Crazy Stupid Love (Crazy Love #1)

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Crazy Stupid Love (Crazy Love #1) Page 17

by Melissa Toppen


  Garrett tries to talk to me, but I’m too lost in my own thoughts to really process anything he’s saying. After a couple of minutes, he eventually stops trying; the remainder of the car ride a silent one.

  When he finally pulls up outside of my dorm room and slows to a stop, I am so eager to escape the confines of the car that I am ripping open the door before he even has the car in park. Slamming it behind me, I’m crossing the space towards my dorm building within seconds.

  “Kimber, wait,” he hollers after me, but I don’t stop. I just need to get the hell away from all of this. “Kimber.” His voice sounds directly behind me just moments before his hand closes down around my bicep, jerking me to a stop.

  “Would you stop already?” he grinds out, spinning me to face him. “I know things didn’t go as planned tonight, and I’m sorry about that.” He releases my arm, his fingers gently gliding across the part he was just squeezing. “But I have something to say, and you need to hear it.”

  “Garrett don’t,” I start but he cuts me off.

  “I’m still in love with you, Kimber, that hasn’t changed.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t feel the same.”

  “Yes you do,” he insists. “Look, you’re rebelling right now and you know your parents’ want us together, so that’s the last thing you want to give them. But forget about them for a moment and think about me, about us. I know you miss the way we used to be.”

  “That’s just it, Garrett, I don’t. I’m sorry.” I drop my tone, guilt creeping its way into the pit of my stomach.

  “I don’t believe that. You love me, Kimber. You know that as much as I do. You just need to remember how great we are together.”

  It seems like the seconds disappear between him closing in on me to the point where his lips meet mine. The moment the connection is made, I know it’s wrong. Every single thing about it feels wrong.

  “What are you doing?” I push at his chest.

  “I’m reminding you.” He dips his head again, only this time, I’m prepared and I turn my face to the side to avoid his kiss.

  It isn’t until I do, that I see him: Decklan. He’s standing just a few yards away, close enough that I know he can see me under the well-lit dorm entrance but far enough away that I doubt he grasps what is actually taking place.

  “Stop.” I push Garrett as hard as I can before spinning towards Decklan.

  I know the second I reach him what he’s thinking. Betrayal and anger line his features as he turns away and stalks towards his bike which is parked just feet away.

  “Decklan, wait.” I finally reach him as he climbs onto his bike and slides his helmet on. “It’s not what you think.” I pant, trying to catch my breath.

  “No?” He cocks his head to the side, his face hidden behind the visor of the helmet making it impossible to read his reaction. “Because to me it looks like you were making out with your ex-boyfriend who you just happened to forget to tell me was here.” He fires the engine to life, drowning out my attempt to explain.

  “Decklan, please,” I yell over the noise, panic seizing my entire body as he backs out of the parking lot and speeds off on his bike without once looking in my direction again.

  A sob tears through my chest and I kick at the ground, furious that I even put myself in this position to begin with. Spinning I stalk back towards Garrett who has not moved from the spot I left him in.

  “Get out the hell out of here, Garrett.” I seethe, stepping directly in front of him.

  Without another word I rear back and swing, my hand connecting with his cheek on a loud smack that echoes through the night air.

  “And do not ever come back here again.” I ignore his expression of shock and confusion as I spin and quickly walk away.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Kimber

  “Decklan, it's Kimber. Please call me back. I can explain last night. I know what you’re probably thinking, but I can assure you it’s not at all what it probably looked like. Please.” I sigh into the phone, not sure what else to say. “Just call me.”

  I press the end button and drop my phone onto the bed, rubbing my eyes with the back of my hands. I’m exhausted, drained. I got very little sleep last night having spent most of it trying to reach Decklan.

