Crazy Stupid Love (Crazy Love #1)

by Melissa Toppen

  “Good guess,” I observe, lifting the glass hesitantly to my lips before taking a small drink, just needing a reason not to speak considering how flustered I feel.

  “You work here?” I ask, slowly lowering the glass back to the bar, trying to figure out how in the world I would have missed him behind the bar considering I have spent a good deal of my night watching the people that were crowding it.

  “No, I just randomly pretend I do so I can talk to beautiful women,” he says, tilting his head back on a light laugh when he sees I take him at his word. “I’m kidding.” He shakes his head, his smile revealing perfectly straight white teeth.

  “Oh.” I flush again, embarrassed by how gullible I must seem but even more affected by the fact that he just implied he finds me beautiful.

  “Yo, Deck.” The bartender steps up next to the man in front of me, resting his hand on his shoulder as he leans in to say something under his breath.

  Immediately his gray eyes dart towards the stage where the D.J. is set up, scouring the crowd before apparently finding what he’s looking for.

  “You’ll have to excuse me...” He turns his attention back to me the moment the bartender walks away.

  “Kimber,” I answer, realizing he’s waiting for my name.

  “Kimber,” he says the name slowly, smiling with the way it flows from his lips. “It was nice talking to you, Kimber.”

  “You, too,” I say, not getting a chance to say anymore before he’s heading out from behind the bar, immediately disappearing into the crowd.

  I turn my eyes to the left just in time to see Harlee skipping towards me, spinning mid-hop managing to bump into a few annoyed people in the process before finally reaching me.

  “Best night ever!” she exclaims, dropping her arm over my shoulder. “Angel, girl let’s get this show on the road,” she screams behind her, moments before Angel appears.

  My stomach immediately drops when I realize they are ready to leave. I was all but begging my way out of here twenty minutes ago, and now the last thing I want to do is leave. I didn’t even get a chance to ask him his name, other than hearing the bartender refer to him as Deck.

  The weird thing is I can’t figure out why I even care. It’s not like I plan on ever coming back here again. Though the idea of doing just that definitely crosses my mind as I follow Angel and Harlee out of the bar, unable to resist glancing behind me one last time in hopes of catching just one more glimpse of the man who quite literally rendered me speechless.

  Chapter Two

  Decklan

  “Seriously dude, again with this shit.” I kick Gavin’s leg nudging him awake. “How many times have I asked you to take your shit home?” I hover over him as he fights to pry his eyes open, the brunette passed out across his chest not even budging. “This is our place of business, not a fucking motel.”

  “Drank too much. Couldn’t drive.” He finally manages to get his eyes open enough to peer down at the naked woman on top of him.

  “Then you should have put her ass in a cab and crashed upstairs,” I say, referring to the apartment above the bar that has been my home for the past four years.

  I moved up there after me and Gavin sunk every dime we had into buying this bar, unable to afford the lease on the building and a place to live at the same time. Of course, back then it was a complete dump. Nothing like the hot spot Gavin and I have managed to turn it into. I could have moved out a long time ago, but honestly, it’s not a bad space, and I like being so close in case anything happens.

  “And crash on that lumpy ass couch of yours.” Gavin stretches, sliding the woman from his chest as he pushes into a sitting position.

  “And this is any better? You realize how many nasty fuckers walk on this floor?”

  “Yeah, but at least down here I have something to make the sleeping arrangements more accommodating. Man, she’s out,” he says, gesturing to the woman now lying face down on the floor. “Besides, it’s not like you haven’t done it before.”

  “Fucked in here, yes. Slept on this nasty ass floor, fuck no.” I shake my head. “Shay hasn’t even cleaned yet. You’re literally laying in filth.”

  “Just the way I like it.” He smirks, nudging the woman next to him. “Hey. Hey.” He repeats, shaking her by the shoulder.

  She lets out a small groan but makes no attempt to move.

