Crazy Stupid Love (Crazy Love #1)

by Melissa Toppen

  Crazy Stupid Love

  Crazy Love, Volume 1

  Melissa Toppen

  Published by Daft Empire, 2016.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  CRAZY STUPID LOVE

  First edition. April 19, 2016.

  Copyright © 2016 Melissa Toppen.

  ISBN: 978-1524278601

  Written by Melissa Toppen.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

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  Also By Melissa Toppen

  Sometimes falling in love is more than just crazy, it's downright stupid... Embrace the madness.

  Prologue

  Decklan

  Screams, that’s all I can hear. The shrill cries of a woman that pierces my ears with so much intensity the ringing in my head becomes nearly unbearable, the pressure between my temples threatening to explode at any moment.

  Distant voices filter into the chaos of white noise and random muffled tones seem to seep their way in from a distant place. I don’t recognize any of them. Except one...the screaming woman, her I know.

  My body becomes weightless, lifting from the ground as if to float away.

  Am I dying?

  Am I already dead?

  I can’t be...there’s too much pain. It radiates from everywhere. I can feel it coursing through my limbs, demanding to be felt.

  Please make it stop.

  I just want it to go away.

  I can’t take it.

  It’s too much.

  Then I remember...

  My eyes dart open, searching frantically. He’s here. He’s right here.

  Where is he?

  “Conner,” I manage to say, but my voice is broken and not audible over the bustle of unrecognizable people that seem to close in around me.

  “Where’s Conner?” I try again, this time my voice managing to catch the attention of a man next to me, his face unrecognizable through my blurred, distorted vision.

  “He’s responding.” I hear the voice say to another.

  “We’ve got you, son.” Another voice.

  “Conner,” I demand more forcefully, still too disoriented to know who I am speaking to.

  “We’ve got you.” I hear again.

  Why is no one answering me?

  Where are they taking me?

  My mind may not be able to process what is happening but somehow it already seems to know. Conner’s gone... I just know it. I can feel it; like losing a part of myself.

  I want to scream, demand that I see him, but I’m a prisoner to this body. This damaged broken body that has no fight left in it.

  I silently close my eyes and let the darkness take me.

  It’s where I belong.

  It’s where I’ve always belonged.

  Chapter One

  Kimber

  I knew I shouldn’t have come here tonight. I don’t know why I let my roommate and her crazy best friend drag me all the way to Portland, let alone dress me in this tight little cocktail dress that makes it feel difficult to breathe normally. I guess it’s my feeble attempt to feel like I’m a part of something; to fit in. But now as I sit here watching the two girls grind on any man within a ten-foot radius of them, it’s blindingly clear that fitting in is not something I am doing.

  It’s been nearly two months since I moved to Oregon, and I still feel like such an outsider. Even still, I do my best not to seem too out of place sitting at a round high-top table all by myself in the back of a hopping bar, sipping virgin strawberry daiquiris like I am not the biggest loser in the world.

  To say a bar named Deviants is out of my comfort zone is a major understatement. With dark walls, wild lights, and the most elaborate looking glass bar, I can honestly say I have never stepped foot inside of somewhere even remotely similar to this. Places like this don’t exist in the tiny town I grew up in, at least not that I was ever aware of. Of course, I had blinders on for most of my life, thanks to my overprotective parents who kept me, from what I am now learning, quite sheltered.

  It wasn’t an easy decision leaving my home in West Virginia, let alone moving to the opposite side of the country, but I knew if I wanted any chance of becoming my own person I had to do it.

  My parents’ were furious and while things are still not okay with us, we are at least on speaking terms again. Of course, they refused to pay for even one dime of my tuition. Luckily I worked my butt off in high school and graduated at the top of my class, earning myself quite a hefty Art scholarship to The University of Oregon. A far cry from the legal or medical degree my parents’ dreamed I would pursue.

  I shake my head and hold up my drink when my roommate Harlee waves for me to join her on the dance floor. She rolls her eyes and throws me an annoyed glare but is quickly distracted when a dark-haired man steps up behind her and begins rubbing his crotch into her backside. I can’t help but cringe slightly. I don’t see the fun in having random sweaty strangers rub up all over you like that.

  “Could you be any lamer?” Angel, Harlee’s wild-haired best friend startles me with her sudden presence.

  “I’m not lame.” I huff. “I’m people watching.” I take a long sip of my icy drink, pushing my dark blonde waves behind my shoulders as I straighten my posture.

  “Like I said, lame.” She jumps slightly when a man who looks to be at least thirty slides in behind her, setting a beer and a multicolored shot in front of her despite the fact that she’s not legally old enough to drink; none of us are.

  Giving me a wicked smile, she raises the shot glass to her lips and tips it back, draining the liquid in seconds.

  “Delicious,” she hisses, wiping her lips with the back of her hand before turning in the man’s arms.