  It’s been nearly twenty-four hours and he hasn’t answered even one of my calls or texts. I even get the run around when I call the bar. It’s beyond frustrating. If I had my own car I would probably have already driven to Portland myself. I’m just not prepared to pay a cab to drive me all the way there just to have him refuse to see me, which I get the feeling is likely what would happen.

  “No luck?” Harlee exits the bathroom, her wet hair knotted up in a large bath towel.

  “None.” I sigh. “I just don’t get it. Why won’t he at least give me the chance to explain?”

  “Put yourself in his shoes, girl. How would you feel if you showed up at the bar to surprise him and saw him kissing his ex-girlfriend which he purposely didn’t tell you was in town? Would you not think the worst?”

  Even I can’t argue with that logic. I know I need to just give him some time to cool off. But having him think the worst of me is eating me from the inside out. I need him to know the truth and not the version of truth he thinks is fact, but the actual truth.

  “Just give it some time. Decklan is crazy about you, anyone can see that. He’ll come around.” She flips her head over, rubbing the towel through her long blonde hair to soak up any excess water left over from the shower.

  “But what if he doesn’t?” I meet her gaze when she straightens her posture, dropping the towel onto the back of the desk chair.

  “He will,” she reassures me. “Trust me, I get how hard it is to just let things be. I’m experiencing a taste of that myself, but you can’t force this. You can’t make him listen to you if he’s not ready to.”

  “Still no word from Gavin?” I gladly change the course of the conversation, picking up on her hidden meaning.

  “Nope.” She shakes her head, running her fingers through her tangled hair. “I don’t think I will either. If he hasn’t reached out to me by now, I don’t think he will. I guess it was only a matter of time before someone gave me a taste of my own medicine.” She gives me a sad smile.

  “So where are you going tonight again?” I ask, having been in too much of a fog when she told me earlier to really retain the information.

  “Woodfire Grill.” She turns, grabbing the lotion from her nightstand. “I’d invite you but it’s not really a group thing.”

  “You’re going on a date?” I ask, honestly a little surprised considering she’s been so hung up on Gavin these past couple of weeks.

  “You remember Bryan?” she asks.

  “The hot surfer guy from your English class?” I question, knowing exactly who she’s referring to. He’s only been following Harlee around like a lost puppy since the first week of classes.

  “That’s the one,” she confirms. “Well, he finally talked me into going to dinner with him.”

  “Good for you.” I smile. “He’s probably over the moon.”

  “He’s a sweetheart and totally hot. I don’t why I never really saw it before,” she admits.

  “Me either.” I agree.

  “Alright, I have to finish getting ready.” She grabs her makeup bag from the top of the dresser. “You good?”

  “I’m good,” I lie, giving her a forced smile.

  “Good.” She nods, disappearing back into the bathroom.

  ****

  It’s been almost a week...

  A week and still no word from Decklan. I have stewed, imagined the worst, and even resorted to drowning myself in a bottle of wine with Harlee last night.

  I’ve reached my breaking point.

  Decklan is going to talk to me whether he likes it or not.

  Pulling Angel’s car into the lot behind Deviants, I kill the engine and slide out, my stomach knotted so tightly I feel like I might vomit at any mome
nt. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. Maybe because I know I’m not wanted here, or maybe it’s because this is so completely out of character for me that I don’t know how to reel myself in.

  Walking around to the front entrance, I let out a deep sigh when the door opens with no resistance. Knowing they don’t open for another fifteen minutes, I wasn’t sure if it would be unlocked. Taking another deep inhale I step inside, temporarily blinded by the dimly lit bar that is a stark contrast to the late afternoon sun. Blinking rapidly, it takes several long seconds before my surroundings come into view.

  I jump slightly when Val suddenly appears behind the counter, standing from her crouching position where she’s likely stocking the coolers that sit beneath the bar.

  “Kimber.” She spots me instantly. “What are you doing here?” Her tone is casual which makes me think she has no idea about what’s been going on which I use to my advantage.

