Damaged Love

by Riann C. Miller

  When Rachel opens her door, she causes my breath to catch. She has on a pair of white shorts and a green colored top that gives me a good idea of how amazing her chest really is. She left her long black hair down in waves around her face, and her blue eyes seem to be sparkling in a way I’d like to think is just for me.

  “Do you want to come in?” I nod my head, still trying to find my voice. I step inside and look around at the very average sized apartment. Small kitchen, small living room, but everything I can see appears spotless. “It’s not much, but it’s mine. Russ crashes here a lot, but other than that, I don’t have to worry about cleaning up after anyone.”

  “I’m not judging you. I live at home with my dad.” I’m already needing some form of contact with her. Therefore, I reach out and grab ahold of her hand...catching her off guard. “You ready?” I ask.

  Rachel looks down to our connected hands then back up to me and nods her head yes. “Then let’s go.” We walk out to my car, and this time she seems comfortable enough to hop right in.

  I have no idea where to take her when an idea pops in my head. I end up driving us to the Santa Monica Pier where we wander around until we finally decide to grab a burger.

  “Do you eat down here often?” I ask, knowing that she’s not too far from her school.

  “No, it’s out of the way, and I usually don’t have time for anything that’s not fast food. Are you from around here?” she sweetly questions.

  “Yes, I live in Malibu with my dad.”

  Her eyes go wide. “Impressive.”

  “For my dad, maybe. I don’t own the house,” I snap with more of an attitude than I intended.

  Rachel slowly places her burger on her plate and clears her throat. “Did I say the wrong thing? I didn’t mean to upset you.” Rachel’s question and the soft expression she’s wearing has me feeling like a huge ass. With females, I’m always a little on the paranoid side after they make any comment referring to my dad’s money.

  “No, I’m sorry. That was rude of me,” I reply, but I think the damage has already been done because Rachel’s face looks guarded now compared to earlier.

  “In the second grade, my girlfriend told everyone I was going to buy her a mansion to live in. Since then, it’s only gotten worse. Sometimes I react without thinking when someone makes a comment about my dad’s money.”

  Rachel tilts her head to the side and studies me. “I can’t speak for everyone, but I can promise you, Jet McKenzie, I’m not after your dad’s money.” My chest instantly relaxes. I don’t know why because I barely know this woman, but my gut tells me she’s not lying.

  “Good. Do you want kids anytime soon?” I ask with a smirk on my face.

  Rachel’s eyes go wide as she processes what I just asked. “God, no. Do you?”

  I can’t stop the deep laugh that rumbles from my chest, not only because I asked her the same question my last date asked me, but from the horrid expression she’s wearing. “No, definitely not. The last woman I took out on a date—the same night I met you—thought that was a suitable question, so I thought it was best to know where your head is at.”

  “Good Lord, you seem to be shit in the dating department. Maybe I should abort ship now while I still have a chance.” Rachel smirks.

  “Not a chance. I have your number, remember? I’ll go crazy stalker on you, so you’ll save us both a lot of trouble if you agree to see me again.”

  Luckily, Rachel picks up on my humor exactly like I expected her to. “Okay, but only because I feel terribly sorry for you. I’ll come up with a reasonable excuse to ditch you the next time you call. That seems easier than changing my number again.” She winks.

  “I’ll consider myself lucky, then. The last thing I want to be forced to do is hack into your account to find out your new number.” Rachel shakes her head with a smile then picks up her burger.

  After that little mishap, we finish the rest of our meal with ease, talking about nothing important. All too soon, we’re walking out the restaurant door. “You want to walk around a bit?” Rachel’s eyes light up as she quickly agrees. I reach out and lace our hands together where I can feel the heat from her body coursing through mine.

  “This is the first time you’ve been out here?” I ask again because Rachel seems in awe of everything in sight.

