“I forgot about that,” he said, smiling as his lips found the curve of my neck.
I leaned back to enjoy his lips as they explored my skin, feeling just a bit like I had when we’d been in high school and had spent hours making out in my room. If only I could get back the feeling of how enamored I’d been with Ben back then, I knew we’d be okay. Maybe time apart was just what we needed. Maybe then I’d miss him enough to know for sure that we should be together.
Chapter Six
After spending the whole next day helping my mom clean the house, I felt like I needed to get out for a while. It was a nice night, so I decided to take Randy up to my favorite coffeehouse that was in walking distance from our house. I found him sprawled out in front of the unlit fireplace in the living room, half asleep.
My parents were watching a show on the Travel Channel about African safaris. They looked up from the TV when I entered the room, Randy’s leash in my hand. I clicked the clasp on the leash several times to get his attention. After the first click, his head snapped up, and he registered what that clicking sound meant before bounding over to me, more than eager to go out.
“Where are you headed?” my mom asked me.
Clipping the leash on Randy’s collar, I said, “Just up to the coffeehouse. I’m craving a latte. I won’t be gone long.”
“Alright, have fun,” she said. “Is Keely going with you?”
Ah, so my mom hadn’t picked up on the fact that Keely and I were on the outs.
“No, she’s staying here,” I said, as I started to walk toward the door. No need to let my parents know about our fight. It wasn’t like I could share the details of it anyway.
I started to fish my iPod out of my pocket, sticking my ear buds in my ears before heading out.
“Emily,” came my dad’s voice, as I almost had my hand on the doorknob.
“Yeah,” I yelled back in the general direction of the living room.
“Can you pick up a pound of French Roast? We’re out.”
I sighed. “Sure, Dad. No problem,” I said, before I pushed play on my iPod and drowned out the world around me.
I reached the coffee shop quickly, as I immersed myself in my favorite Paramore album from a few years back and walked at a faster clip than usual. Outside, I tethered Randy to the light pole and went in to get my latte. Coming back out, I saw someone leaning over next to him, talking to him and stroking his head.
“Hi,” I said to the back of the guy’s head, trying to grab his attention. I wondered why people always thought it was okay to pet other people’s animals without permission. It was sort of rude.
The guy looked up in surprise, and I started the minute his eyes met mine.
“Hey. Sorry. Is this your dog?” he asked, standing up straight.
I nodded and swallowed hard, trying to regain my composure. He was around my age with dark brown hair and light brown eyes that seemed to burn a hole right through me. He was cute, really cute, and I instantly felt guilty for thinking so. He also looked vaguely familiar, although I couldn’t place how I might have known him.
“He’s beautiful,” the guy said, running his hand back through his hair. I instantly felt bad for thinking he was rude.
“Thanks,” I said, not really sure how else to respond. I was a little tongue-tied.
“What’s his name?” the guy asked, and I realized he had a bit of a southern drawl that was just this side of sexy.
“Randy,” I said, as I sat down with my latte at the table closest to Randy’s light pole, pulled my iPod out of my pocket and laid it on the table.
Randy looked up at me for a moment to see if I had a treat. When he saw that my hands were empty, save for the small purple electronic device and the bag of coffee, he went back to half-sleeping on the ground. The guy petted him once more, causing Randy’s tail to move lazily back and forth.
“What are you listening to?” he asked, eyeing me as he stood up and leaned back against the light pole. He nodded toward my iPod.
I looked down at it instinctively, following his gaze, and then back up at him. I again got the distinct feeling that I’d met him before but still couldn’t place where. Maybe he just had one of those familiar faces, although he was far from ordinary looking. He was striking in a way that was hard to describe. He wasn’t classically good looking like Ben. He was more exotic or dangerous or something.
