Breaking the Plan: Mill Street Series #1

by Calla, Jessica

  The door opened, cutting me off, and in walked Oliver with a bag of food and a bottle of wine.

  He stopped in his tracks when he saw me. “You’re back.” It was a cross between a question and an exclamation as we made eye contact for the first time in weeks. Vi bounced over to him.

  My insides churned as I took him in, remembering the time, our time, when we had Chinese food on the floor and the bottle of wine in the kitchen. He looked perfect, just like himself, standing there biting his lower lip. Maybe someday I’d be able to stand with the two of them and be normal, but that day wasn’t today.

  “I’m on my way out.” I moved toward the door, closer to him.

  Vi took the wine bottle from Ollie and pointed the cork toward me. “You’re staying, Tar. I’ll get the corkscrew.”

  When she disappeared into the kitchen, Ollie’s gaze met mine and he took my forearm with his hand. “You don’t have to go.”

  I thought about fighting, but I didn’t have the energy. Not when he was looking at me, touching me, only inches apart. “I think I do.”

  He stiffened as Vi snuck up behind me. “You’re staying. I haven’t seen you in almost two months. Ollie got sandwiches, and we’ll all share.” She grabbed my overnight bag from my shoulder. “Stop being weirdos.”

  With a quick glance at Oliver, I widened my eyes. He shrugged in response and followed Vi and me to the kitchen.

  Around the kitchen table, Ollie and I were fairly quiet as Violet chattered on about her trip, senior year, and the symphonies she was going to audition for in Massachusetts. I wondered if he was thinking about our pasta dinner and our kitchen sex like I was. I ate the sandwich in record time, then excused myself to go to sleep.

  In my bedroom, I hid under the blankets with my headphones and listened to music, not wanting to risk hearing Violet and Oliver talk about their coupledom or, worse, have sex. Then I remembered who I was, who my parents raised me to be. I was Taryn Michelle Markos, and I didn’t hide under blankets. Markos’s were fighters—survivors—as Dad had said.

  I texted Rachel to meet me at The Study, but she declined. Everyone was cramming for finals, apparently, so I texted someone whom I knew wouldn’t be.

  Me: Any interest in that drink tonight? Just friends and you have to pay. If that’s acceptable, I’m in.

  Grant: I’m at the store. Come when you’re ready. Try to look hot.

  I texted him the middle finger emoji, and he wrote back.

  Grant: Kidding! You always look hot. And just friends.

  With that, I sprung out of bed and checked myself out in the mirror. Hot wouldn’t have been the word I would’ve used to describe myself at that moment. Not to mention I didn’t want to look too hot for Grant and send him mixed messages.

  I rummaged through my closet. Since the weather seemed to jump from summer to winter, I decided on my black knee-length boots, a pair of tights, and my black, hug-my-curves sweater dress. Twisting my hair up, I clipped it to the back of my head, then added a touch of makeup and a pair of earrings. With a last glance in the mirror, I fake smiled at myself. Not too shabby for low maintenance.

  When I put my ear to the door, I didn’t hear any noise. Maybe Vi and Oliver had gone out or gone to sleep. Maybe he’d left. Slowly, I cracked opened the door.

  The coast looked clear, until Vi’s door flung open, and Oliver appeared a foot in front of me, exiting Violet’s room.

  His eyes trailed me, and a ray of heat prickled under my skin.

  When his gaze returned to mine, he raised his eyebrows. “Going out?”

  * * *

  Oliver

  Taryn’s hot meter was up to a ten again in that tight black dress and boots. She was more gorgeous than ever. Whether that was because I hadn’t seen her in weeks or that, despite her love for summer, winter was her season, I didn’t know. All I knew was that when I’d arrived at the apartment and had seen her inside, my blood began to flow again.

  Now, as I assessed how long it would take me to peel that dress off of her, the blood all flowed to one place.

  “You look awesome.” Vi’s voice was like an alarm bell back to reality as she pushed in front of me. “Who’s the guy?”

  Taryn cleared her throat and fidgeted, twisting her phone around in her hands. “Oh, um, Grant?”

