by Chelsea Fine
At over six feet tall with broad shoulders and several tattoos, Jack looks intimidating. But really he’s a big softie. I hardly ever see him in a mood other than happy. So this angry version of Jack is a new experience for me. A very hot experience.
He catches me looking at him and tips his chin. His anger dissipates for a brief second as a lopsided smile hitches up the corner of his mouth, but then he turns his attention back to his phone call and clenches his fist before ending the call.
Interesting.
He shoves his phone into his back pocket and heads my way.
“What’s up?” I say. “You seem upset.”
He shrugs. “Nothing. Just family shit.”
I snort. “God. Yes. I have plenty of that.”
He nods and our eyes lock and hold. One beat. Two.
I hate this part of our friendship; the part that reminds me of what happened between us last year when we got drunk and carried away one very steamy night. The memory shouldn’t still turn me on like it does. But Jack and those goddamn silver eyes of his are hard not to respond to.
We never talk about it, which is better, but in moments like this, when his eyes are on mine with such command, I can almost feel his hands back on my body.
“Here you go.” Cody returns with the schedule book for me to sign. “I switched our shifts and marked you down as on vacation.”
“Thanks,” I say, grabbing the book and initialing by my traded shifts.
“Hey Jack.” Cody nods at him. “What can I get you to drink?”
“Just a beer,” Jack says. Then turns to me. “So where are you going on vacation?” His mouth is so close to my hand that his warm breath skitters up my arm and sends a jolt of hot want directly into my pants.
Damn him.
On second thought, damn me for being such a swooner.
I’m not usually like this. I swear it. Guys are the last thing I give priority to in my life. It goes chocolate, tattoos, a hundred other things… and then men. Because women don’t need men to have a full life. And I’m living proof of that.
I keep my eyes on the book. “New Orleans to visit my grandma.”
He nods. “Is she dying again?”
Even my friends know how ridiculous my grandmother’s yearly death threats are.
“Yep.” I pop the p. “The drama queen just won’t hand the spotlight over gracefully.”
He smirks. “Like you’d wait to be handed anything, you swiper.”
Ah, he knows me so well. I’m not very patient and if I want something I usually just take it.
Cody sets Jack’s beer down and asks me, “Are you flying out tonight?”
“Nah.” I finish signing the book and hand it back to him. “I’m driving there so I’ll leave in the morning.”
Jack swings his head to me and a slight wrinkle forms between his eyes. “You’re driving all the way to Louisiana?”
“Yeah. Pfft. I’m not spending hundreds of dollars on a last-minute plane ticket. Grandma needs to give me at least a month’s warning next time she decides to keel over.”
Jack takes a sip of his beer, but continues looking displeased.
I hate it when he stares at me like I’m doing something wrong.
“What?” I snap.
He shrugs. “That’s just a long trip to make on your own.”
“Yeah, well. Good thing I don’t mind driving.” I look at Cody. “Thanks for covering for me. I owe you. Later Jack.” I turn to leave just as a drunk guy stumbles into me, knocking me back into Jack’s chest.
Jack’s hands instantly go to my hips, and my hips instantly want to yank his hands down my pants. My hips can’t be trusted.
“Watch it,” I say to the drunk guy, giving him a little shove forward so I have room to pull away from Jack.
Jack’s fingers slowly slide off my hips, trailing lower just before ending contact with my body and my eyelids lower in want.
Clearly, I need to have sex. Not with Jack—that would be a disaster—but with someone. Soon. So I can sex Jack out of my system. Again.
I’ve been trying to sex away Jack a lot lately.
I blink up and find Jack’s eyes watching mine. He saw my moment of weakness; that split second of desire. Dammit.
“Right. So I’m going to go.” I step back and act casual. “I’ll see you when I get back. Later.”
I spin around and weave through the crowd to the exit, feeling Jack’s eyes on me the whole time.
2
Jack
There are only two things I don’t ever speak of: my crazy family and my history with Jenna. And both just fell in my lap. Literally.
I watch Jenna work her way to the front door and can’t help the unease slipping through my veins. I don’t like the idea of her going on such a long road trip by herself. She’s independent and smart and I know she can take care of herself, but that doesn’t lessen my concern any.
Her long dark hair is pulled back into a high ponytail revealing her golden eyes and high cheekbones. Her shoulders are bare in the strapless shirt she’s wearing, showing off the endless tattoos she has covering her skin. She’s beautiful and wild and I love to watch her walk.
Her hips swing as she moves out the door and my gut tightens. If anything were to ever happen to her, if someone ever tried to hurt her, I… well I can’t even think about it. Which is why I can’t think about Jenna all alone in a car on a series of desolate freeways for three days.
I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.
My friend Ethan plops down in the barstool next to me. “Hey, man.”
“Hey.” I take a swig of my beer.
“Was that Jenna I just saw leaving?” He nods at the door.
“Yep.”
Ethan smirks. “What did you do to piss her off this time?”
I grin. I do have a way of getting under Jenna’s skin. I can’t help it. If she would just be a grown-up and address what happened between us last year then maybe I’d back down. But instead she acts like nothing ever happened and dammit, that’s just insulting.