He had a lean build and was shorter than Ben, and his dark hair fell across his forehead, almost into his eyes, in a messy, sexy way. He had on distressed jeans, a fitted black t-shirt that let me know he worked out, and black Converse sneakers. I could see the edges of a large tattoo sticking out from one of his shirt sleeves, and when he turned his head to the left slightly, I could see a brown cigarette tucked behind his ear. What got me, though, were his eyes. They were so light that they were almost translucent in the light from the pole above him. I couldn’t stop staring at them and almost had a hard time answering his question.
“Um, Paramore,” I said tentatively, my self-consciousness taking over.
He nodded once. “Good band. There’s nothing sexier than a girl screaming over a guitar.”
I raised my eyebrow at him, not sure if he was joking or not.
“What? I’m not kidding. I love it.” He shot me a crooked smile that made his already cute face turn downright gorgeous and sexy. He was really hot.
I slowly traced the edge of my iPod, wishing I could think of something insightful to say.
“What song?” he asked, gesturing again to my iPod. I was grateful that he was keeping the conversation going since I was at a loss for words.
“Brick By Boring Brick. It’s my favorite,” I said, not sure what he would say to that.
He shook his head. “Haven’t heard it.”
“You should check it out. It’s good,” I said, relaxing slightly as the conversation became more comfortable. I could always talk about music.
“I will,” he said, shooting me a half-grin that made my stomach swirl. “You a big music fan?”
I nodded. “Yeah, just a little,” I said, dropping a hint of sarcasm into my tone, as I smiled sheepishly.
“Who else are you into?”
My mind suddenly went blank as I tried to remember what I’d recently downloaded. “Um, I’ve actually been digging back into some stuff from a few years ago, so, um I guess I’ve been listening to a lot of Rise Against, Silversun Pickups and AFI.”
“So you’re angry,” he said, and my mouth wanted to fall open.
This guy who didn’t even know me seemed to have a better read on me that those who knew me best. I wasn’t sure how to respond, but before I could, he shot me another sexy smile.
“I’m just messing with you,” he said, his accent and smile instantly relaxing me.
“How about you?” I asked, suddenly feeling brazen. “Favorite bands, favorite song.”
“Which decade?” he asked, and I could tell he took the subject seriously by the sudden intensity that appeared in his eyes.
“Current music,” I said, definitively. “I’m guessing this is one of your favorite topics?”
I wasn’t sure where my sudden surge of confidence was coming from, but I realized I was enjoying our little exchange. I never even thought about the fact that I was having a full-on conversation with a guy whose name I didn’t even know. I didn’t even think to ask him.
“That is an understatement,” he said, and I could hear the conviction in his voice. “Lately I guess I’ve been listening to a lot of Florence + the Machine and Coldplay. Favorite song at the moment – Paradise, by Coldplay. Probably overplayed, I know, but I love it.” He shook his head as if he was disappointed in himself.
I smirked at him. “Wow, so are you looking for a cure for your depression or something?”
He shrugged. “Maybe,” he said, his gaze losing focus for a moment, and I wondered where he’d gone.
Had I brought up a sore subject? I hadn’t meant to insult him. I was only
joking. I hoped he wasn’t actually depressed.
“What are you drinking?” he asked then, snapping his attention back the present and instantly changing the subject and his demeanor.
I’d definitely hit a sore spot, but it seemed he’d recovered quickly.
“Um,” I said, looking down at my drink. “Vanilla latte.”
Cute Boy nodded. “Sounds sweet.”
The way he said sweet, his accent wrapping around the word, caused my mind to drift to an inappropriate place and I felt my face flush. I bit my lip to keep my thoughts at bay.
“Um, yeah,” I said, releasing my lip and hoping it was dark enough that he couldn’t see my blush. “It’s good, though. You should try one.”
He nodded. “Maybe another time. I need something stronger tonight.”
He left his statement open-ended, almost as if he wanted me to probe, so I played along. He seemed like he needed someone to talk to, and who was I to dismiss a hottie like him if he needed a sounding board?