  I couldn’t help blurting, “The douchebag at the store?”

  Violet turned to me, and Taryn met my gaze from behind her. Her face morphed into a scowl as I glared at her over Violet’s head. Picturing Taryn with Grant Johnson made me want to crawl into a little ball and die.

  Violet smacked my arm. “He’s always been nice to me.” She turned back to Taryn. “Are you going to The Study?”

  She shrugged, her face softening as she looked at Violet. “I’m not sure. That may not really be his crowd.”

  Vi started to say something, but I shushed her and crossed my arms, puffing out my chest. “He didn’t tell you where he’s taking you?” For weeks she’d been telling me that this Grant guy was harassing her to go out with him. I didn’t like that she’d be alone with him at some unknown place.

  “I asked him if he wanted to go for a drink, and—”

  “You asked him?” I fisted my hands at my sides and resisted the urge to punch a wall, stopped only by the pain shooting up my arm from my injured hand.

  Fire burned through her eyes as she stared at me. “Yes, since you are here with your girlfriend, I thought I’d give you two time alone.”

  Violet looked between us as we stared each other down. “I think the three of us need a sit down. You seem more volatile toward each other than when I left. Did I miss something?”

  Taryn closed her eyes and then opened them again. “No, Violet. I have to go.”

  Violet glared at us as she walked past me back into her room. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” she muttered.

  As soon as Violet was out of the hallway, Taryn darted for the living room. She pulled her cape coat thing off the rack next to the door and swung it over her shoulders. When I reached her, I grasped her arm as she was about to step outside. The smell of vanilla floated to me as she swung around, and an image of her underneath me flashed through my mind.

  As much as I didn’t want her hanging out with that asshole, I wasn’t sure why. Was I really worried about her or was I jealous? Or both?

  Twisting out of my grasp, she growled at me. “What?”

  The rage in me dissipated as I took in every inch of her gorgeous face. The little freckles on the bridge of her nose, her pouty pink lips, her bright green eyes. “Don’t go,” I whispered. “I’m going to talk to Violet, tell her everything, try to save our friendship—”

  “No,” she whisper-shouted. “You will not. I’m not going to do that to her.”

  “You can’t even be around her. You’ve been gone for weeks and haven’t returned her calls. I think she deserves to know the truth about us.”

  “There’s no ‘us,’ Ollie.” She looked past me and moved closer. “Look. We had a nice time together, but that’s it. It’s not meant to be for you and me. We’re graduating in a couple of months, and you and Vi, you’re…” Her face softened, and she huffed, “Compatible.”

  I laughed. “Compatible? Maybe I don’t want to just be ‘compatible’ with someone. Maybe I want to be challenged. Maybe I want to be with someone who’s not so compatible with me.”

  She shushed me. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” She balled her hand into a fist and knocked on my head. “This. Isn’t. You. You are out of your mind, and in a couple of days, you’ll be back to yourself and realize what a mistake we were. Until then you will not, not, tell Violet anything. Do you understand? Can you respect that?”

  “No.”

  She furrowed her brow, her stubbornness apparent. “Oliver.”

  With a sigh, I waved my hand, thinking of my mom’s advice to be patient, kind, respectful, et cetera, et cetera. “Fine. I’ll respect your wishes. But I’m not changing my mind.�
��

  “You will. I know you will. And when you do, Ollie...” She rested a hand on my chest, and my heart pounded double-time under her touch. “Please don’t feel bad about it. I’m a big girl, okay? I know how much you love Violet.”

  “Stop,” I begged. “You don’t know how I feel.”

  “I know that sometimes you let your emotions get the better of you and you fly off the handle. Just settle into things. You and me being together was just both of us flying off the handle.”

  I hated that she thought that I was out of my mind when I’d been with her, when actually it was the first time I’d felt like myself. “I don’t want to lose you, Taryn.”

  She scowled at me and spoke through gritted teeth. “I was never yours.”

  She was wrong because she was mine. For a perfect weekend, we were each other’s, and I had zero doubt about that. I shook my head and whispered, “Don’t go out with Grant.”

