Let Me Love You: Beautifully Broken Book 1

by Samantha Wolfe

  I crossed the room and stopped in front of her, enjoying the flush creeping into her cheeks as she stared at my chest. Her lips parted, and her eyes closed in anticipation as I leaned into her. I picked my shirt up off the couch and straightened. Her eyes opened, and her blush deepened when she realized I hadn't intended to kiss her at all. I grinned at her reaction. Her answering glare made me laugh, and I kissed her anyway.

  I meant only to give her a quick peck, but when our lips met and her hands started sliding up the bare skin of my belly; I lost control. I dropped my shirt and threw my boots to the side then pulled her against me as my tongue pushed into her mouth, my hands moving down to grip her perfect ass and press my groin into hers. She made the sweetest moan into my mouth, and I growled in response, grinding her harder against me. Her hands skated around to my back, her fingers sending shivers up my body. With a sigh, I reluctantly broke the kiss, realizing we were never going to leave if we kept this up. Her heavy breathing and swollen lips were a distraction as she watched me pick up my shirt again and pull it on over my head.

  "I just need to use the bathroom," she finally said as I sat down on the sofa and put my socks on.

  "First door on the left." I pointed to the hall. I stared helplessly at her wagging backside as she crossed the room and disappeared around the corner. God, she made me feel like a sex-starved teenager. I shook my head to break the spell and finished putting on my boots.

  My thoughts turned to Annie and what I had done to her. I was going to have to apologize, but part of me feared I'd just hurt her again. I'd need to talk to my mom, too. Upsetting both had not been my intention, but it seemed whenever I was around them, I turned into someone I didn't even like. The shame and guilt swamped me, and I shoved it back down again. Right now, with Sydney, I was in this perfect bubble where the past didn't matter. She made me feel real again, like maybe I would be okay. I didn't want to mess that up with my bullshit. I needed this escape, and I wasn't about to ruin it. I had to keep her separate from the bad parts of my life, and I just couldn't bring myself to deal with my family again today. Tomorrow was soon enough.

  I heard the bathroom door ease open and Sydney walked out into the room. She had smoothed her mussed up hair, and it flowed down around her shoulders in a cascade. She was gorgeous and it practically struck me breathless every time I saw her. I stood with a grin, I was sure looked idiotic, and was across the room to her before I realized what I was doing. I stopped myself before sweeping her up into my arms, not wanting to freak her out.

  "After you," I said instead, and waved my arm down the hall behind her with a flourish. She smiled and nodded. I followed her as she started down the steps. I reached up to grab my keys from a hook by the door. I paused with my hand over the Camaro's keys and decided to grab the truck keys on the next hook down instead. Maybe Sydney would let me stay with her tonight, and I'd need my truck for work tomorrow. It was probably wishful thinking, but a man could dream couldn't he? I trailed her down the stairs into the garage and tapped the door opener on my way through the doorway.

  "Let's take the truck," I said as Sydney stopped by the Camaro's passenger door. "It might rain later," I explained, not really knowing if that was even true.

  "Okay," she said without questioning me. "Can I get my purse out of the Camaro?"

  "Help yourself."

  She opened the door, and I enjoyed the view as she leaned down into the car. All too soon she stood up with her purse in one hand and my phone in the other. She held it up to me over the top of the passenger door.

  "Missing something?" she asked. I reached out and took it from her, purposefully brushing my fingers across hers.

  "I've been too distracted to notice," I answered in a low voice that made her eyes darken with desire. I loved the effect I had on her. My hand came up to caress the side of her cheek, and she closed her eyes and tilted her head into my touch. Her sweet lips parted, and I stared at them helplessly. Damn, I wanted her again, wanted to press her up against the side of the Camaro and fuck her senseless, but I didn't want her thinking that was all I wanted from her. I reined myself in with a shuddering breath and released my hand from her cheek before things got out of hand. Her disappointed sigh as I stepped away was nearly my undoing.