  Locking her hands around the back of his neck, she pulls him into a kiss so heated it makes me blush slightly just being near them.

  “Get a room,” I mumble under my breath, turning my eyes away from the indecency taking place just to my right.

  I have only been around Angel a handful of times, but I have her pretty figured out at this point. She’s not all that picky when it comes to men and loves being the center of attention. Everywhere she goes she feeds off of it.

  If her black hair with bright blue streaks doesn’t give it away, her short skirts and barely-there shirts definitely prove that she likes turning heads. She has most definitely turned the head of the man now lapping his tongue up her neck reminding me more of a dog than an actual human being.

  Harlee isn’t much different though she tends to be a little more subtle about it. Instead of crazy colors, she sports almost platinum blonde hair that hangs nearly to her waist, and her preferred outfits of choice are tight little tube dresses or yoga pants that leave very little to the imaginati
on.

  Either way, I couldn’t be more different than the two girls I let drag me nearly an hour and a half from campus on a Saturday night. Truth be told, I have yet to really meet anyone who doesn’t value the very same things they do. I most definitely feel like I am in the minority. I guess it just stems back to how I was raised.

  Don’t get me wrong, a part of me wants to lash out, go completely crazy and just live life like these girls do. I just don’t know that I have it in me. I’m trying. I’m trying to push myself out of my comfort zone, out of the contained little bubble my parents’ kept me prisoner in for so long, but even when I do it seems like I just end up doing exactly what I’m doing now.

  “Why don’t you join us, Kimber?” Angel leans forward and snags her beer from the table, taking a long drink before turning her gaze back to me.

  “I’m good,” I insist, realizing very quickly that I am going to have to be the one to drive Angel’s car home as she lifts the bottle to her lips again.

  “Suit yourself.” She grabs the hand of the man behind her and bounces off towards the dance floor, towing him with her.

  She’s gone no more than sixty seconds when I look up and lock eyes with an approaching male, a sleazy looking twenty-something who quickly slides up next to me.

  “You look like you could use a drink,” he says, and he’s not the first person to approach me tonight saying almost the exact same thing.

  “I’m good.” I smile politely, trying not to tense when he leans in closer.

  “Oh come on, honey. Let me buy you a real drink,” he insists. He skirts his hand along my lower back as he steps in closer and nods towards my near empty daiquiri.

  “Really. I’m good here,” I insist, leaning to the right trying to put a little distance between us.

  “You sure? Looks to me like you could use some loosening up.” He breathes, his hot beer-scented breath dancing across my face.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” I say as I slide from the stool, my sudden movement causing the man to topple forward slightly. “I think my friend needs me.” I don’t look back as I make a v-line towards the front door, hoping the man doesn’t follow me.

  Weaving in and out of the various people that crowd the room, I let out a loud exhale the moment the fresh night air fills my lungs. Stepping to the edge of the sidewalk, I slide down onto the curb, careful to keep my backside covered in this tiny dress as I do. Stretching my legs out in front of me, I ignore the multiple conversations taking place to my right where several people have gathered to smoke.

  I take another deep inhale and let it out slowly, looking to my left when I spot someone leaning against a motorcycle parked on the side of the road. My eyes land on a pair of black boots first then dark ripped jeans as they climb higher. A tight fitted V-neck t-shirt reveals rippling muscles below the thin fabric and causes me to take a shaky breath as my eyes continue upward.

  The moment the man’s face comes into view all the air leaves my body. His full lips wrap around a cigarette held loosely in his hand and he takes a hard drag, smoke billowing from his mouth seconds later.

  I’m immediately drawn to his wild sexy hair, the way the dark blond strands are pushed to the side haphazardly with a large chunk falling in front of one of his eyes. His jaw is strong and prominent even hidden below the mass of short dark stubble that covers his incredibly handsome face. I would guess him in his mid to late twenties.

  He takes another drag of his cigarette, completely oblivious to the fact that I have not taken my eyes off him. He stares blankly ahead, his features drawn and hard like he’s deep in thought.

  I don’t know what it is about him, but just looking at him rattles me. It’s not his looks, the attraction is obvious, it’s more about his presence; how even though he’s standing completely alone he seems to command the very world that surrounds him.

  He lets out another smoky exhale before dropping his cigarette to the ground, crushing the burning tip under the sole of his boot. Flipping his eyes to the side, the moment they meet mine I feel like I have been transported to some alternate reality; the ground beneath me seeming to shift on its very axis. He’s even more breathtaking from the front.

  I may not be promiscuous like Harlee or Angel, but that doesn’t mean I’m immune to men, it just takes a lot more than a look to get me all riled up, or it usually does anyway. Something about sitting in this man’s gaze has me feeling a variation of things I’m not certain I have ever really felt before; lust being the most prominent feeling of them all.

