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Authors: Kimberly Lauren

Beautiful Broken Mess (13 page)

BOOK: Beautiful Broken Mess
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She steps closer to me and says, “No, I know you would never hurt me like that. It wasn’t your fault. That had nothing to do with you. It just… happens.”

“If it had nothing to do with me, who does it have to do with?”

“I need to go home, it’s late.” She turns back toward the car and I lunge for her. I hold on to her hips from behind and lean down to whisper in her ear. If she can’t look at me when she says it, that’s fine, but she’s going to say it. She better fucking believe I’m going to find out who did what to her. So help me, God, if it’s Lane, we’ll be attending his funeral by Monday.

“Who?” I ask in a low growl.

Her shoulders slowly slump in defeat. “My dad.”

“Your dad? What are you talking about? When? How?” My questions begin spilling out.

“I don’t want to discuss this with you. Not here. Not right now.” She reaches out and opens the door to her vehicle.

“Where’s Lane?” I ask, as she climbs into the driver’s seat.

“He left with some girl he met.”

“Shit, he just left you here?” I ask, trying to keep my tone calm. Placing my hands on her thighs, I try to regain my composure. Are we talking about the same guy who always has one eye on her at all times?

“He made me promise that I would ask you to walk me out here.”

“I’ll follow you home then, so I know that you got there okay.”

“Jace… don’t.”

“I’m following you home, Audrey. I’ll be right behind you.” I close the door, leaving no opportunity for any argument she may attempt.

When I pull up into her parking lot, I’m relieved to see that she’s in a nice part of town and only a few blocks away from me. This is the area where most students live who are attending the university and I wonder if she going to school here now. She parks in her designated spot and I have to force myself to stay in the car. If I get out, I’ll never get back in.

She glances at me on her way out of the car and then walks to unlock her door. A dog dashes out and excitedly greets her when she gets the door open. Damn, that dog just put a smile on her face that could make a grown man drop to his knees and pray for more. If she doesn’t stop, that’s exactly what I’ll end up doing. Damn lucky dog.

With a final look in my direction, she closes the door. She was probably wondering if I would get out and say something. I slam my palm against the steering wheel. Why is she wrapping me around her little finger again? I’m supposed to be over her! But right now, all I can think about is smashing my fist into her dad’s front teeth for whatever he did, locking her away in my bedroom, and keeping her all to myself. Just for good measure, I slam both palms into the steering wheel again.

A light comes on, and I can see her moving around in what must be her bedroom. I fantasize about her peeling off those tight-ass jeans and her button-up shirt with the top three buttons undone. Standing above her while dancing, I had the perfect view down that shirt. Fucking Mason probably saw down it as well. I have to stop before I beat the shit out of my poor leather steering wheel.

Her light switches off and I’ll bet she’s curling up in her bed. Slipping that delectable body under her sheets, turning on her side, and sleeping with her hands tucked up under her cheek. I can picture her beautiful, dark brown hair spread out across her pillow, just waiting for someone to run their fingers through the silky strands.

I step on the gas and pull into a visitor’s parking spot. She has to know I’m still here. Even idling, my V8 can be heard from a block away. My neighbors fucking love me. Ever since Jax handed over the keys to his ’67 Camaro, I’ve been fine-tuning the engine so it purrs, nice and loud.

My body pulls me toward her apartment, even though I should get back in the car and drive home. Out of curiosity, I make my way to her window first. It must be in my blood to check security because I test the lock and push on the metal frame. When it easily glides up, my jaw clenches in anger. Her window is fucking unlocked. Why the hell isn’t Lane checking for these kinds of things? I push her vertical blinds aside and quietly crawl into the darkness, which is not an easy feat when you’re six-three.

I hear a soft, muffled
thump, thump, thump
on the carpet near my feet. I let my eyes adjust to the darkness, taking in her room by the glow of the street lamps. I see that her marvelous guard-dog is still lying on the ground with his tail wagging, despite my illicit approach into his owner’s residence. I bend down and scratch his stomach. I guess I should just be thankful he didn’t bite my head off.