  She closed the car door, and I took her hand as we walked to my truck. I opened the passenger door for her and helped her climb up into the seat as an excuse to keep touching her. When she was seated, I closed the door and walked around the back of the vehicle to give myself a moment to readjust the growing bulge in my jeans before climbing into the driver's seat. It was going to be a long drive back to Sydney's place.

  The sun was just starting to set as I pulled into the parking lot of Sydney's apartment building. The lot was pretty full, and I ended up parking a fair distance away. We got out of the truck and walked hand in hand across the lot, the warmth of her hand a welcome connection to her. Sydney jerked to a halt with a sudden gasp as we walked past her little black Civic.

  "What?" I asked as I looked over her shoulder toward her car and gaped in shock. Across the hood of the car was the word "whore" etched in jagged lines through the paint.

  "What the fuck?!" Sydney shrieked in anger, her hands flying up to her face. I stared at the damage, my own rage surging to the surface, and clenched my jaw so hard I was surprised my teeth didn't crack. I immediately scanned the area and saw no one nearby. My attention returned to Sydney as she let loose a tirade of obscenities, that under different circumstances, I would have found amusing. She paced back and forth in front of her vehicle with clenched fists, eyes flashing with her ire.

  My anger was an entirely different animal. It was a quiet rage that uncoiled inside me like a snake, as I watched Sydney rant. I could feel it burning across my skin like liquid heat. My hands curled into fists, and I could feel them shaking, itching to get my hands on who was most likely responsible for this. Sydney finally trailed off and turned to me. Her eyes widened as she looked at my face, and she took a step backward.

  "Where does he live?" I asked her, my voice low and dangerous.

  "What?" she asked in sudden confusion.

  "Clay," I clarified. "Where does he live?"

  "Why do you want to know...?" Her voice trailed off as comprehension hit her. "That son of a bitch!" She shouted and started cursing and pacing again.

  "Sydney." I spoke her name firmly, and her head snapped back toward me.

  "I'm not telling you that," she said with exasperation. "You can't just go and beat him up, as good as that sounds. You'll end up in jail." She didn't realize that wasn't a deterrent for me at all, but I didn't want to turn her anger on me. That, I wanted to avoid. With a deep ragged breath, I struggled to let the anger go. "What am I going to do?! I can't drive this to work tomorrow!" she said as she suddenly stopped and stared at the hood again, her hands running through her hair. Tears were starting to fall down her cheeks now and my anger just evaporated.

  "Hey," I said gently and went to her. She met my gaze, and the anguish in her eyes pierced me. I took her face in my hands and wiped a tear away with my thumb. "I can take care of this."

  "How?"

  "My friend Andy's family owns Purcell Auto. It's where I got my Camaro painted. I can take you to work tomorrow and then get your hood fixed for you," I explained.

  "You'd do that for me?" She sounded incredulous. She really had no idea what I'd be willing to do for her. That thought should have scared the shit out of me, but oddly it didn't.

  "Of course." This was partly my fault. I'm glad I had been there to protect her, but my presence had escalated the situation. Doing this would assuage some of my guilt. Besides, I wanted to help her, needed to help her.

  "Okay," she whispered in acceptance.

  "Come on." I pulled her into an embrace. "Let's go to your apartment and forget about this for a while. Alright?" I felt her nod against my chest as I stared over her head at the car's hood and the ugly word written across it. I wouldn't be forgetting abo
ut this, a flash of anger flared through me again, not at all.

  Sydney had calmed by the time we reached her apartment. I was beginning to see that she was not the kind of woman to let something keep her down for long. After what she had confessed to me earlier about her past, it was amazing to me how well she handled herself. It gave me hope.

  I followed her into her apartment and watched her put her purse on the kitchen table as she sighed. She walked into the kitchen area to our left, opened the refrigerator, and peered inside. I looked around the room again. The apartment had an open floor plan with a living area to my right, the kitchen table in the center, and flowing into a breakfast bar separating the kitchen from the rest of the room. White dominated the space with flashes of bright colors scattered around the room. It suited Sydney well.

