Read Broken Online

Authors: Nicola Haken

Broken (4 page)

BOOK: Broken
2.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

It’s an effort not to stare at him, but I manage it. Tossing my keys into the drawer beneath the stereo, I press the keyless ignition button and reverse out of my space. It’s only when I drive past Theodore and catch a glimpse of him kicking his tyre in my rear-view mirror that I back up and open my window.

Clearly, fate wants me to talk to this guy again, so who am I to argue? “Car trouble?” I call out, leaning over the centre console.

Theodore huffs and kicks the clapped-out car once more. “Won’t start.” He sounds angry and I don’t know if it’s because of the car, or because he’s talking to me.

Probably a little bit of both
, I decide, feeling smugger than I should that I’m able to provoke such a reaction from him. “Have you called the AA?”

“I don’t have roadside cover. Just go. I’ll sort something.”

“Do you need a ride home?”

“No,” he says, refusing to look at me as he pulls out his phone and makes a call.

I’m intrigued as to why he has such an attitude towards me. So we fucked? Big deal. He didn’t say
no
. In fact I’m sure I remember him saying yes, God yes,
fuck
yes, more than once.

After holding the phone to his ear for a minute or so, he huffs and starts tapping the screen again. He makes another call, and nobody answers that one either.

“You sure you don’t want that ride?”

He rolls his eyes and I smile because I know I’ve won. Tucking his phone back into his jacket, he gives his car one last kick before approaching mine with his head down.

“Where do you live?” I ask as he slides into the passenger seat. He takes hold of his seatbelt and guides it over his taut chest. Suddenly, I’m glad I brought my car today. I walk to work most days because I usually spend the weekdays at my apartment in the city, but I spent the weekend at my place in Alderley Edge and came straight from there.

“Ancoats.”

It’s out of my way but I don’t tell him that. Pulling out of the car park, I turn in the opposite direction of where I live. Theodore gapes out of his window, his hands drumming nervously against his knees.

“Where are you from?” I ask. I don’t know why I’m interested, but I can’t help wanting to know more about him.

“Rochdale.”

Hmm
. “You don’t have the broad accent.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“Brothers and sisters?”

“Brother.”


Boyfriend
?” I ask because I’m wondering if that’s why he’s so pissed off that we had sex.

“No.”

“Do you always stick to one word answers?”

“Not to people I like.”

A wicked grin pulls on one side of my mouth. “Well that was
five
words. Guess you
do
like me after all.”

“Whatever.”

Whatever? Seriously? What is he, twelve?
I find it oddly adorable.

I give up on trying to make conversation…for now. Using my thumb, I activate the stereo with the buttons on my steering wheel. It connects automatically to my iPhone and
Hey There Delilah
by the Plain White T’s floods the car. I crank up the volume, expecting a reaction from Theodore but he doesn’t even flinch. So I start singing, belting the words with as much power as my lungs will allow.

Still, I get nothing. Not even a sideways glance in my direction. So, I do something he can’t possibly ignore. Fiddling with the controls, I skip through the tracks until I land on
Maybe Tomorrow
by the Stereophonics, and then turn it up even louder.

“I
know
you know this one,” I yell over the music before breaking out into the first verse. Risking a glance to my left, I notice he’s shifted in his seat, turning away from me. It’s not the reaction I’m pushing for, but it’s a reaction nonetheless and I take it with a proud smile.

When the song begins to die down, I turn off the stereo. “You weren’t too shy to sing on Friday night.”

“Stop comparing me to that night!” he snaps, finally looking at me. “That wasn’t me.”

His answer forces my brow to furrow. I feel like he’s punched a hole in my chest. “You sure look like him. Maybe I should take another look at your dick to make sure.”

“Next left,” he says, pointing to the turning I need to take, ignoring me completely.

I don’t understand this man at all. I shouldn’t even give a shit, but I do, and it’s frustrating me. “Do you want me to apologise for fucking you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then why are you being so hostile towards me? I’m doing you a favour here, and you’re being an arsehole.”

Eyes focused on the road, I can’t see his expression, but I hear him sigh through his nose. “Look,” he begins, his tone relaxed for the first time. “I know about your reputation and I don’t want any part of it. If I’d known who you were on Friday I never would’ve-”

“My reputation?” I interrupt, curious and slightly amused.