She shuffles in her bed and I’m surprised she hasn’t freaked out by now. Usually when someone starts climbing in your bedroom window, you should have your guard up. I walk over to her bed and see that she’s completely passed out. She has one arm thrown over her head, and the covers are tucked all the way up under her chin. Damn, how did she do that? I literally watched her walk into her house not even ten minutes ago and she’s already dead to the world.

Her body is practically screaming for mine to join her, or maybe it’s just my body doing the screaming. Well… far be it for me to ignore this opportunity. I sit down on a chair and take my shoes off, and then decide to make myself at home by removing my jeans and shirt as well. I leave my boxers on, even though I hate sleeping in clothes, because I should at least be somewhat courteous at this point. I mean, I did just break into her room and now I plan on climbing in bed with her, all while she’s fast asleep. She’s going to be pissed when she wakes up, and I can’t wait to see her cute little angry face.

With a smirk, I try to decide the best possible way to climb into this tiny excuse for a bed without waking her. My knee hits the mattress and I groan. This isn’t a tiny bed, it’s a fucking futon. I hate futons. There’s always a metal bar in your back that you can’t escape. When the damn thing practically growls under the weight of my body, I wonder if it’ll be able to hold both of us. Fuck it. If I break this thing, at least I can buy her a real bed.

I crawl up behind her and slip under the covers. I stifle a chuckle because unbelievably, she doesn’t move a muscle as this thing creaks and cracks noisily in the quiet room. Tomorrow morning is going to be fantastic; her reaction alone will be priceless.

I lie down beside her and shift to my side so we can both fit comfortably. She mumbles under her breath, and I freeze as she scoots her body closer into mine. Her hair is thrown up messily on top of her head and I’m aching to pull it all down. God, she smells delicious. The faint scent of coconut lingers, and I’m instantly thrown back to our first and only time in my car.

Her mumbling continues and then she murmurs, “Jace…”

Holy hell, she’s dreaming about me. I inch closer, in hopes that if she speaks again I’ll be able to hear every word that comes out of that pretty mouth of hers. My hand slides over a bare hip and I freeze. Slowly, I slide my fingers farther up and feel the tiniest string. If I could smack my forehead without waking her up, I would. She has a fucking thong on and if my instincts are correct, that’s
all
she has on.

My hand splays out across her soft stomach and I pull her in closer to my chest, burying my nose in her hair. After everything she told me tonight, even though it wasn’t near enough, I just need to hold her tight. I can fight those demons for her, and I need to make sure they never return.

The soft in-and-out of her breathing begins to lull me to sleep. This was a fucking dumb idea. I’m never going to want to sleep anywhere else again. Futon be damned.

On a long moan, my name escapes her lips again. I’m instantly hard and that fucker has no plans to surrender anytime soon. There’s no doubt in my mind as to what kind of dream she’s having… about me. This is going to be the longest and most excruciating night of my life. I’m two seconds away from flipping her around and waking her up, but she shifts onto her back and lets out a contented sigh. Well, at least it looks like Dream Jace did a damn fine job.
High-five, my man
.

- Seven -

 

AUDREY -

So maybe turning the air conditioner off last night during this September heat wave was not the best idea. But if Lane isn’t here, I always turn it off. I’d rather deal with being uncomfortable than spend unnecessary money on utility bills. Whenever I fall asleep, my inner heater cranks up to its highest setting, so I typically sleep in as little clothes as possible. It doesn’t seem to be helping right now though because my skin feels like it’s on fire.

Slowly, I stretch out my legs and roll my ankles until they pop a few times. It’s a nasty habit, but it feels too good to stop. My hands extend out and touch skin. Not my skin. And Chuck sure as hell doesn’t feel like this either. Panic mode hits me fast and I immediately start kicking to get myself out of the bed. In terror, I launch myself off whoever is in my bed and onto the floor, all while dragging the sheet with me.