  “I was just stopping in to surprise Decklan, is he home?” I ask, stopping directly next to the bar.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him. But you’re welcome to go check.” She gestures to the door that leads up to Decklan’s apartment. “If he’s up there will you let him know I need him to call Louie’s; they shorted us an entire case of top shelf.”

  “Sure.” I smile, knowing it’s probably the last thing I will think of if I actually get to lay eyes on him.

  “Thanks.” She nods, turning her back to me as she continues prepping the bar.

  Without another word I head up to Decklan’s apartment, my heartbeat increasing with each step I climb, feeling like it might pound out of my chest by the time I reach the top. I stop directly in front of his door, not sure if I have the courage to knock.

  I stare at the chipped wood for several long seconds before finally lifting my hand and rapping it gently against the door. I immediately hear footsteps as they cross the room, and my breath catches in my throat when I hear the lock click.

  This is it.

  There’s no going back now.

  Taking another deep inhale, I falter slightly when Paxton appears in front of me.

  “Kimber.” He makes no attempt to move out of the doorway or to invite me in. “It’s really not a good time.”

  “Is he here?” I ignore his comment.

  “He is, but you don’t want to see him right now.” His voice is gentle, but I can tell by the look on his face how serious he is.

  “I think I’ll be the judge of that,” I say, stepping towards him, my attempts to get inside immediately thwarted when he stands firm in the doorway not allowing me to pass.

  “Trust me on this one, Kimber,” he warns. “He’s in a rough way right now, and there’s no reasoning with him when he gets like this.”

  “I appreciate the heads up; now move out of my way, Paxton.” I stand my ground, prepared to stand here all day if that’s what it takes to see Decklan.

  “Okay.” He steps back, holding his hands up. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He grabs his jacket from the hook next to the door and steps out of the apartment as I step inside. “Good luck. Who knows, maybe you can talk some sense into him,” he says, disappearing down the stairs.

  Confused by his cryptic warnings, I slowly close the door and turn to scan the apartment. I jump slightly when a loud bang sounds from the bathroom and the door flies open, a shirtless Decklan stumbling out, a nearly empty bottle of whiskey clutched in his fingers.

  “Decklan?” His name falls from my lips as I take in his state.

  The moment his eyes hit mine it’s clear to see what Paxton was talking about. His natural messy hair is an unruly mess of tangles, his facial hair is bushier than normal, and his incredible gray eyes have lost a bit of their luster, dark circles now lining them. He’s dressed only in a pair of jeans hanging loosely on his hips, his incredible toned body otherwise on full display.

  “What the fuck?” he slurs, clearly drunk, his staggered movements giving that away before he even opened his mouth. “What are you doing here?” He stumbles towards the couch, collapsing onto it the moment he reaches it.

  “You haven’t returned any of my calls; I didn’t really have any other choice,” I say, not moving from my place just feet from the door.

  “Perhaps that should have given you the hint.” He lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a long gulp.

  “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” I ask, crossing the space towards him, gesturing to the drink in his hand.

  “I’ll decide when I’ve had enough,” he snaps, his tone harsher than I’ve ever heard before. “I still don’t even know why the fuck you’re here.”

  “Because I wanted to see you.” I hesitantly take a seat on the ottoman just a few feet from him. “I needed to apologize.”

  “I don’t want to hear it.” He avoids my gaze, dropping his head onto the back of the couch as he stares up at the ceiling.

  “Well you’re going to hear it whether you like it or not,” I bite, my frustration mounting.

  “Had you let me explain the other night, you would have known that Garrett pushed himself on me. I didn’t even kiss him back. Hell, I was trying to get him off of me. The only reason I was even with Garrett was because I was so desperate to get away from my father. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you he was in town, too. I see now how that looks, but you have to believe that I feel nothing for him. He’s out of my life, for good this time.”

  “I don’t care.” He meets my gaze, his eyes dark.