“That you have a thing for fucking your way through the office juniors. Well, I’m not going to be one of them.” He sighs again, sounding flustered. “Not
again
, anyway.”

“It’s not true,” I say. His knees fall towards the middle of the car and I feel his gaze burning into my cheek. “I don’t discriminate. I’m happy to fuck management, too.”

I see him shake his head in the corner of my eye and, as a result, we’re back to single word answers again. “Sure.”

As told, I turn left and wait for his next command. Presumably, I’ve blown any chance of deeper conversation. At least, I
try
to keep quiet, but I just can’t seem to help myself. “Were you a virgin?” I ask, wondering if
that’s
why he’s so uptight about what happened.

“No!” he barks, sounding almost offended. The fervency of his voice makes me believe him. “Please,” he adds, his tone begging. “Can we just forget about Friday?”

I don’t want to, and I won’t. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is.” He points to the windscreen. “It’s those flats over there.”

I make the effort not to scrunch my nose at the unsavoury surroundings. I hit the accelerator a little harder, jumping the amber traffic light before it turns red. If I were to pause in this part of the city for too long, my alloys would be gone before I could yell thief.

Theodore clicks off his seatbelt as the car starts to slow, jumping out the very second it stops. He goes to close the door but hesitates, holding on to the handle as he bends down so I can see his face. “Um, thanks,” he mutters, hardly convincing. “See you around.”

Oh, you can be sure of that
. Before I can say my thoughts aloud, the door is slammed closed and he’s jogging away from me. Gripping the wheel, I tip my head back and wait for my erratic pulse to calm. This guy is going to be a tough one to crack, but I
will
succeed. I have to. Only then, will this bewildering curiosity subside so I can move onto the next.

Damn you, Theodore Davenport.

 

Chapter Three

 

~Theo~

 

 

Slamming
the door to my flat closed behind me, I slide down against it until my arse hits the floor. Drawing my knees up into my chest, I throw my head into my hands. I hate him. James Holden. I
detest
him, and I don’t even know why.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

My heart flies into my mouth and I almost snap the bones in my neck when I look up to find Tess hovering over me. “Jesus, Tess! You scared the living shit out of me! What are you doing here?”

“Naomi’s got her boyfriend over,” she explains, referring to her roommate. “If I wanted to hear a guy panting and moaning I wouldn’t be a lesbian.”

I manage a small smile and Tess joins me on the floor, propping herself up on her hands while she stretches her legs out in front of her. “Bad day?”

A humourless laugh flies from my throat. “You know the guy I never have to see again? The one who stole my morals and turned me into a raging slut just by looking at me?”

“David Gandy?”

I nod. “Turns out David Gandy is, in fact, James Holden. My boss. Not just
my
boss, but
everyone’s
boss. The fucking boss of all the bosses.”

Tess gasps, and then pisses me the hell off by giggling. “No way!”

“It’s not funny, Tess.”

“Kinda is. I’d say you couldn’t make that shit up, but I think you already did in one of your books.”

She’s right. I have three self-published titles under my belt and in my first novel, Lost and Found, the main characters find themselves in a situation not dissimilar to the one I’m facing right now. The difference, however, is this is real life and James and I aren’t going to drive off into the sunset together. The real life version ends with me dreading going to work every single day because I can’t bear to face my arsehole boss with an ego the size of China.

Tess’ hand appears on my knee and I stack one of mine on top of it. “So you’ve slept with your boss. Big deal. I’m sure you’re not the first.”

“I’m not if the rumours are true.” The thought makes me queasy.

“I meant in general, but whatever. If he’s the CEO you probably won’t have to deal with him anyway. Don’t CEO’s just sit around on their arse, smoking cigars all day, while everyone else does the work?”

I shrug, so many thoughts, scenarios, and emotions running through my head it feels like my brain is about to splatter all over the wall. “He’s persistent.”

“So you’ve already spoken to him again?”

