Heartbreaker (Unbreakable #1)

by Kat Bastion

  Kiki Michaelson wants one wild night to forget her starving-artist worries. Simple.

  Only instead of Darren Cole becoming her one-night stand, he taunts her with a challenge. Then while she’s trying to best him at his own game, he turns out to be the last thing she’s prepared for: someone she wants to keep.

  Which means all he can ever be…is a friend.

  Darren Cole never allows a girl to get close—not close enough to matter.

  Then storms in Kiki Michaelson, a beautiful, fearless temptation that rocks his world off-balance. But he fights their attraction, unwilling to gamble something physical with their close ties. Until the passionate sculptor exposes her heart and breaks his wide open.

  In that moment it becomes clear: she could never be just a friend.

  Sometimes what you run from…is exactly what you need.

  Praise for

  “One of the best romantic comedies of the year!”

  ~ Agents of Romance

  “The No Weddings Series is one of the best I have read that follows one couple. Cade and Hannah are both lovable characters, the storyline is real and entertaining, and the banter is fun and witty.”

  ~ Lives & Breathes Book Blog

  “I loved it, and I mean REALLY loved it!”

  ~ Orchard Book Club

  “This is an exceptional series...You find yourself fully engrossed in their world and can’t put the book down.”

  ~ Books -n- Kisses

  “The No Weddings series has a group of such amazing characters; you can’t help but relate to them and feel the emotion in every situation they encounter. It has been a long time since a story has made me feel that way let alone an entire series!”

  ~ Under the Covers Book Blog

  “The story of Cade & Hannah’s relationship is realistic, heart-warming, and filled with real-world connections that shook me in a way that few titles I’ve read this year have managed...I have loved every minute of the No Weddings series.”

  ~ That’s What I’m Talking About

  Standalone Novel

  The Espionage Effect

  No Weddings Series

  No Weddings

  One Funeral

  Two Bar Mitzvahs

  Three Christmases

  For Valentine’s

  (a steamy nightcap novella)

  Highland Legends Series

  Forged in Dreams and Magick

  Bound by Wish and Mistletoe

  (a holiday novella)

  Born of Mist and Legend

  (future release)

  Found in Flame and Moonlight

  (future release)

  Romantic Poetry for Charity

  Utterly Loved

  Foreword by Sylvain Reynard

  In memory of our beloved brother.

  Jim, you are missed.

  Kiki…

  For a blessed few hours, I forgot.

  Loading Zone did that to me. The nightclub’s Industrial Grunge feel, which I’d helped design with its exposed brick and rusted steel, wrapped itself around me like a comfortable blanket. Heavy bass thumped, vibrating into my bones. My thighs burned from dancing back-to-back songs. Three lemon drop martinis in the last two hours hummed warmth through my veins.

  “C’mon,” my sister Kendall shouted above the loud music as she grasped my hand, then tugged me forward. “My toes are numb.”

  Out of breath, I nodded and we headed toward the corner booth the eight of us had crammed into earlier. I dance-walked in the narrow path through the crowd behind her, each step a hip shake and head toss to the pulsing rhythm.

  The moment we reached the table, our oldest sister, Kristen, pulled her husband from the booth. “Time for us to go. Jason has an early flight tomorrow.”

  Cade, our brother and silent partner of Loading Zone, guided his new wife, Hannah, out right after them. “Last dance, Mrs. Michaelson?”

  Which left Cade’s two best friends: the scruffy prodigy surfer Mase, his former roommate; and clean-cut businessman Ben, the other owner of Loading Zone. I slid over the black distressed leather before landing in the center of the wide, shallow booth to face the dance floor while Mase abandoned his spot on the opposite side to anchor the end next to me.

  I grasped the stem of my martini glass, sipped the last bit of the tart lemon drop, then let out a happy-buzz sigh. Being around these three—including rising-star architect Kendall—all of them with their shit together, lent some grounding yin to my artistic yang.