  “Really? You don’t care? Is that why you’re sitting here drowning yourself in a bottle of whiskey?” I lean forward, able to snag the bottle from his hand before he even has a chance to react.

  “What the fuck, Kimber,” he growls, struggling to get off the couch in time to stop me from dumping the remainder of the bottle into the sink.

  He reaches me just as I slam the now empty container onto the counter.“You realize I live above a bar right?” He grabs the bottle. “I’ll just fucking get more.”

  He swings the bottle loosely between his fingers before throwing it forcefully across the room. It hits the far wall on a loud crash, the glass shattering against the exposed brick before scattering across the floor.

  “Are you kidding me right now?” I gape at him.

  “Do I fucking look like I’m kidding?” he challenges.

  “Why are you doing this?” I drop my tone, tears welling behind my eyes.

  “Because this is who I am.” His words are a warning. “This is the real me. You like what you see? Is this what you want?” He steps up directly in front of me, his whiskey breath hot on my face.

  “I want you, but not like this.” I meet his gaze, my hands coming to rest on his bare chest.

  “Well too bad,” he growls.

  “Is this really all about Garrett?” I call after him as he spins away from me.

  “This has nothing to fucking do with your stupid fucking pussy ass ex-boyfriend.”

  “Then why are treating me like this?” I ask, hating how weak my voice sounds.

  He stops in the middle of the living room and turns back towards me, his expression pained.

  “Because I can’t do this anymore.”

  “Why?” I plead for him to give me some sort of explanation.

  “Don’t you fucking get it?” His voice rips through the space of the room. “Seeing you with that asshole showed me that you have the power to hurt me.”

  “I’m sorry, that was never my intention,” I start.

  “It fucking hurt me because I’m in love with you.” His words break in the middle as he lets out a defeated exhale.

  “What?” I can feel the heat rush to my cheeks.

  “I love you, Kimber, and I can’t fucking love you.” His words feel more like an apology than a confession.

  “I don’t understand.” I take a couple steps towards him, but he steps away when I get too close.

  “I’m a fucking tornado, Kimber. I will rip through your life and destroy every singl
e thing you love.”

  “I don’t believe that.” I shake my head.

  “Believe it,” he warns. “I always hurt the people who are closest to me the most. I could never forgive myself for hurting you.”

  “But you are hurting me,” I plead, wiping away a tear that escapes my eye.

  “It’s nothing compared to how badly I would hurt you if we don’t end this.”

  “Decklan, please.”

  “This is over, Kimber.” He breaks my gaze, crossing the room towards the front door.

  “You can’t do this. Being with you is my choice.”

  “And ending it is mine.” He rips open the door.

  “Decklan.” My voice barely breaks the surface as tears now flow freely down my cheeks.

  “Leave, Kimber.”

  “No.” I refuse. “I’m not going to just walk away, I can’t.”

  “You don’t have a choice. Now leave.” His tone is absolute.

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “I said get the fuck out!” he screams. The slur of the whiskey makes his voice sound so much more vicious than it probably would otherwise. “Now!” I jump when he screams again.

  “Please.” I am desperate at this point. Fear grips at my chest nearly paralyzing me on the spot.

  “So help me god, Kimber, if you don’t get the fuck out of my apartment I will remove you from it,” he threatens.

  “No, you won’t,” I challenge, tensing when he storms towards me, his hand closing down on my forearm as he pulls me through the room.

  “Remember me like this.” He forces me onto the landing at the top of the stairs. “And don’t ever come back here again.” The door slams in my face before I have a chance to say anything.

  I stand in front of that door for what feels like an eternity, somehow trying to convince myself that this is all some kind of sick joke and that any moment he’s going to open the door and pull me into his arms.

  I wait for that moment, but that moment never comes.

  Convincing yourself of a truth that your mind refuses to believe is somewhat like falling into a nightmare. Deep down the only way you can cope with it is to make yourself believe it isn’t real.

 

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