  She stood up straight and pointed her chin behind me.

  Violet joined us and weaved her arm through Taryn’s. “Why are you giving her a hard time, Oliver? Let her go. She looks great, and Grant seems nice.”

  They both stared at me. Taryn wanting me to keep quiet, and Violet expecting an answer. I couldn’t say anything. I turned sideways and swooped my arm, unblocking the door and indicating for Taryn to leave.

  “Have fun,” Violet said. With a kiss on Taryn’s cheek, Vi moved back into the apartment.

  As Taryn squeezed past me, her vanilla scent tickled my nose. “Be careful, Bella.”

  She relaxed and turned so we were nose to nose. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

  All I seemed to do was worry about her, think about her, long to be near her. “I do though. And I’m not going to change my mind about us.”

  She huffed, then moved outside onto the landing. I didn’t close the door until she’d disappeared around the bend of the alley.

  Two hours later, I was back at my apartment, lying in my bed alone. Josh was out somewhere, making the place seem quiet and creepy. Violet had tried to get me to stay at the Mill Street apartment, but I’d told her I wasn’t ready to move our relationship forward. Really, I couldn’t be around Violet while I stewed over Taryn out there with Grant.

  I wasn’t sure how to make things right. Someone was going to get hurt in the end. Thing was, Taryn and I were already hurting even though neither of us wanted to drag Violet into it. But I couldn’t believe Taryn when she pushed me to Violet. It had to be a defense mechanism of some sort. None of her actions made sense to me. I hated when things didn’t make sense.

  In an effort to sort through my feelings and make some sort of plan, I started a list. There had to be a way to attack emotions logically. Emotions and logic couldn’t be mutually exclusive, could they?

  I grabbed a legal pad and wrote a few notes. When my writing became frenzied and scribbled, lines all over, I stopped and took a deep breath, examining it. I labeled the paper: Taryn’s Equation for Love. When I realized what I’d created, I grabbed my paper and my keys and headed out to find Taryn.

  She was going to hate me. Or maybe she’d love me. Either way, I wasn’t going to let her avoid me. We were going to deal with our shit. Tonight.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Taryn

  Grant was decent during our time out. He also looked kind of hot. I hadn’t realized he was so tall and broad. His blond hair was a bit too long, and his beard was sort of sexy. Physically, we made a nice couple. Emotionally, there was nothing between us. As we walked into Patrizio’s, I wondered if his end game was to get me to sleep with him anyway.

  Being at Patrizio’s only reminded me of Ollie, so after a couple of drinks, I suggested we move on. Grant agreed and mentioned The Study. We decided to walk, until I stepped outside and the cold wind assaulted my face. Seeing me struggle, he tucked me back into the foyer at the restaurant and ordered us a ride for the few blocks to the bar.

  Sometime while I’d been away, the entire campus had been decorated for Christmas. Each streetlamp was wound with lights, and wreaths and snowflakes hung in high arches across Mill Street. Grant told me that he loved this time of year at the store, despite the holiday hustle, because the place was full of life. When the students left for break, the store and Mill Street turned into a ghost town.

  “What will you do during your time off?” he asked, after the car showed up and we slid into the backseat.

  “Probably nothing. Stay home. Sleep.” Listen to my friend gush about her engagement to the guy I fell in love with. The thought made me ill. “What about you?” I asked, hoping he’d distract me from the thought.

  He shrugged. “I’ll stay here, work, hang with my parents. I’m turning into a boring old man.” His gray eyes met mine.

  “Why don’t you have a girlfriend?” I thought out loud.

  “Too charming.” He winked at me.

  “Ha,” I sputtered. “No seriously. You’re handsome—”

  “Well, thank you,” he said, with a tug on his coat collar.

  “You’ve got money.”

  “Some.”

  “You’d be a great catch. Must be your personality,” I teased. “Maybe you could try being a little less alpha to the women around you.”

  He gasped. “Me? Alpha?”

  “You can be aggressive. I know how to handle it, but some women may not.”