  “Yeah. I’ve lived here for a few years now, but I’ve never had time to go out and explore. My family is originally from California, but we moved to Florida when I was a kid. A few years back, my jerk of a father got a wild hair up his ass to move his company back out here. My mother followed him, so naturally Russ and I did, too.”

  Rachel has never mixed words when talking about her parents. She loves her mother but apparently hates her father.

  “Why do you dislike your father so much?” I ask when we stop in front of a street vendor.

  Rachel takes a deep breath then looks up at me. “My dad’s a user. He doesn’t care whom he has to step on in order to get what he wants. Usually, in our house, that’s my mother, who doesn’t know any better.”

  I bite my tongue to keep myself from reminding her that her mother is a grown woman who makes her own decisions, but I don’t know Rachel well enough to make that kind of statement. The last thing I want to do is piss her off like I did the night I drove her home when I made a comment about her brother.

  “Let’s get ice cream. My treat.” Rachel smiles from ear to ear, and before I have the chance to say anything else, she’s already wandered off, telling the ice cream vendor what she wants. “Mint chocolate chip for me. What do you want, Jet?”

  Rachel’s hand goes into her purse, probably to dig out her wallet, but I beat her to it by handing the man a twenty-dollar bill. “Hey, I called dibs on paying.” The sour expression on her face has me chuckling.

  “What kind of date would this be if I let you pay?”

  Rachel rolls her eyes. “Really, Mr. I-think-every-woman-wants-me-for-my-mansion, won’t allow a female to pay for ice cream?” I keep my eyes on Rachel, but I shake my head no at the vendor when he asks me if I want anything. The flavor I’m currently in the mood for isn’t one he’s selling.

  “How often do you go out on dates?” she questions while my body ignites from watching her lick her ice cream.

  “Not often. I don’t understand the whole need to go out on pointless dates. For the most part, I have to be fairly interested before I ask a girl out.”

  Rachel smiles. “What made you ask the girl you went out with the night you met me?”

  Shit. If I decide to be honest, I’ll sound like a douchebag. “I met her on my way out of the office building I work in. She seemed...nice. However, she did some research, and sometime between meeting her and taking her out, she formed a plan for us to start having babies together.”

  Rachel lets out a loud laugh that catches the eye of several people around us. “Oh my God. That’s funny. And this happens to you a lot?” Rachel is still laughing at me, to the point that her eyes have watered.

  “Sometimes. I don’t go out on enough dates to tell you for certain. What about you? How often do you go out on dates?”

  Rachel ponders my question for a few moments before finally answering, “Since I’ve moved out, I’ve been on quite a few dates. Last week I went out with a guy I met at school, but there weren’t any sparks, not a single one.”

  I go numb when I soak in her words. She went out on a date last week when she wouldn’t even give me her number. Since the night I met Rachel, she’s captivated my every thought. Obviously, that’s not the case for her. My brain starts to focus on what she’s saying only to catch the tail end of her sentence.

  “...then his hand touched my boob again, and I was done. D-O-N-E, done. Thank God I agreed to meet him at the restaurant, so he didn’t know where I lived,” she animatedly says.

  I knew I liked Rachel, but I don’t think I knew just how true that comment was until I pictured her out on a date with someone other than me.

 
; “Jet, what’s the matter?” Her laughter dissipates as she takes in my serious expression.

  “You went out on a date last week when you wouldn’t even give me your number?” I breathe out a long sigh. I’m more than bothered by the fact that she was dating another guy when she quickly blew me off.

  “I went out on one date with Marc, but I never gave him my number,” she states. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  I’m trying my hardest to act like I’m not on the verge of getting pissed off, but I’m failing.

  “You didn’t ask me out on an actual date. You asked me for my number. Plus, you knew where I lived. Maybe not which apartment but still you could have found me if you really wanted to, but you didn’t. I never gave Marc my number; I simply agreed to meet him in a public place to see if there were any sparks, which there were...not.” Rachel overstated the word not, hoping to get her point across.