“Why’s that?” I asked, taking a sip of my latte and playing into the conversation.
He sighed. “I’m being forced to assemble wedding favors,” he said, smiling a small, half-smile and shaking his head slightly.
He was getting married? I was suddenly aware of the frown that had appeared on my face at the idea of him being off the market. Of course I was off the market too. I really had to do a better job of remembering that I had a boyfriend.
“My dad,” he said, taking in my expression. I instantly exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “He’s getting married next weekend, so I’m in town for the wedding and his fiancée is freaking out. I offered to help her put the favors together.” He put his index finger to his temple and mimed shooting a gun at his head.
I laughed. “That doesn’t sound fun,” I said, wondering how long I could keep the conversation going with this complete stranger who tipped the hotness scales like no one I’d ever seen before.
“No, it isn’t going to be fun at all, which is why I need a triple espresso tonight. It will be the only thing to get me through it.”
I laughed again. He was cute and funny.
He shook his head again, laughing along with me before pushing himself off the light pole. “Okay, I’ve procrastinated long enough. Time to get my coffee and return to wedding hell.”
“Good luck,” I said, extending my over-exaggerated sympathies his way. He mouthed ‘thank you’ in an equally over-exaggerated way.
He was being dramatic, but I knew he was only half-serious. He seemed like a nice guy who’d want to help out his future step-mother just because he knew she needed the help. I watched as he turned back to Randy who was eyeing him lazily.
“Well, I’m going to get a coffee now, Randy,” he said. “Thanks for letting me pet you.” He ruffled Randy’s fur one more time, before he stood up and headed inside.
I found myself watching him walk, taking in the sexy, languid way he moved. As he stood in line, I could see just enough of him to continue to stare. I watched him advance toward the counter, order his drink, and wait off to the side for the barista to make it. For some reason, I couldn’t pull my eyes away from him. I hypnotically sipped my latte, while trying to remain discreet, so I wouldn’t get caught staring.
He had that bad boy look to him that just screamed ‘danger’, but he hadn’t seemed dangerous while he’d been talking to me. He’d seemed nice. It was too bad he was just in town visiting.
As soon as I thought that, I instantly wanted to clamp my hand over my mouth. I had a boyfriend. I seriously needed to remember that.
I did not need to be daydreaming about what I would do with some other guy if he lived here – even if he was insanely hot and sexy. Especially when I was envisioning exactly what I’d been avoiding doing with Ben the night before. I took a deep breath to silence the fighting emotions that had welled up inside me, but I still couldn’t look away from him.
When he walked back outside, I smiled at him. He held up his espresso in a sort of salute before walking past me to the parking lot where he got into a black F150.
I shamelessly watched him the whole way.
Chapter Seven
A few days later July fifth arrived, and it was time for my siblings and me to join our parents at the beach for a summer of forced family fun. Keely and I were waiting for Chase to return from taking Rachel to get her car. She’d left it at Sara Rossin’s house the night before in our haste to leave the party after everything had essentially turned to shit.
Rachel had insisted on coming home with me and staying the night, so while I finished making sure I had everything packed for the beach and the car was loaded, Chase had offered to drive her to get her car. I thought was completely thoughtful and completely out of character for him, but after the night we’d had, I wasn’t really in the mood to ask questions.
I was exhausted from what seemed like an endless night that had included me thinking I was crazy for even considering that Ben wasn’t the right guy for me to getting angry at Ben and breaking up with him out of the blue after having too much to drink to shedding more tears than I had in a long time over our break-up. And I’d gotten into a fist fight. It had not been a good night.
In the bright morning light that was streaming through the windows in my room, I knelt in front of my suitcase, packed the last of my clothes and hoped that my stomach would settle down. I’d thrown up countless times the night before and was in the middle of experiencing a wicked hangover that made my head ache and my stomach beg for greasy food. I’d only felt that bad two other times and was pretty sure I’d blocked out the pain, since I hadn’t remembered it being so intense. Of course, I was also sporting red, puffy eyes, since I’d spent the better part of the night bawling my eyes out. I knew that couldn’t be helping matters at all.