  His deep gray eyes study me for a long moment, the air so thick between us I feel like I might suffocate under the weight. I open my mouth, feeling like I need to say something. Before I can even muster up the courage to speak he breaks the connection, turning his eyes forward as he pushes away from the bike and heads back inside the bar.

  I sit glued to the sidewalk for several long seconds before reality seems to resurface. What was that all about? Trying to shake off the feeling the sexy stranger has left me with, I decide it’s time get back inside and find my friends so I can get the hell out of here.

  The moment I re-enter Deviants, I head straight towards the dance floor catching the eyes of Harlee as I approach who throws her hands up in excitement at the sight of me.

  “It’s about time, bitch!” she slurs, wrapping an arm around the back of my neck.

  “Can we go?” I push up on my tiptoes and yell into her ear over the music pounding from the speakers just feet from us.

  “Why?” She pulls back and hits me with sad puppy dog eyes.

  While Harlee may be a bit of a wild child, she also has a huge heart. I know if I insist on leaving, she will agree; even if it is reluctantly. She’s gone way out of her way to make me feel welcome and to include me, and I know she wouldn’t go through the trouble if she didn’t care.

  “It’s nearly midnight,” I shout, tapping my wrist to indicate the time.

  “Thirty more minutes,” she mouths, pouting out her lip for good measure.

  Not wanting to be the person who ruins her good time, I sigh and nod, knowing that if I want any chance at reinventing myself, I’m going to have to suck it up every now and again and deal with situations I don’t want to be in. I never dreamed how different life would be in Oregon versus West Virginia. It’s almost like living on a different planet entirely.

  A wide smile cracks across her pretty face, and she pulls me into a tight hug, causing me to have to turn my head to avoid my face going directly into her chest. Harlee towers over me, standing around 5’9” which puts her about a full head taller than me.

  Managing to squiggle out of her grasp, I point towards the bar, mouthing that I’m going to be there. She nods and then spins towards Angel, throwing her hands up above her head as she resumes bouncing around the dance floor.

  I keep my gaze down as I cross towards the sleek glass bar that stretches almost the entire length of the left side wall, purposely wanting to avoid another encounter with the gray eyes that still have my stomach twisted in all sorts of knots.

  I slide into the first open stool I can find, which happens to be squeezed between a large bald man and an older woman clearly trying to appear younger than she actually is. I wave my hand trying to catch the attention of the bartender who appears to be looking in every direction but mine.

  He crosses the length of the bar sliding drinks to various customers as he goes. I can’t help but be impressed by his skills. It’s almost like he was bred to tend bar, as ridiculous as that sounds.

  He’s an attractive man: dark hair that’s shaved underneath and a little longer on top, wearing ripped jeans and a fitted t-shirt that clings to his clearly muscular body, and just the right amount of facial hair covering his handsome face; pretty much the exact opposite of my type. The type I usually date anyway; well the one I dated.

  I guess considering I have only ever dated Garrett, I can’t say I really have a usual type. Just the type my parents’ deemed acceptable. I guess that
’s why I spent three years of my life dating a man I’m not even sure I liked.

  I make one more attempt to snag the bartender’s attention before finally settling back into my stool, deciding to wait until he comes my way to ask for a glass of water. Pulling my cell phone out of the small purse draped over my shoulder, I unlock the screen and double check my messages, sighing loudly when I see Garrett has called twice despite the fact that I have asked him repeatedly to give me some time.

  Locking the phone I shove it forcefully back into my bag, not feeling up to dealing with his antics at the present moment.

  “Let me guess, your boyfriend is upset that you’re out with friends.” A smooth deep voice pulls my attention forward.

  I freeze the moment my eyes lock on the gray ones that held me so completely captive outside just a few short minutes ago. I take in a ragged inhale, not prepared for how incredible he looks looming just across the bar from me.

  I knew he was attractive, but seeing him like this— shrouded under the dim lights— he’s more than just another handsome face. There is something so haunted behind those incredible eyes.

  It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that this man is trouble. It seeps from his very pores like an invisible warning label. He’s exactly the type of man I know with complete certainty would break any girl who was foolish enough to offer him her heart.

  “I... Um...” I stutter over my words, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” I breathe, the words barely audible over the loud music and busy chatter of the crowd.

  “No?” He cocks his head to the side, his eyes narrowing in on my face. “Surprising.” He sets an empty glass in front of me, proceeding to fill it with ice and then water.

  “How did you...” I start, but he doesn’t allow me to finish.

  “You’ve been drinking virgin daiquiris all night, and from what I can tell, you’re dying to get the hell out of here. I took a guess.” He gestures to the water.

  I try to seem completely unaffected by the fact that he’s clearly been watching me, at least enough to know what I’ve been drinking. Honestly, just the thought causes my stomach to twist in knots and sends my heart galloping inside of my chest.