit,” I said. “I'm not doing shit without her.”

  “Kellen, come on. You can't just...”

  “Watch me, Bruce,” I said. “I'm not doing shit.” I hung up.

  And for two weeks, I was true to my word.

  I didn't do shit.

  Trevor Raymond came to my house the same day I'd talked to Heath and Bruce. He apologized for having to take over for Gina, but assured me we'd be able to work just fine.

  I told him he could go fuck himself.

  He seemed ready for that, though, and I had to give him credit. He'd tried hard. He'd let me swear at him, give him the silent treatment, totally ignore him and he never lost his cool. He was pretty good.

  But I was angry. And hurt. I'd gone through every scenario in my head, everything I could think of to try and explain why she'd done what she did. And every time, I came up empty-handed. I was still no closer to figuring out what the hell had happened that morning, what had sent her scurrying off like some scared little mouse, than I had been two weeks ago.

  So I took it out on Trevor. I was an asshole. I'd alternate between chewing him out and giving him the silent treatment. And he just took it, calling me every day with events he had lined up for me.

  I refused to do any of them.

  No more public speaking.

  No more charity events.

  No more kids camps.

  Anything he said he was going to set up, I turned down. And he'd been patient, never showing me any anger, never getting on me, just calling the next day with the newest opportunity.

  “Kellen,” he said one day after two weeks of banging his head against a wall. It was late afternoon and he was sitting on my couch, a manila folder spread out on the coffee table. His brown hair was buzzed short; it looked like he'd just gone in to the barber that morning. “What's it gonna take to get you to work with me?”

  “The same thing I've been telling you for the past two weeks,” I said. “I want to talk to Gina. In person. Get me a conversation with her. Just one, in person. After that, I'll jump through any fucking hoop you hold out there.”

  “She can't...”

  “You asked what it was gonna take.” I stood up and made my way to the patio, leaving him in the living room. “That's it. That's what it's gonna take. Until then?” I shrugged. “We're just gonna keep repeating what we've been doing for two weeks, bro.”

  I left him then and headed out to the water, spending the next two hours taking out my frustration on the four foot swells just outside of my house.

  Trevor wasn't waiting for me when I finally got out of the water.

  But Gina was.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” she asked, her arms folded across her chest, her eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses.

  I felt my stomach jump but stayed calm as I unstrapped the velcro leash from my ankle.

  She was there. Two fucking weeks later and she was there. Back on the beach, ju
st a few steps from where we'd stood that night. And she was pissed.

  “Don't you mean good morning?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

  “It's the middle of the afternoon.”

  “Oh, I'm sorry,” I said, staring at her. “I thought we were picking up where we left off.”

  She stared at me for a long moment, a muscle in her jaw twitching. Finally, she said, “Fair enough.”

  “Is it?” I asked, running a hand over my face, shaking the water out of my hair. “Because I've got a few more if that one wasn't fair.”

  She spread her arms out wide. “Here I am. Take all the shots you want at me.”

  “No thanks,” I said, walking past her.

  “Then what the hell am I doing here, Kellen?”

  “Great fucking question, Gina. What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Trevor said the only way you would agree to do anything is if you could talk to me,” she said. “So here I am. Talk away.”

  I threw my board on the ground and spun back around toward her. “Why the fuck did you leave me? I woke up and there was nothing there but sheets. Then you won't call me back. Then I get Trevor. What the fuck is going on, Gina?”

  She started to say something, but I kept going.

  “You don't even give me the courtesy of a phone call. A note. Nothing. Wanna know something, sweetheart? I never stooped that low. Not ever.”

  She opened her mouth again but I wasn't finished.

  “And I don't for a minute believe any of this bullshit about you being assigned to another project. I know that's horseshit. So what is this? Some sort of fucked up attempt to give me a taste of my own medicine from back in the day?” I threw my hands up. “Explain it to me because I really don't get it.”

  She pushed her glasses up on her head. “You need to get on board with Trevor. He's got some—”

  “Fuck off,” I said, picking up my board and walking toward my house.

  “Kellen!”

  I ignored her and kept going, my feet hitting the sand so hard it hurt. I heard her huffing and puffing behind me as she tried to jog in the sand, but I didn't stop.

  “Listen to me,” she called.

  “Why?” I asked, still walking. “Did you have something to say? You haven't said shit for two weeks.”

  I reached my patio, stepped over the wall and set the board in the corner.

  “Stop,” she said, stepping over the wall and trying to catch her breath. “Just stop and listen.”

  I stood there, still wet from the ocean, staring at her.

  She took a deep breath. “I'm sorry.”

  “Well, that makes it all better. Thanks a lot.”

  She frowned. “Let me talk.” She waited, like she was trying to think of what to say. “I'm sorry. For leaving. And for not calling. I...I didn't know what to do.”

  I didn't know what I wanted to hear from her, but she wasn't making me feel any better.

  “I freaked out a little bit,” she said, sitting down on the wall. “Had nothing to do with you. It was me.”

  “That's original.”

  “That's the truth,” she said, glancing at me. “We were working together. Sleeping with you was wrong.”

  I bit my tongue.

  “Not wrong in that it wasn't great,” she said, her voice faltering a bit. “Because it was.” She paused, cleared her throat. “But wrong because it was unprofessional. I made a really, really bad decision and I couldn't take it back. There's no going back from something like that.”

  “Who said we had to go back?”

  She shook her head. “There's nowhere else for us to go, Kellen.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I took a deep breath. “Look, if we can't work together, we can't work together. I'll work with Trevor. No questions asked. I'll do whatever the hell he wants.”