A loud, painful sounding grunt comes from the bed. I pull the sheet up over my chest and take in my late-night intruder. The muscles in his arms flex and move as his body collapses inward. His gorgeous chest is one that I am intimately familiar with.

“Jace?” I gasp loudly.

“Ahhhh… Fuuuck... I think I’m gonna hurl!” His hands cover his crotch and his eyes are squeezed shut in pain.

“What the hell, Jace? How did you get in here? And why?” I screech, while trying to keep myself covered. He continues to roll back and forth, groaning in agony. My door instantly slams open with a wide-eyed Lane standing in the doorway. He still has that sleepy look, but his fists are clenched tightly and I can tell he’s ready for battle.

“Audrey?” he huffs out, which further signifies his panic because he rarely calls me by my real name. He scans the scene before him, me on the floor with only a sheet covering my essentials and Jace thrashing around on my bed in pain for whatever reason. The calm washes back over his face as he realizes there isn’t a threat, although I’m still not convinced about that. Jace snuck into my room last night and I want to know why.

“Damn, dude. That does
not
look like fun,” Lane says to Jace.

“Fuck man, she just used her whole body to launch off my nuts,” he says in a calmer, yet higher-pitched voice.

Lane sucks in a quick rush of air between his teeth, sympathizing with him. “I don’t care what he did, Doll, that ain’t right.” He gestures toward Jace on the bed and leaves the room.

I kicked him… down there? Whoops. Jace still has his eyes closed as I cautiously approach him on the bed, thinking about all the times I’ve been taught what to do when approaching a wounded animal. I slowly sit on my knees beside him, the sheet clutched to my chest, while taking in his gorgeous body. If only I would have known it was him, this wake-up could have gone so much better.

“You scared me,” I whisper.

“Don’t worry, I sure as hell learned my lesson.” For the first time this morning, I’m finally gifted with the most striking blue eyes I’ve ever seen.

I had never seen the ocean until I moved to California. I remember the salty marine air hitting me the second I stepped out of the car, and it was unlike anything I had felt before. While walking through the parking lot, I was anxious to see what was causing those amazing, roaring sounds. The second I stepped over the first mound of sand, I was finally able to see the breathtaking sight. The gorgeous, blue ocean immediately made me think of Jace’s captivating eyes. He carries a vast amount emotion and intelligence behind those baby blues, and just like the ocean, they appear never-ending. I wish I could stare into them for hours.

The rasp of his voice pulls me from my reflection. “Why are you looking at me like that?” he whispers.

“Because you’re gorgeous,” I reply truthfully.
Damn, my stupid mouth!
I feel my face flame up with embarrassment at my answer. I was too busy gawking at him and had no time to create a plausible defense. A smirk begins to pull up at the corner of his mouth, and I try to stop him before he can delve further into that admission. “Why are you here?” I demand.

“To be honest, I don’t know…” he trails off. “After everything you said last night about… your dad, I just couldn’t leave. I needed to be next to you. I needed to protect you.”

“I don’t need protection, Jace. If that’s what I was looking for, then I already found it in Lane.”

His fists clench together next to his hips, and I can tell my relationship with Lane is a sensitive area for him. “Audrey, if you ever need help, I would be there. I don’t care what went down. I would have been there, even back then!” he says, lightly beating his chest with his closed fist.

His eyes are haunted with countless emotions, and I pray to God one of those is not guilt. I want to scream at how irate I am that he never came to me and asked what happened. I want to cry because of everything we could have had. Even after all that, I want to reassure him that he should never feel guilt, regardless of what he assumes my dad did. This is what Jace does to me. He makes me want to smack him and embrace him, all in the same beat of time.

“I don’t need to be saved. I already saved myself.”

“I can see that, and I’m having a fucking hard time with the thought that I should have been the one to do it. You shouldn’t have had to deal with everything all by yourself. I should have been there… I was so stupid… I should have been there…” he rambles.

BOOK: Beautiful Broken Mess
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