  “Sex on a stick, twelve o’clock,” Kendall announced.

  My heart suddenly slammed into my ribs. But I exhaled slowly, trying to hide my reaction.

  I’d been excited about tonight for several reasons: banish my secret problems from my head, surround myself with my favorite peeps, and Darren Cole.

  Ben snorted out laughter while Mase dropped me a deadpan look. “‘Sex on a stick’?”

  I shot Mase a sidelong glare and elbowed him in the ribs.

  He grunted and nudged my arm away.

  By the time I glanced up, corded forearms shot over the outer edge of the table. Large hands planted with a hard smack on the brushed metal tabletop. A familiar folded strip of paper skittered out from his fingers, sliding in a wide arc toward Ben.

  My breath caught as I stared into Darren’s dark green eyes. A lock of his shaggy black hair fell over his forehead as he tilted his face downward. He set his jaw, expression hardening, as a scuffle between four guys unfolded right behind him, the apparent cause of his sudden hand-plant. He gave me a piercing look. “Twenty minutes.”

  Then he turned and grasped the nearest offender by the scruff of his shirt. Security arrived an instant later and manhandled the others into submission.

  As Darren flexed his left arm while leading his guy toward the exit of the club, the tapered point of a tribal tattoo peeked out from the back collar of Darren’s black T-shirt. My imagination began to paint what lay hidden from view: thick black ink arcing across sculpted back muscles, a woven design that twisted downward toward his tight…

  “What’s that?” Kendall leaned over the table.

  I tore my gaze away from Darren and reached for the note, but Kendall snatched up the slip of paper first. She unfolded it and read its message aloud, “‘Gimme a ride? K.’”

  “Oh, sure.” Mase took a long pull from his beer, then swallowed. “Kendall gets to innuendo the fuck out of this, but I don’t?”

  Ben arched a brow. “Twenty minutes. That’s one helluva ride.”

  “Shut up. Both of you. Guys objectify women. We can do the same. And it’s a ride home, smartass.” I tried to shoot Ben an annoyed glare, but the corners of my mouth twitched into a smile and ruined the whole thing.

  “Suuure…a ride home.” Mase winked at me, then glanced over to where Darren strode along the edge of the room as he headed back toward his DJ booth. “I suppose he qualifies.”

  “Worthy of objectifying? Darren more than qualifies.” I pinched the message meant for Darren’s eyes only and ripped it from Kendall’s grasp. “He doesn’t say much,” I continued. “Leaves the club with different women. Built like the perfect male specimen…”

  Ben choked on his beer. “And what are we? Male rejects?”

  “Ewww.” Kendall scowled. “That’s incestuous.”

  “You’re like our brothers. Can’t even…” I scrunched my nose and blanked out my mind, willing myself not to visualize it.

  “Not looking for love?” Ben asked, tone softening.

  At that, all of our gazes drifted toward the dance floor. One of the last songs of the night streamed a fast tempo from the speakers, but in the center of a thinning crowd, Cade and Hannah stood obliv
ious. Wrapped together, they swayed to a slow rhythm only they seemed to hear. The look of adoration on their faces as they stared deep into each other’s eyes spoke volumes.

  “No,” I said with absolute conviction. “Heartache lies down that road.”

  Mase laid a gentle hand on mine. “As your pseudo-brother, I’m warning you: Be careful.”

  I had no idea whether he meant Darren specifically or men in general. It didn’t really matter. I’d learned my love lesson early. And I’d never trusted a guy enough to let one hurt me since.

  Darren? The only kind of guy I was willing to play with. A beautiful man I refused to form any attachment to—easy to leave.

  The quintessential heartbreaker.

  In Darren’s truck. Again. A vast awkward distance between us. Again.

  The drive took only about ten minutes. But the ride home from Loading Zone in Philly’s Old City Arts District to the outskirts of sleepy Glenhaven—the third since last summer—stretched eternal.

  Why? A hookup shouldn’t be this difficult.