  “Good.” She forced a smile. “I'm glad.”

  “But only if that means this silent treatment shit is over.” I stared hard at her. “Only if you tell me there's somewhere for this to go.”

  “What?”

  I swallowed. “I...I wanted you there when I woke up.”

  Her cheeks flushed. She didn't say anything.

  “And if you think I've ever said that to anyone before, you're wrong,” I said. “Not once have I ever wanted to wake up with someone next to me. But you were gone.” I chewed on my lip for a minute. It was harder than I thought it would be to tell her, to admit out loud that I'd wanted her there. And how disappointed I was when she was wasn't. “And then you just stonewalled me for two straight weeks. With no explanation.”

  She folded and unfolded her arms, trying to get comfortable. “I thought a clean break was best. Just step away and stay out of your way.”

  “Really.”

  “Yeah, really,” she said, irritated. “Look, I don't care if you believe me. I didn't think you'd listen. I knew you wouldn't listen. And our feelings were all screwed up. Working together wasn't possible after we slept together.”

  “Fine. You're fired.”

  “What??”

  I nodded. “You heard me. Fired. Now you don't work for me. Problem solved.”

  She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

  “Now will you talk to me?” I took a step toward her. “Because you still owe me a conversation.”

  “What?”

  I nodded. She was close enough to touch, close enough so I could smell that shampoo that drove me insane. “Uh-huh. That night? The night you want to forget? You never told me your story, Gina. And I want to know it.”

  She paled. “I...”

  “Fair is fair,” I said. “And you've kept me waiting for two weeks.”

  She took a step back and reached for her glasses, lowering them over her eyes. But she didn't do it quick enough because I saw what she was trying to hide.

  “I don't work for you anymore,” she said, her voice tight with tears. “And I don't owe you anything, Kellen Handler.”

  THIRTY FOUR

  Gina

  I closed the door to my car and exhaled. My hands were still shaking and tears streamed down my face. I wiped at them angrily, my fingers chafing against my skin.

  I hadn't wanted to go see him, but when Trevor called me for about the twentieth time, I'd finally caved.

  Big mistake.

  I'd stood on the beach for twenty minutes, watching him carve up the waves. The wild abandon and intense concentration as he maneuvered the board, the way his body morphed into an extension of the piece of fiberglass beneath his feet, moving in one fluid motion up and over the waves. He looked beautiful. Perfect.

  And he looked like Luke. Exactly like Luke.

  I didn't have a plan when I'd arrived at his house. I'd gone through a dozen different scenarios in my head, thinking about how the conversation with Kellen might go. But after seeing him in the water, I knew what I had to do. Cut the cord for good and get the hell out of there.

  Because I couldn't do it again. I couldn't love someone – and lose them – again. And I was dangerously close.

  I took a few deep breaths, trying to get myself under control. I needed to get the hell out of his driveway. I didn't think he'd come running after me; he'd been too pissed. I swallowed hard. More than pissed. I saw the hurt in his eyes, the disbelief. I'd been a heartless bitch and I hated myself for doing it.

  But I had to.

  It was a matter of self-preservation.

  THIRTY FIVE

  Kellen

  I downed my fifth shot of tequila.

  “Yo.”

  I looked up with glazed eyes. Carl stood behind the bar, drying a glass.

  “You need to slow down, man.” He glanced at the clock. “Night's early.”

  I turned my head toward the clock mounted on the wall and it was like I was moving in slow-motion. The numbers on the face were fuzzy and I squinted so I could read them. It was just past six. Two hours since Gina had left. Two hours since she'd basically told me to go fuc
k myself.

  So I did.

  I threw on a shirt, shoved my feet into my flips and walked three blocks to The Night Owl, the local dive bar. And started fucking myself.

  “I'm fine,” I told Carl. I pointed to the empty beer bottle next to me. “Gimme another one of those.”

  Carl frowned at me, his bushy brows drawing together so they looked like one long, furry caterpillar. “Slow it down, man,” he said, but he pushed another bottle in my direction.

  I reached for it and took a long swig.

  Fuck Gina Bellori.

  I didn't know what had gone on or why. And I didn't care anymore. I'd been a job to her. Nothing else. She'd gotten her orders. Fix me. Make me likeable, turn my reputation around. And she'd done it. Didn't mean she had to like me, didn't mean she had any feelings for me. And just because I was some fucked up guy looking for direction didn't mean she was gonna be the one to help me find it.

  It didn't matter that we'd hit it off, that there'd been a connection. Not just physical. We'd talked, joked around. I'd felt comfortable with her. And I'd really thought she believed in me.

  I grabbed the beer and guzzled it. She was a great fucking actress. She'd known exactly how to get me to do what she wanted. She needed to make me look good and she'd known exactly what buttons to push to get me to perform. I'd just been too stupid, too fucking vulnerable, to realize what she was doing.

  I let my thoughts drift back to the night on the beach. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the images but they came anyway. Her hands. Her mouth. What her body felt like beneath me, on top of me. The sounds she made, what she tasted like. I was hard just thinking about it.

  My eyes flew open and I downed the rest of my beer. Fuck that. I couldn't explain that away, couldn't figure out why she'd kissed me and come on to me and done all the things she did to me. But I didn't want to think about it anymore. I wasn't going to think about her or that night ever again.

  I scanned the bar. Another guy sat to my left, four stools down. A local guy, not someone I hung out with. I turned to the right. A petite brunette sat alone, nursing a beer. I stared at her for a minute. And then I made a decision.