Because she’s not just some girl I hooked up with a while back. She’s Jenna, for God’s sake. But she wants to pretend like we’re nothing more than friends so I go along with it and occasionally piss her off just because it’s something. It’s some sign that I matter more than she lets on.
“Surprisingly enough,” I say, “I didn’t do anything. This time.”
Ethan shakes his head. “I don’t know why you poke at her the way you do.”
“Because it’s fun.” I shrug. “And it’s not like she doesn’t piss me off just as much.”
He rolls his eyes. “Are you talking about the Nelson guy again?”
“Fuck yes. I hate that guy and Jenna just goes off and sleeps with him.” I spin my beer mug around. “I hate the name Nelson.”
“Yeeeah.” Ethan purses his lips. “You care way too much about who Jenna sleeps with. That’s not healthy man.”
“I know.”
Ethan orders a drink from Cody while I take a few chugs of beer. I really shouldn’t care who Jenna sleeps with, especially since I’m no angel myself. But damn. I can’t help it. I don’t like her sharing her body with anyone else.
My phone rings again. I look at the caller ID and groan.
Earlier, I was on the phone with my frantic mother. I’ve been fielding phone calls from my family members for a week now and it’s grating on my nerves.
My mom was a wreck, babbling about how concerned she is for my brother, Drew. I thought I’d settled her down enough to tide her over for a few hours at least, but now my brother, Samson, is calling. Again. Not a good sign.
I grudgingly take the call and snap, “What?”
“Easy, bro,” says Samson. “I’m just the messenger.”
“Yeah, well I’m getting sick of all your messages.”
“What would you rather I do? Not call you? Let Drew go down on his own?”
I let out a frustrated sigh. “No.”
/>
“That’s what I thought. Drew’s in deep trouble this time, I can feel it. And Mom’s losing her shit. I need you out here.”
“No way.” I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “I left for a reason, Samson. I’m not coming back.”
His voice is strained like he’s gritting his teeth. “And just what the hell am I supposed to do without you? You know I don’t have the pull or the power that you do.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Have Drew give me a call. I’ll straighten him out.”
“That’s just the thing, man. Drew’s missing.”
My heart stops for a moment. “Mom didn’t mention that.”
“That’s because she’s in denial and refuses to accept that he’s in a mess. She thinks he’s out roaming, but you and I know better.”
Fuck.
I rub a hand over my mouth, trying not to panic. Or growl. This is exactly the shit I was trying to stay away from when I moved to Arizona. And now here I am, getting dragged right back into it.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll come out there this week. Tell Mom to calm down, would you? If she flips out that’s just another thing to deal with.”
“Got it. I’ll see you later then.”
“Yeah.” I hang up and run a finger over my cold mug.
Drew is missing. Shit.
“You all right, dude?” Ethan asks as Cody sets his drink down.
“What? Yeah.” I rub my mouth again. “I’m fine. Just family shit.”
He takes a drink. “How come you never talk about your family?”
I stretch my neck. “Because there’s nothing to say.”
Actually there’s a ton to say, but no one would want to hear it. And frankly, I like the life I’ve made for myself out here in Arizona. No baggage to weigh me down. No family expectations lingering around me.
I pull up airfares on my phone and start scrolling through the prices. Damn, it’s expensive to fly. My eyes snap up as a thought hits me. Jenna’s heading to New Orleans and I need to go to my hometown—which is right on her way.
A slow smile spread across my face.
I might just have to tag along on Jenna’s road trip.
Turn the page for an excerpt from the first book in Chelsea Fine’s sexy new adult Finding Fate series
BEST KIND OF BROKEN
Available now!
1
Pixie
If my bastard neighbor uses all the hot water again, I will suffocate him in his sleep.
I listen as the shower finally goes off and huff my way around my room, gathering my shower supplies. I don’t politely wait for him to leave the bathroom, oh no. I stand outside the bathroom door—which has steam escaping from the crack at the bottom—with a carefully applied scowl and wait.
Still waiting.
The door swings open to a perfect male body emerging from a billow of hot fog. His dark hair is loose and wet and frames his face in a haphazard way that manages to look sexy despite the fact that he probably shook it out like a dog before opening the door, and of course he’s wearing nothing but a towel.
Kill me now.
I peek into the bathroom, totally pissed, and block his exit with my body. “A thirty-minute shower, Levi? What the hell?”
A smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. “I was dirty.”
Oh, I bet.
“I swear to God,” I say, “if I have to take another cold shower—”
“You shouldn’t swear to God, Pix.” He brings his face close to mine and the steam from his skin dampens my nose and cheeks. “It’s not nice.”
This close up, I can see the tiny silver flecks in his otherwise bright blue eyes and almost feel the three-day scruff that shadows his jaw. Not that I want to feel his scruff. Ever.
I curl my lip. “I want a hot shower.”
“Then shower at night.”
“I’m not kidding, Levi.”
“Neither am I.” His eyes slide to my mouth for a moment—a split second—and there it is. The electricity. The humming vibration that never used to exist between us.