  My gaze shifted toward him. Powerful hands gripped the steering wheel, thumbs knocking some unheard drumbeat into the silence of the cab. Sculpted forearms stretched up toward cut biceps that vanished under the thin black fabric of the T-shirt that hugged them. His expression was serious, but relaxed. As if he didn’t feel the weight of the moment like I did.

  Now or never, Kiki.

  I took a deep breath and ran a flattened hand over the gauzy material of my skirt, trying to calm myself. Then I inched closer to him, needing some sort of validation that whatever tenuous thing we had between us was moving toward something…fun…instead of away from it.

  Tonight didn’t have to be a big deal. He either wanted me or didn’t. Two other platonic drop-offs didn’t mean anything significant. Maybe he was shy. Or a gentleman.

  As we drove, yellow pools of light from wrought iron lampposts marked the passing time in a visual cadence. Light…dark. Light…dark. The streetlights soon began to feel like a countdown, as if they mocked me for just sitting passively in their spotlights.

  Yet how to breach the uncomfortable silence? My mind tumbled over the possibilities: How did your sound board glide tonight? Wow, how ’bout the heavy bass on that last song?

  He cleared his throat, beating me to it. “Sooo…talk to me. How’s the art going?”

  “Good.” Good? Really? I winced at my pathetic attempt at conversation.

  We made the second-to-last turn, my time running out, as he gave a single nod in reply.

  Buck up, Kiki. You either want him or you don’t. Stop being a pussy. “Actually, it’s a smaller sculpture. A single orchid sprouting from a rocky riverbed.”

  He glanced my way. “You work with metal, right?”

  “Yeah.” I leaned back, staring out the windshield, finally calming a bit as I thought about my art. “This piece is bronze. The lone color is the violet on the flower.”

  “Sounds cool.” His voice lowered. He cleared his throat again.

  Had he moved closer?

  Impossible. He was driving. Behind the steering wheel, as always.

  Yet our legs nearly touched. The rough denim, tight over his thigh, had slid over the tan leather seat to within an inch of my bared knee; he’d spread his legs wider.

  The man already consumed most of the space in the truck with his commanding presence. But instead of moving away, I automatically drew closer. My thundering pulse throbbed heavier, warmer…lower.

  I swallowed hard, attempting to find my way back to the conversation. “How did your night go?” Maybe his sound board was a medium for his art, like metal was for me.

  “Good.” The corner of his mouth twitched into a barely perceptible grin, then relaxed.

  He dropped his right hand from the steering wheel and floated it in the infinitesimal space between us. Gentle pressure rubbed through the flimsy fabric that covered my upper thigh.

  My gaze lowered from the dashboard at the exact moment the knuckle of his index finger trailed in slow motion up the skin under my hem.

  I held my breath.

  I haven’t been imagining things.

  But then his hand suddenly lifted and fisted. His expression hardened as he stared straight ahead. We made the final turn onto my street, and he eased off the gas, letting us coast. The ride I’d been waiting all night for—six long months and two failed attempts for—appeared to be over.

  We rolled to a stop in front of the white picket fence that surrounded the darling butter-yellow Victorian. Then he shifted the truck into park, letting it idle.

  Refusing to give up, especially when I sensed him struggling with an attraction we both knew was real, I made a final direct attempt. “You don’t have to drive right off. You could come in for a drink.”

  “No, I can’t.”

  “Why not?” The two words tripped out flippant in my pitiful effort to sound nonchalant.

  “You’re Cade’s little sister.”

  “No, I’m n—” I blinked.

  The pad of his finger pressed to my lips. Warm. Firm. Suddenly, I thought of nothing else. My whole world became our tantalizing first contact.

  He didn’t move. Simply stared at me.

  I closed my eyes. My head eased back against the headrest, but the contact remained as my lips pursed into the gentlest kiss against his fingertip. I wanted to flick my tongue out, taste him. But then he pulled away.