  “What’s your hang-up with cell phone numbers?” I ask when I couldn’t think of anything better to say.

  “I told you. Some guys don’t take no for an answer all that well, and until I’m positive they aren’t a stalker or a total creep, I don’t give it out. But, I gave you my number,” she adds with a heated look.

  “Oh,” I mumble. “Rachel, I want...” I pause and take a deep breath. “I want to take you out and have your number,” I quickly say before my anxiety takes over.

  “Lucky you. You already have my number, and tonight you scored a date.” She steps closer, leaving her face inches from mine. I’m certain she made what she feels is the first move.

  While looking her in the eyes, I lower my mouth to hers. I force myself not to groan as her soft lips brush against mine. My willpower to refrain myself shatters as Rachel presses her body into mine, fueling my desire. I nip at her lips, secretly asking permission to take it a step further, and she does exactly what I want by opening her mouth. Our tongues move together in perfect rhythm. Rachel tastes like chocolate and mint, and something else that I think might be purely Rachel.

  Our kiss starts to slow then Rachel slightly pulls back. When I look down at her, her eyes are closed, but she’s wearing a huge smile on her face.

  When she slowly opens her eyes, I know we’re on the same page. She wants me just as much as I want her. If I could be granted one wish, I would drag her back to her place and show her just how much I really want her, but not tonight. Not on our first date.

  “Damn. That was...” Rachel seems genuinely pleased with herself.

  “Yes, it was. Hopefully, Marc wasn’t treated to the same,” I say in an attempt to be funny, but I’m hoping like hell he didn’t get the same treatment I was just rewarded with.

  “Are you kidding me? Did you not hear what I said? Every time I turned around the jerk was using any excuse he could to touch my boobs,” she replies with a shudder.

  No, I wasn’t listening close enough to catch that bit of information. I wrap my arm around Rachel’s shoulder. Thankfully, she fits perfectly under my arm. I turn us in the direction of my car. “I’m glad that Marc isn’t someone you want to go out with again. Otherwise, I would have to hunt him down and hurt him to make sure I got my point across.”

  “What point is that?” I knew she was going to ask that question, and I almost dread telling her the truth.

  “That we’re exploring something, and while we’re testing the waters, we don’t need outsiders tainting us.” That seems like the best way to describe what I’m feeling. My dad beat it in my head that women deserve respect. Therefore, I’ve never used a girl and tossed her out like my friends have. It also means I haven’t had much experience in actually dating a woman.

  I like Rachel. Scratch that, I more than like her. I want to see if the chemistry we have between us could be something more, but that doesn’t mean I want a serious girlfriend, either. At the same time, while it might make me an asshole, I don’t like the idea of Rachel going out on dates with anyone else.

  “So we’re not dating, but we’re exclusive?” she asks with a smirk in her tone. “I’ve gotta say, Jet, this has to be a first.” She laughs, causing my heart to race.

  “Well, I...” I stumble, unsure how to reply without looking like a jerk.

  “No, it’s okay. I like you, and believe it or not, I don’t usually make a habit out of juggling men. That’s more stress than I need in my life, and I like you enough to see where this could go.” Her words relax the anxiety I felt seconds before.

  “Then it’s settled.” I tilt Rachel’s head back and look down into her blue eyes again. “I’m busy tomorrow, but Monday night, if you’re free, we’ll grab something quick to eat after I get off work?” I can feel Rachel’s chest rise and fall with every breath she takes. Every time I feel her breasts push against me, I know I want to do a hell of a lot more than just kiss her.

  “Monday night, it’s a date,” she answers as I lean over and take her mouth against mine once again, delivering the second most amazing kiss of the night...maybe even my life.

  JET

  SUNDAY CAME AND WENT. BETWEEN homework and my job with Kenner Technology, I was busy all day, but thoughts of Rachel lingered in my mind. By the time I was finally done working Monday evening, I sent her a text telling her I would be heading toward her apartment soon with takeout.