  I moved to the breakfast bar and took a seat on a bar stool there, giving me a perfect view of her incredible ass over the counter top. She spent a few moments, bent over, looking inside. I put an elbow on the counter, rested my chin in my palm, and continued enjoying the view. I smiled unabashedly when she finally looked back to see me watching her. She rolled her eyes as she straightened and turned to me.

  "Do you like chicken?" she asked with amusement sparkling in her beautiful gray eyes.

  "Who doesn't?" I said, unable to take my eyes off of her, picturing her wearing only an apron again in my mind. "I'll eat whatever you make. I'm not picky."

  "Chicken it is," she said and began grabbing stuff out of the refrigerator. She paused after a moment and turned to me.

  "Do you think I should call the police about my car?" she asked with a pained look on her face.

  "Does the building have video surveillance on the parking lot?" I asked.

  "Not that I've ever noticed."

  "Then I don't know if they can do anything. It's not like you have proof it was Clay," I said his name with disdain. I wanted to punch him again. Feeling his nose break under my fist felt good, really good.

  "I don't understand why he would do such a thing," she said with a shake of her head. "He was the one cheating on me!" Her voice rose in anger again.

  "Don't worry. I'll get it fixed and it'll look like it never happened," I reassured her. I hoped that would be the end of it, but I had seen the look on that asshole's face before he left. I was afraid he was just getting started, but I didn't want to needlessly worry Sydney about it, in case I was wrong.

  "Alright," she sighed deeply with a frown and went back to preparing dinner.

  "Tell you what, I'll call Andy now and make sure it's taken care of first thing tomorrow." I pulled my phone out of my pocket and realized it was still off. I hit the power button and laid it on the counter to wait for it to power up.

  "I really appreciate you helping me with this." She turned and gave me a grateful smile.

  "I'm glad to do it." I smiled back at her. "I feel partly responsible. He may not have done this if I hadn't punched him."

  "I'm glad you did," she replied with an evil glint in her eyes.

  I picked up my phone again as the screen came up. I noticed multiple missed call notifications from Mom and Annie. Damn, I needed to call Mom and waiting until tomorrow didn't feel right anymore. I needed to apologize to Annie too, but that would take more than a call to fix. That could wait until tomorrow.

  "I'm going to go out in the hall and call my mom," I told Sydney. "Then I'll call Andy."

  "That's fine. Take your time," she said giving me a sympathetic smile.

  I left her working in the kitchen and walked into the empty hall way, shutting the door behind me. I turned right and stopped at the end of the hall next to a window that faced out over the parking lot. Sydney's car was just barely visible in the fading sunlight outside, and fortunately I couldn't see the damage on the hood from up here. My anger spiked again, and I decided to call Andy first. I needed to calm down before I called Mom. I scrolled to his number and hit the call button. He answered on the first ring.

  "You've got less than an hour and a half until the zombie smorgasbord begins," Andy announced. "I hope you're hungry."

  "Sorry to disappoint you, dude, but I'm gonna take a rain check on the zombies," I replied with a laugh. Andy's infectious humor never failed to calm me down.

  "Philistine," he said in mock offense. "You've never appreciated the intellectual nuances of the undead."

  "I guess I'll just have to learn to live with my ignorance." I laughed again and cut to the chase. "Hey, I've got a huge favor to ask."

  "Really?" she asked with interest. "Would that mean you'd owe me one?"

  "Sure," I answered. "If that's what it takes." God only knew what he would ask me for, but we'd been friends for practically our entire lives, so I would do whatever he asked.

  "A friend of mine had the hood of her car vandalized. I was hoping you could pull some strings at the garage and get it taken care of tomorrow." I winced as I realized I had used the pronoun "her," knowing he would pounce on that like a starving animal.

  "You've met a girl, haven't you?" he asked with an incredulous tone. "What's her name, what does she look like, did you do her?" he rattled off in one breath. I sighed and shook my head, knowing he wouldn't let this go until he got some details out of me.

  "Her name is Sydney; she's gorgeous, and that's none of your business," I answered him reluctantly.

  "Holy shit! You totally got laid, didn't you?!"

  I covered my eyes with my free hand and sighed. "Come on, dude. Give me a break."