  I blinked my eyes open.

  He’d half-twisted on the seat toward me. “You deserve better than a one-night fuck, Kiki.”

  “What I deserve,” I muttered, then snorted.

  Damn right, I deserve better than that.

  But one night was all I could handle.

  “Doesn’t matter.” What I continued to tell myself. “What I want right now is you.” There, I’d said it. Out in the open. Bold and direct.

  “What you deserve does matter. Don’t ever forget it.” His voice hardened with every word. His dark brows furrowed to the point a deep crease marred the tanned skin between them.

  Without thinking, I reached up and pressed my thumb along that vertical line, massaging until his face began to relax.

  He stared at me with renewed intensity. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to get you to chill out.” I let my thumb slide a fraction to the right until I found a pressure point, then I spread the rest of my fingertips across the line of his eyebrow. “Is it working?”

  “No.” The corners of his mouth twitched again.

  “Liar.”

  “Okay. A little.”

  “Seriously, though,” I continued as if I hadn’t been distracted by his impressive scowl. “I’m an excellent one-night fuck.”

  He jerked his head away, then lapsed into a coughing fit.

  I arched a brow. “What? Don’t think so?”

  He shook his head. “No.” His mouth fell open. “I mean, I’m sure you are.” He blew out a heavy sigh, cheeks puffing from the effort. “You just…”

  “Unnerve you?”

  “Yes.” He thrust a splayed hand into the open air between us with the curt word. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  A smile began to curve my lips. “No, I’m just trying to—”

  “Don’t say it.”

  The word hung on the tip of my tongue. “You know I’m thinking it.”

  “Stop thinking it.” He took a measured breath, his chest gradually rising, then falling.

  Enjoying the loaded tension between us, I remained still, waiting.

  When he turned toward me again, I leaned closer and deeply inhaled his earthy scent. “Look. This doesn’t have to be complicated just because I’m Cade’s sister. You’re an adult. I’m an adult. Aren’t you attracted to me?”

  Every telltale sign he’d shown suggested that he wanted me. But I’d never encountered so much resistance in a guy before. Then again, I’d never had one in my sights so long before either. I ignored the implications in that.

&nb
sp; “Of course I am.” He draped an arm along the top of the seatback.

  His warmth lured me in, and I edged even closer until my entire side crushed against his. He made no move to stop me and didn’t flinch away, but his lengthy pause indicated that he resisted committing to anything.

  “All it has to be is one night,” I whispered, my lips nearly touching the warm skin of his neck.

  Another heavy sigh ruffled the hair above my ear, shooting chill bumps down my side. “You gotta know, if I could…I would. It is complicated. I can’t explain. But no matter how badly either of us want to, this can’t happen.”

  I blinked, confused and lost in uncharted territory. Never had a guy not taken the bait I’d offered. And he was being so nice about it. My mind couldn’t process what was happening. “You want me.”

  “Fuck, yes. I mean, no.” He growled in frustration. “Goddammit, Kiki. Just get out of the truck. Please.”

  I pulled away from him and straightened in my seat, almost laughing at the desperation in his tone. Then I dared a glance at him. His expression grew tortured. A tiny part of me felt bad for putting him in a position I didn’t understand. The rest of me beamed that I wasn’t the only sexually frustrated one in the vehicle.

  Not yet willing to admit defeat, I gave him a smile and grasped the cold metal door handle. “Thanks for the ride, Darren.”

  I wouldn’t ask for one again. But I didn’t need to. The seeds had been planted. My work was done. Either he wanted me enough to get past whatever obstacle was cock-blocking his way, or he didn’t.

  Meanwhile, I’d go back to the life I’d been trying to forget, once my mind-numbing buzz wore off.

  I wanted to glance over my shoulder as I unfastened the painted wooden gate, double-check to see if he was still watching, but I fought the urge.

  The low hum of his idling truck engine remained unchanged. But had his mind?

  This lonely girl can only hope.