She says
again
, but today is actually the first time, given the fact the feel of him on my skin last week rendered me completely speechless. “He gave me a lift home. My car’s knackered and I didn’t have another choice seeing as neither
you
nor Tom would answer your damn phones.” I can’t help scowling at her like it’s all her fault I’ve just had the most uncomfortable car journey of my life.

She pulls her lips into a firm, guilty line, exposing her teeth. “I’ve got this new phone case and it knocks the silent switch every time I take it out to charge.
But
…you could’ve gotten the bus.”

Yes. Yes I could. Why the hell didn’t I think of that? Oh yeah, because I can’t think of fucking
anything
when James Holden is around.

“So, I’m guessing, by the foul mood you’re in, that he’s a bellend?”

I open my mouth to say the only reasonable answer.
Yes.
Except it’s
not
reasonable, so I close it again. “He’s…” Hell, I don’t even know what he is, or why he’s crawled so far under my skin I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to get him out. “He’s not actually done anything wrong,” I admit, but it doesn’t stop a sour taste bubbling on the surface of my tongue. “I just hate him.”

“Now, do you
really?
Or are you just mad at yourself for sleeping with a stranger?”

“No. It’s him,” I spit, refusing to acknowledge the alternative. I’m being petulant and I know it. I
am
mad with myself. Some people don’t see an issue with casual sex and I don’t judge anyone for living that way, but it’s not for me. At least, it wasn’t before Friday night and I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve let myself down.

“Seriously, Theo, I think you just need to pull that stick out of your arse and move the fuck on.” I can always rely on Tess to give it to me straight, and whether it pisses me off or not, I know she’s right. “I bet he’s not wasting his time thinking about it. Probably got his dick in another hole as we speak. You can’t change it, so just forget it instead.”

A part of me that I don’t understand doesn’t want to forget, and for that reason alone I wish I could kick myself in the balls. “You’re right,” I agree, forcing conviction into my voice as I slap my knees. “I’m starving. What d’you fancy?”

“Real chips and egg?” By ‘real’ chips, she means homemade and deep-fried.

I’m already salivating at the thought. “You peel the spuds and I’ll butter the muffins.”

I raise my hand and she gives me a high-five. “Deal.”

 

**********

 

This morning, I’m glad that Tess stayed over last night. A Netflix marathon and two bottles of cheap wine were just what I needed to get my stupid boss out of my head. I
may
have wanked off to the image of him in my mind this morning but I refuse to read too much into that. I wank off to Stephen Amell all the time but I don’t go to sleep worrying about our future together.

I’m drinking coffee when Tess comes barrelling out of the bathroom, pulling on her trainers at the same time.

“Coffee?”

“That cheap shit isn’t worth me being late for,” she says, grabbing her jacket from the floor and swinging it over her shoulder. “I’ve already had a verbal warning.”

Tess isn’t the best timekeeper. Something I’m sure her boss at the sportswear shop doesn’t appreciate.

“Will you be here tonight?” I ask as her hand reaches for the door handle. “I’ll pick up a takeaway on the way home if you are.”

“I’ll text you when I know what Naomi’s plans are. In a bit, little shit.”

“Sure,” I reply, but she’s already gone.

Sliding my finger under the sleeve of my grey jacket, I check the time on my watch and huff. I need to get a move on if I’m going to make it to work on time. Buses are unreliable on a good day. I haven’t been on public transport since I was in college but I imagine it’s still over-crowded and smells like piss and sweat.

I drain my coffee, silently agreeing with Tess that it does indeed taste like shit, and then fix a knot in the silver tie draped loosely around my neck. I’m out the door and jogging down the stairwell, as usual the lift is out of order, just seconds later. Outside, I stop in my tracks, knitting my eyebrows together, sure I’ve just walked past an all too familiar car. I dismiss it, certain I’m going fucking crazy, and carry on walking.

“Need a ride?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I mutter under my breath before begrudgingly turning around. Seemingly, I’m
not
going crazy, I’m being fucking stalked.

“I’m fine with the bus,” I say, feeling rather proud of myself for not giving into him…
again
.

The confident arse cocks his head and then leans over to open the passenger door. “My leather seats won’t leave you smelling like stale piss all day.”