On top of everything else I was still emotional from everything that had happened and fighting back tears that still threatened to fall, as I wondered if I’d made the right decision in breaking up with Ben. It had been so rash and unexpected, but in the moment, it was exactly what I’d wanted.
I picked up a pair of jeans and a filmy white top that were draped across the back of my desk chair. I’d worn both of them to the party the night before and had laid them across the chair when I’d stumbled into my room at midnight, flanked by Rachel and my brother, each of them supporting me since I couldn’t stand on my own.
Those two items were the last things I had to pack. They both needed to be washed, as the top was half-soaked in beer and my favorite pair of jeans had a mud on the back from when I’d fallen down at the party and landed in a beer/dirt concoction on the floor. That had been at the peak of the worst part of my night.
Ironically, before everything went south, the night had started out sort of perfect. Ben had taken me to dinner before the party and we had plans to leave early so we could spend some time alone. Because of that, he’d been in a spectacularly good mood. And thinking that I needed to let loose and not be so rigid, as Chase and Ben had both told me, I’d decided to do just that and have some fun.
That included getting drunk – really drunk – which might have been a mistake since I wasn’t a big drinker. The last time I could remember being really drunk was the night sophomore year that led to me think I might be pregnant. I usually drank socially, having no more than a beer or two a night. But for the first time in a while, I let go of all of my inhibitions and didn’t let myself think about consequences. That turned out to be error number one.
At first, I found myself having fun, laughing, and smiling naturally for the first time in months. I felt so relaxed, but then I hit a point where the more I drank, the more things started to go from good to bad to worse. I honestly blamed Ashleigh Ballast, since looking back it was all her fault that I was now boyfriendless and probably the topic of many post-party conversations that would take place. I’d take the blame for the hangover, but everything else was her fault.
Over the
years, I’d come to realize that she had a thing for Ben, and she’d never really gotten over the fact that he’d picked me in high school. She always felt compelled to shamelessly flirt with him whenever she saw him. I was used to it after five years, but the night before I actually walked in on her pawing him in the kitchen and rubbing up against him about an hour after we’d gotten to the party. That pretty much crossed a line in my book.
As soon as Ben saw me, the uncomfortable look on his face turned to panic as he realized what the scene must look like from my perspective. He backed away from Ashleigh so quickly that it looked like he’d been shocked. I immediately shot a glare at her as she leaned against the counter looking indifferent to the situation.
Ben started apologizing profusely, but being drunk and very over Ashleigh always trying to steal my boyfriend, I’d just turned around and walked away from them both, putting my hand up behind me to stop Ben from coming after me. I needed to decompress and let go of what I’d seen and what might have happened next had I not walked in on them.
Of course, Ben immediately ran after me, cornering me in the hallway and babbling like a crazy person about how sorry he was. That started fight number one of the night. If only he’d let me calm down before he’d come after me, it might not have been so bad. I was not usually an overly emotional person in public, but in that moment, I was so fired up that I didn’t give a damn that people were staring and commenting that sweet Emily Cole was flying off the handle.
Not caring who noticed, and sick of the expectation others had laid upon me to be good and sweet and nice all the time, I’d let loose on Ben, shouting out everything I was feeling all at once. In Ben’s defense, I’d never before expressed any aggravation with Ashleigh’s flirting and over-aggressive attempts to make-out with him, so it may have come as a surprise that I was so upset, but at the same time, how could he think I could have been okay with all of it? Yes, I had known Ashleigh since kindergarten, and was never surprised to find her flirting with anyone, especially Ben, but it was just a teensy bit annoying after five years that she continued to do it.
Broken Fairytales Series Box Set (Broken Fairytales, Buried Castles, Shattered Crowns) Page 6