  “Hey.” He continues shaking. “You gotta go...” He pauses. “Fuck, dude, I don’t know her name.” He laughs, scratching the side of his head.

  “I don’t give a fuck what her name is; get her the fuck out of here,” I demand, stepping past them to slide behind the bar and gather the money from the previous night’s business.

  Laying the cash on the counter, I immediately grab a lowball glass and the nearest whiskey bottle, pouring the liquid to the rim before putting the bottle back. Raising the glass to my lips, I take a deep inhale and then pour the contents down my throat. The burn is horrific but just what I need; something to dull me a bit.

  Waking up is always my least favorite part of the day. That’s when everything comes flooding back. It gets easier as the day progresses and I have time to numb it away, but then the next morning it returns full force, same as the last.

  Deciding I’m going to need one more, I fill the glass again, my eyes following Gavin as he half carries the still drunk girl towards the bar.

  “You could fucking help me,” he grunts, sliding the woman onto a bar stool.

  She immediately leans forward, groaning loudly as she rests her forehead against the bar in front of her.

  “I’m not the one that stuck my dick in her.” I shake my head before lifting the glass back to my lips, the second drink going down much smoother than the first.

  “Whatever dick. Can you at least call a cab?” He slides onto the stool next to her, lifting my glass to his nose. “Starting off with the hard shit today, that can’t be good,” he observes.

  “I promised Mom I would meet her and Trey for lunch. I don’t know why I even fucking agreed to it. I know exactly how it’s going to go.” I sigh, considering pouring a third drink but quickly deciding against it. I do have to drive after all.

  “Then why did you?” he questions, knowing how difficult the relationship between me and my older brother has been over the past few years.

  “Because she’s my mother, one of the only people in my family that doesn’t treat me like I’m just a piece of fucking scum the world would be better off without. At least for my sake, she pretends not to feel that way.” The thought has me pouring another drink despite my decision to call it at two.

  The moment the liquid seers my throat I feel my nerves start to calm; the potency of the whiskey making everything a bit more tolerable.

  “So are you going to tell me who that girl was, the one I saw you staring at all night? I gotta say I’m surprised she wasn’t doing the walk of shame out of your apartment this morning.” He laughs, signally that I pour him a shot from the bottle still sitting in front of me.

  “One, it wasn’t like that. I was just really fucking intrigued by what someone like her was doing here. She seemed so out of place. Two, you know I don’t let women sleep over,” I say, sitting a clean glass in front of him before filling it with whiskey.

  “Well I don’t know why it wasn’t like that; that bitch was hot.” He smirks, causing me to have to swallow down my knee-jerk reaction to slam his head down onto the bar.

  I can’t justify the reaction, nor do I have the mental capacity right now to even really think about it. She may have been stunning but also entirely out of my league. I know the difference between a fuckable woman and one that is simply off limits. She’s way too innocent to handle me, and I don’t have the time to worry about staining a perfect canvas. I don’t need any more guilt on my fucking conscience.

  “Whatever dude.” I shake off the thought, grabbing my cell from my pocket before punching in the phone number for the local cab company. It takes me less than thirty seconds to
secure a car for Gavin’s half passed out one-nighter. “They’ll be here in ten,” I say, sliding the phone back into my jeans before collecting the cash on the bar.

  “Thanks, dude.”

  “Whatever. Just make sure you’re here to let Shay in so he can get this place back into shape for tonight. And please, for the love of fuck, take a shower. You fucking stink,” I say, exiting the bar before Gavin can say anymore.

  ****

  The vibration of my motorcycle beneath me soothes my nerves during the long two-hour ride to Springfield. I weave in and out of traffic, the visor of my helmet left open so I can feel the wind whip against my face.

  It’s not often that I get to take my bike out for such long trips and I have to admit, while I’m dreading the destination, I am rather enjoying the ride.

  While the October temperatures have dropped into the sixties over the past couple of weeks, I don’t feel even the slightest chill. The whiskey is still running warm in my veins despite the loss of its effects on my mind.