  By the time I finally knocked on her door, I surprised even myself at how much I wanted to see her again.

  “Hi,” Rachel greets as she opens her door. She’s wearing black yoga pants and a tight pink tank top. Her hair is in a long braid going down one side of her neck, and I have to say, I’ve never seen a woman look more beautiful than the way Rachel does without even trying. Maybe that’s the key. She’s not trying to impress me. Instead, she’s being herself.

  “Do you want to come in or were you planning to hang out in the hallway all evening?”

  “Oh yes. Sorry.” Rachel smiles as I finally step inside. Again, her apartment is neat and clean. Everything seems to have an exact place, which I find slightly odd for an eighteen-year-old.

  “Are you a neat freak?”

  Instead of pissing her off, she sweetly laughs. “Maybe. My life growing up was chaotic at best. I feel better when everything has a place. That was one of the reasons I had for moving out. My family isn’t capable of doing normal for even short periods of time.”

  I have no idea what that must be like. My dad is the most calm and collected, down to earth person I’ve ever met, and he more than made up for the fact that I grew up without a mother.

  “I’m sorry,” I say when nothing else seems acceptable.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she says over her shoulder as she sets out plates for the food I brought.

  “This smells wonderful.” She inhales a deep breath as she opens the bag next to her.

  “I went with a favorite of mine. I hope you like Indian food.”

  “Yes. I love it. My favorite is that little Indian restaurant that’s a few doors down from our coffee shop.” I wonder if she noticed that she said our coffee shop because I love the fact that she did.

  “This food is from there. I work on the same block. Besides being easy to pick up, it’s also my favorite.”

  “I work on the same block, too. In the West Star building.”

  “Really?” How is that possible? “I work in the West Star building.” And I would have remembered seeing Rachel.

  “I work part time on the first floor for Jones Investments. They’re a fairly small company, and I only work a few days a week. Being on the first floor, I miss all the elevator action,” she replies in a singsong voice.

  Riding down in the elevator is exactly how I met Jill. Maybe Rachel is right, and our timing has been off. “Now that I know where you work, I’ll be sure to seek you out.”

  “Watch out for my boss. He has a stick up his old ass.” I choke on my drink when I start laughing at her comment. I keep thinking I don’t know why I’m drawn to Rachel, but this is exactly why. She finally s
eems alive and relaxed, and she doesn’t appear to give a damn if she’s impressing me.

  In the past, women acted like they had everything they’re going to say to me rehearsed, and they typically said exactly what they thought I wanted to hear. That gets old quick.

  Rachel grabs her plate, and instead of eating at the table, she walks to the sofa and juggles her food while sitting with her knees up. I follow her lead, but I keep my feet safely on the floor.

  “What company do you work for?” Rachel asks between bites of food.

  “Kenner Technology.”

  Her face changes from relaxed to impressed. “Kenner? Wow, how old are you?”

  “Nineteen,” I answer with a decent amount of pride. I earned my internship, but I scored my job with Kenner because my dad bought the company. I’m not about to kid anyone otherwise, but now’s my time to show everyone what I’m capable of, and that’s exactly what I plan to do.

  “Impressive, but I thought I heard Kenner was filing bankruptcy.” Rachel’s nose scrunches. Either she keeps up with local companies, or she’s heard rumors around the West Star building.

  “They were, but they recently received financial backing.”

  I don’t tell her that my dad is the backing and risk tipping her off on how exactly I earned my job. Rachel seems impressed, and I want to keep it that way, at least for now.

  “I’m sure Kenner is lucky to have you on their team. Compared to most guys our age, you seem to have a good head on your shoulders.” Her words cause my stomach to tighten. For as long as I can remember, people have told me I’m mature for my age. I never went through a wild phase like Matt or even Eric, for that matter. Now that I’m nineteen, I’m ready for the world to know that I have more to offer than just being Nick McKenzie’s son, even if I wouldn’t change that title for anything.