  “Really?” He rubbed his chin. “But it worked on you. You’re here with me.”

  I bobbed my head. He had a point. “I guess I am. Friend zone though.” As nice as Grant could be when he wanted to, he fell flat on my romance scale.

  The car pulled up to The Study and he stepped out, offering a hand to help me too. “You may change your mind,” he said with a smirk.

  “Trust me, Grant. I’m not the one for you.”

  Was I the one for anyone? Maybe the universe thought me undeserving or unprepared. Maybe a little bit of both. But when I turned against the wind toward the door of The Study, I knew the universe was messing with me.

  Oliver stood there, looking cold as he stomped his feet, in nothing but a hoodie, his back against the brick wall of The Study. He held a few sheets of paper in his hands. When he saw me, he stopped fidgeting.

  Grant looked between us as the car drove away. “Uh, you okay, Oliver?”

  “I need to speak to Taryn.” His words were for Grant, but his eyes never left mine.

  Tearing my gaze away, I addressed Grant. “Go ahead. I’ll be right in.” He squinted at me and I nodded. “It’s okay.”

  With a scowl at Ollie, Grant flung open the door to The Study and disappeared inside. The light, heat, and noise drifted out for a second until the door closed again, leaving Ollie and me standing there in silence on the sidewalk.

  Ollie took a step toward me. “Walk with me?”

  I pulled my cape coat tightly around my shoulders. “It’s like twenty below out here.”

  “Not quite. Come on, walking will keep us warm.” He offered me a weak smile. “I have to say something and then I promise I’ll let you go have your crap ass date with that jerkoff.”

  “Not a fan, are you? What’s your deal with him?”

  “My deal with him is that he’s with you. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

  “Oh, so you’re jealous?” The idea that Oliver was jealous pleased me, but the irony didn’t escape me either. “Now imagine he’s your best friend and thinks he’s getting engaged to the woman you want, and now maybe you know how I feel being around you and Violet.”

  He tapped his chin. “So…you want me?”

  “Jesus, Oliver. Why are you here?” I took off down the block, him at my heels.

  He jump-stepped to catch up, matching my long strides and waving his papers at me. “I figured something out.”

  “Do I even want to know?”

  Taking a hold of my arm, he spun me to him. “I felt all mixed up about what was going on with you. Why you were denying us our chance when I was willing to do a
nything for you, for us.”

  “Really? Like buying Violet a diamond? That was for us?” I pressed my lips together at his shocked look and tried not to punch him in the face. “She showed it to me.”

  “What?” He furrowed his brow. “The diamond? She found it?”

  I huffed and started walking back to The Study.

  He caught up to me again. “I ordered that ring over the summer with my earnings from working at the firm. I guess she snooped in my room and found it. I didn’t give it to her Taryn. I’m not going to.”

  My heart sped up and my breath caught in my chest. “You have to set things straight with her because she thinks she’s about to get engaged.” Despite the cold air, it suddenly felt hot, like I needed to strip myself of my layers or pass out.

  “I’m trying to be honest with her, Tar. I told her I wanted time. That I needed space. You think I’d jump from your bed across the hall to hers just like that? I’m not one of the man-whores you date who sleeps around. I’ve only been with two people, both of whom I loved.”

  “Shut up, please,” I barked. “You’re confusing me, and I’m on a date with someone else, I might add. You and me are over. I told you that. Stop muddling everything up.”

  “Funny, I knew you’d say something like that.”

  I stopped moving and crossed my arms. “What?”

  He waved the papers again. “I analyzed the data.” The look on his face turned from confused to confident as he flipped through the papers he held. “I tried to tackle this from an academic point of view. The feelings of you and me. Our equation. Remember that night at Patrizio’s? You said that Vi wasn’t my entire equation? Or something like that. I mean, you were drunk but there was nerd talk about equations, and it got me to thinking—”

  “For Christ’s sake—”

  “Let me explain.” He shoved the papers at me, and I took them. They looked like scribble and a bunch of graphs. “I figured you out.”

  Raising my eyebrows, I shook the papers at him. “Is that what this is? An analysis of me?”