  Pulling my bike into a side street parking spot, I power off the engine and slide the helmet from my head, running a hand through my tangled hair. Pulling out a cigarette, I light it and take a deep inhale, loving the way the smoke fills my lungs, the burn that engulfs my chest. Taking another long drag, I look around, taking in the scenery. The area packed with college aged kids carrying laptop bags and books, no doubt heading towards the nearest coffee shop to congregate.

  Having grown up just ten minutes from Eugene, I’m used to the atmosphere. The University of Oregon draws in a younger crowd that dominates this part of town; primarily the reason why I avoid coming out this way. Well that, and the fact that I have no desire to return home or to relive the demons that haunt this place.

  I relive that same hell every morning just by opening my eyes. I don’t need any additional reminders telling me what I lost. What I broke.

  Climbing off my motorcycle, I take one last drag before dropping the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out with my boot. Latching the helmet to the handlebars, I straighten my black leather jacket before sliding on my aviator sunglasses. I’ll do anything I can to conceal my identity. Not that there’s anyone around who knows or gives a fuck who I am, but I don’t even like risking it.

  I spot my mother sitting at a round table in the outdoor patio area at Lovett’s, her favorite little diner, the menu just inches from her face. Her blonde hair is shorter than the last time I saw her and peppered with more gray than I remember. I have to remind myself that it’s been almost a year, since last Christmas to be exact.

  Visions of that night flood through my mind. Trey, the shit he fucking spewed, the way my mom cried. It was almost as bad as that night with Conner. I shake off the memory, taking a deep breath as I approach her.

  “Mother,” I say, pulling out the chair next to her.

  She immediately lowers the menu and hits me with gentle eyes and a sweet smile.

  “Oh, my sweet boy. Look at you,” she says, gesturing for me to sit. “You look so... grown up.” She pats the back of my hand when I settle down next to her, my eyes immediately falling to the only other chair placed at the small round table.

  “Tell me, how are you?” she asks, ignoring my obvious tension.

  “I’m good. Things are good.”

  Lies. Lies. Lies.

  What I really should be saying is that I’m a fucking alcoholic who fucks everything that moves just to feel something other than my own pain.

  “And Gavin? How are things at the bar?” She does her best to fill the silence.

  “The bar’s good. Gavin is, well Gavin.” I shrug and she laughs, knowing Gavin really well from our childhood.

  With as much as he stayed at my house, hell we were practically brothers. Not to mention that his parents took me in for the last half of my senior year until I graduated and could get the fuck out of here.

  “Business is good then?” She pulls my attention from the past back to her.

  “Really well.” I stop, turning my gaze to the waitress when she steps up next to my mother.

  “Can I get you something to drink Sir?” she asks, her eyes immediately widening when they land on me.

  Well, fuck me. If it isn’t the sweet little thing from last night, only she looks much different in the bright afternoon sun; almost angelic. Instead of sporting a tight little dress that she clearly wasn’t comfortable wearing, she’s more casual today; wearing a long flowing white top and dark skinny jeans, her long blonde waves pulled back into a messy bun.

  “It’s Kimber, isn’t it?” I say, smiling when her lips part in surprise.

  “Hi.” She seems to regain her composure. “It’s nice to see you again.” She takes another long pause. “Can I get you something to drink?” She nervously tucks a stray curl behind her ear, the movement causing my stomach muscles to clench tightly.

  She’s so fucking innocent. So pure. I can think of a hundred ways I could corrupt that tight little body of hers. A hundred different positions I could fuck her in. Just the thought of her screaming my name makes my groin twitch.

  Clearing my throat, I realize I haven’t responded.

  “What do you have on tap?” I ask, ignoring my mother’s gaze and the look of disapproval that is surely etched across her face.

  Kimber nervously rambles off a list she clearly is still trying to memorize, going back twice to add to the non-domestic beer list before I finally just settle on a Guinness. She smiles nervously and walks away, my gaze immediately falling to her backside when she does. It takes everything in me to keep my posture casual when every muscle in my body seems to tighten.