  "Ah, ha!" he shouted. "You didn't deny it."

  "Remind me why I'm friends with you again?"

  "Because I'm fucking awesome!" he explained. "And think about how boring your life would be if you had never met me."

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah," I admitted. "Can you help me or not?"

  "Of course, I can," he said. "Just drop the keys off in the morning, and I'll send a couple of the guys to go get the car."

  "Thanks, man. You have no idea how much I appreciate this."

  "You really like this girl, don't you?" he asked quietly, his tone finally serious.

  "I..." I started denying it, but couldn't do it. "Yeah, I really do."

  "Good. You need someone to care about."

  It was the first time he insinuated that he knew how much I was struggling. His unexpected words filled me with shame over how little I had seen of him recently. I owed him more than that after our years of friendship. Just another way I had let down someone I cared about, but dealing with others was a constant struggle since the accident. Avoidance was easier. The way other people just got to go on with their lives like nothing happened, made me angry and resentful. It was an ugly way to feel, and I hated it.

  "I'll bring the key to you tomorrow morning." I changed the subject, not willing to talk about it.

  "I'll be there," he replied without pushing further. I felt grateful that he let it go. I ended the call and stared out the window for a moment, trying to gather my courage for the next phone call. I finally just hit the call button and held my breath. It rang twice.

  "Hello?" My mother's voice spoke on the other end of the line. She sounded tired.

  "Mom," I answered. "It's me."

  "Jensen! Oh, thank God," he exclaimed. "I've been worried sick about you."

  "I'm sorry about worrying you." I sighed. "And I'm sorry about dinner, too."

  "It's alright, honey. I shouldn't have suggested selling Hugo's car," she said softly. "I know how much all the cars mean to you."

  Her immediate forgiveness destroyed me. I leaned against the wall behind me and let myself slide down to the floor with my knees up in front of me. I didn't deserve it, not at all. After everything I had taken from her, she still loved me and forgave me so easily. How could she do that? I desperately fought the tears that threatened to spill.

  "Jensen? Are you still there?" she asked after a long stretch of silence. I pulled myself together with a deep breath.

  "Yeah. I'm here, Mom."

  "I hop
e you're not still angry with me," she said with concern in her tone. "We don't have to do anything with the Corvette if you don't want to." She thought I was angry with her? I just wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear.

  "Mom, I'm not mad at you at all," I said, my voice starting to break with emotion. I wrestled myself back under control, not wanting to burden her with my problems. "I gotta go, but I'll come see you tomorrow if I can. Okay?"

  "Are you alright, honey?" she asked, hearing the emotion in my voice that I was trying so hard to suppress. God, I was so tired of being asked that. I ran a hand down my face as I stifled my anger.

  "I'm fine. I have to go."

  "I love you, sweetheart." Her words ripped me apart. I didn't deserve her love.

  "Love you, too," I whispered and ended the call.

  I closed my eyes and covered my face with my hands, feeling wetness from the few stray tears that had fallen from my eyes. My phone slipped from my fingers and fell to the carpet with a dull thump. The strong smell of gasoline suddenly filled my nose, and I could hear Jordan's voice calling my name.

  "Jen?" His voice called me back to consciousness. I knew it was Jordan; he was the only person who got away with calling me that. "Jen, wake up."

  I awoke to find myself slumped in the Chevelle's driver's seat with the pungent smell of gasoline burning my nose. My head hurt, so bad, that I reached up to the right side of my head. I felt wetness there. When I pulled my hand away and looked at it, it was covered in blood. My mind recoiled at the sight in confusion.

  "Jensen!"

  I jerked and turned my head to the right to find Jordan looking at me. He was pale and ashen with blood pouring from his mouth. His dark eyes pierced into me, and I remembered where we were.

  "Jen, you have to call for help," Jordan whispered between ragged breathes. "Where's your phone?"

  I looked around what was left of the vehicle. The passenger side was caved in with Jordan pushed up against me. My side of the Chevelle was relatively intact and there were bits of branches and leaves everywhere. I felt through my pockets and found nothing.