He snaps his eyes away and pulls back. The damp heat from his body pulls away as well, and some stupid, primal part of me whines in protest.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me…” He waits for me to move out of his way. I don’t.
I jab my finger at his chest. “I haven’t had a hot shower for three days—”
Cupping my upper arms, he lifts me off the floor and moves me out of his way like I’m light as a feather. Then he walks the ten paces down the hall to his room and disappears inside without a look back.
Jackass.
With a muttered curse, I stomp into the small bathroom and try not to enjoy the smell of spearmint wafting into my nose and settling on my skin. Damn Levi and his hot-smelling soap.
My freshman year of college ended two weeks ago, and since Arizona State dorms don’t allow students to stay during the summer, I had to find a new place to live and, consequently, a job. So I started working for my aunt Ellen at Willow Inn because one of the job perks—and I use that term loosely—is free room and board.
And my free room shares a hallway and a bathroom with the only person I was hoping to avoid for the rest of my life.
Levi Andrews.
Hot guy. Handyman. My long-lost… something.
Ellen conveniently forgot to tell me that Levi lived at the inn, so the day I moved in was chock-full of surprises.
Surprise! Levi lives here too.
Surprise! You’ll be sleeping next door to him.
Surprise! You’ll be sharing a sink, a shower, and a daily dose of weird sexual tension with him.
Ellen is lucky I love her.
Had I known that Levi lived and worked here, I never would have taken the job, let alone moved in. But Aunt Ellen is one conniving innkeeper and, honestly, my only other option was far less appealing. So here I am, living and working right alongside a walking piece of my past.
Since we’re the only two resident employees, Levi and I are the only people who sleep in the east wing—a setup that might be ideal were it not for the giant elephant we keep sidestepping during these epic encounters of ours.
Memories start creeping up the back of my neck, and a hot prickle forms behind my eyes. I quickly blink it back and turn on the shower, scanning the bathroom for safer things to focus on.
Little blue dots on the wallpaper.
Purple flowers on my bottle of shampoo.
Dots. Flowers. Shampoo.
With the threat of tears now under control, I thrust my hand into the shower and relax a tinge when hot water hits my fingers. Stripping off my pajamas, I step into the spray with high hopes, but water has just hit the right side of my neck when it goes from warm to ice-cold.
Sonofabitch.
There will be suffocation tonight. There will be misery and pain and a big fat pillow over Levi’s big fat scruffy face.
Biting back a howl of frustration, I turn off the water and wrap a towel around my half-wet body. No way am I taking another cold shower. I’ll just have to be unclean today. I hastily grab my stuff and yank the bathroom door open just as Levi leans into the hallway.
He’s traded in his towel for a pair of low-slung jeans but hasn’t gotten around to throwing on a shirt, so I have to watch his chest muscles flex as he grips his bedroom doorframe.
He looks me over with a smirk. “Done so soon?”
I flip him off and enter my room, slamming the door behind me like a fourth grader.
I throw on some clothes, pull my hair into a messy ponytail, and step into my paint-stained sneakers before looking myself over in the mirror. Ugh.
I tug at the V-neck collar of my shirt for a good twenty seconds before giving up and changing into a crew-cut shirt instead. Much better.
My phone chirps on the dresser, and I knock over a jar of paintbrushes as I reach for it. As I pick up my phone, paintbrushes go rolling off the dresser and onto the floor, where they join piles of discarded cloth
ing and crumpled college applications. I glance at the text message and frown.
Miss you.
It’s from Matt.
Miss you too, I text back. I do miss him. Sort of.
Call me. I have news.
I start to call Matt but pause when I hear Levi’s footsteps in the hallway, making their way back to the bathroom. I hear him plug something in, and the sound of his electric razor meets my ears. I set my phone back on the dresser as a wicked smile spreads across my face.
Levi should know better by now. He really should.
Casually moving around my room, I plug in every electric item I own and wait until he’s halfway through shaving. Then I turn everything on at once. The electricity immediately goes out and I hear the buzz of his razor die.
“Dammit, Pixie!”
Ah, the sweet sound of male irritation.
Plastering on an innocent look, I open my door and peer across the hall to the bathroom. Levi looks ridiculous standing in the doorway in just his jeans—still no shirt—glowering at me with half of his face shaved.
He stiffens his jaw. “Seriously?”
I mock a look of sympathy. “You really should charge your razor every once in a while.” I exit my room and move down the hall, singing out, “Have fun rocking a half-beard all day.”
As I head down the stairs, the wet side of my ponytail slaps against my neck with each step. Another smile pulls at my lips.
If Levi wants to play, it’s on.
2
Levi
Twelve days.
Pixie’s been living here for only twelve days and I already want to stab myself with a spoon. Not because she keeps blowing the fuse, though that reoccurring shenanigan of hers is certainly stab-worthy, but because I can’t do normal around Pixie.
But fighting? That I can do.
After pulling a shirt on, I march downstairs and out the back door. The large lavender field behind the inn sways in the morning breeze, and thousands of purple flowers throw their scent into the wind, reminding me of things better left forgotten. Things I used to have locked down. So much for all that.