  Thankfully I’m still wearing my sunglasses because my mother doesn’t seem to notice my mental stray. She picks up the conversation exactly where we left off, asking more about the bar, clearly just trying to take an interest in what I’m doing when she probably couldn’t care less.

  I catch sight of Kimber just minutes later when she reappears onto the patio, a large frosted beer mug in her hand. When she leans over and sets it next to me, I get a waft of her scent; vanilla with a hint of something sweet that I can’t quite pinpoint; coconut maybe. I breathe in deeply, letting the intoxicating smell linger in my nostrils for a moment longer. Yes, definitely coconut. It’s a light smell, refreshing, and so very fitting for her.

  “Is there anything else I can get for you or are you still waiting for the rest of your party?” She turns her attention to my mother.

  “We will wait.” She starts but then retracts when she catches sight of Trey making his way towards the table. “Scratch that. There he is,” she says more to Trey than Kimber.

  “Water with lemon,” Trey instructs Kimber without even batting an eye in her direction. I don’t know why but the action makes me want to shove his fucking face into the table.

  She nods and quickly exits without a word.

  “Decklan. You’re looking, well...” He takes a long pause. “The same,” he says judgingly, his eyes taking in my appearance.

  “We can’t all be perfect now can we?” I give him a tight smile and gesture to his black sweater and khaki pants.

  Fuck. With his short side swept hair and that ridiculous getup, he looks like he just stepped out of a prep school magazine. Fucking tool.

  “Well it wouldn’t hurt some of us to try,” he says, kissing mom on the cheek before taking the seat between us to my left.

  “You got something you want to fucking say?” I spout, feeling already too on edge for his bullshit.

  “Oh, I’ve got a lot of things I’d like to say, little brother.”

  “Then fucking say it, Trey.” I clasp my hands together to keep myself from lunging in his direction.

  “Now boys.” My mother immediately interferes when Kimber reappears at my brother’s side, setting his water on the table.

  “Ridiculous,” Trey adds on, fueling my temper to near its breaking point. “It should have been you.” He mumbles under his breath, breakin
g the last tiny thread holding me in place.

  “You think I don’t wish that every fucking day, Trey? You think I don’t wish it had been me?” I growl, my voice carrying far enough to draw the attention of the other patrons dining on the patio.

  “Decklan. Trey.” My mother’s voice turns firm. “That’s enough.”

  The moment I catch sight of Kimber still standing next to the table, a look of what I can only describe as fear across her pretty face, I feel my temper give a bit. Hell, I almost feel bad for nearly losing it in front of her. Though I’m not entirely sure why I care.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Trey speaks directly to my mother, but I keep my eyes locked firmly on Kimber who seems to shrink a bit under my gaze.

  “I’m going to give you all a few minutes,” She finally says, backing slowly away from the table before quickly spinning on her heel and disappearing back inside.

  “Can we please just get through one meal as a family?” My mother pulls my attention back to her. “Decklan, we never see you anymore. I just want to enjoy an afternoon with both of my children.”

  “Of course, Mother,” Trey speaks again.

  Fucking kiss ass.

  “Sorry, Mom,” I grumble, lifting the beer to my lips, draining the contents of my glass in a matter of seconds.

  Chapter Three

  Kimber

  What are the odds?

  What are the odds that out of all the restaurants between here and Portland he would walk into the one that I just happen to work at? Standing just inside the wall that separates the indoor dining area from the outdoor patio, I chance a peek in the direction of the man I now know as Decklan.

  Decklan.

  Even his name is sexy as sin.

  My God, this man is all kinds of gorgeous, and of course, I’m fumbling around like a babbling idiot, unable to keep my thoughts straight when he’s staring at me through his aviator sunglasses. I don’t have to see his brilliant gray eyes through the dark lenses to feel the intensity of his stare behind them.