I don’t want to, yet I’m walking towards him. It’s almost as if he severed the connection between my brain and my muscles when he fucked me last week because I seem to have lost all control over my body. That pride I felt just seconds ago? Yeah, that disappears the second I slide into his pretentious car. It’s all silver and black leather with more gadgets and technology than bloody NASA. If I didn’t know better, I’d assume he was over compensating for a tiny dick.

But I know he’s far from tiny and my arse clenches at the mere memory. I need to stop thinking about that before my cock swells any further, so I reach out and switch on the stereo to distract myself. It works, until his hand lands on the back of my seat, supporting him as he turns to the rear window while reversing out of his space. His skin is so close to my face. It’s the same hand he had wrapped around my dick and I can’t stop thinking about it, remembering how good it felt.

He returns his hand to the wheel and I spot flashes of colour on his wrist where the cuff of his jacket has rolled up slightly. It surprises me that he has tattoos. He’s so refined and business-like. Suddenly, I want to know if he has more, if he has a full sleeve,
two
full sleeves. Does he have them on his chest, his back, his legs…

“If you keep staring at me like that I might start believing you don’t hate me as much as you want to.”

Shit
. I rip my gaze away from his arm and shift in my seat so I can’t see him, even by accident out of the corner of my eye. He’s so fucking arrogant and it makes me scowl out of the window.
Why the hell am I in his car? Again!
I decide I’m going to have to practise saying ‘Fuck off, you condescending, cocky bastard,’ in the mirror when I get home.

We drive in silence, only interrupted by the small puff of humourless laughter that pushes through my nose when
Creep
by Radiohead starts trickling through the speakers.

“You think I’m a creep?” he asks, amusement tickling his tone.

Among other things.
“You have to admit it’s a bit weird waiting outside my flat like that. You don’t even know me.”

“You work for me. I take care of my employees.”

“That’s not why you did it.” The words come out like an accusation and a tiny part of me wants him to agree.

“So why do
you
think I did it?”

I can’t see his face, I won’t let myself, but I can imagine the smug expression he’s wearing.

“Because you want to screw me again.”

“And that makes you mad?”

No.
But I want it to. “Yes.”

“Well you can relax. I’m not a rapist. It won’t happen until you want it to.”

“It won’t happen, full stop.”

“Because I’m your boss?”

“No. Yes. Partly.” I’m flustered and it makes me hate him even more. He’s wearing me down and I can’t even begin to comprehend how the hell he does it.

“Partly because I’m your boss,” he repeats. “And the other part?”

“Because…because…”
Jesus Christ, Theo, pull yourself together.

“Because?”

“Because of comments like
that!
You’re an arrogant, cocky, pretentious, self-important, patronising, arrogant ars-”

“You’ve already said arrogant.”

I’m seething so vehemently my blood vibrates in my veins, and seemingly, I revert to being a child, huffing as I fold my arms across my chest.

I plan to stay silent the rest of the way, the rest of my
life
when he’s around, but curiosity overpowers me when he veers onto a road that doesn’t lead to Holden House.

“Where are you going?”

“Costa. I need caffeine to sustain this level of arrogance. Want one?”

Twat
. “No.”

Shrugging, James pulls onto a side street and parks against the curb. He gets out and walks off without another word and I drag some much-needed oxygen into my lungs.  All weekend I dreamt about those damn eyes of his, the story they told, the demons they possessed…but now I can’t even bring myself to look at them, because every time I do I forget how to function like a normal human being.

When I see James returning to the car I seize the opportunity to take another deep breath, knowing in a few seconds the art of breathing will become a luxury I’m not privileged enough to possess. My eyes roll at the sight of two tall cups in his hands. It’s as if his sole purpose in life is to annoy me.

He balances one cup in the crook of his arm while he opens the door and then holds it out to me. “Caramel latte.”

“I said I didn’t want one,” I spit, staring at the cup. I don’t intend to take it out of pure childishness but James doesn’t move and I suspect he won’t until it’s in my hand. So, as fucking usual, I give in and take the cup.

He slides into his seat and I refuse to look at the smile on his face but I know it’s there. “But you do
really
. You were just being stubborn.”

He’s right, but he shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t be able to read me so well when he doesn’t even know me. It frustrates me.
He
frustrates me.

The feeling dies down just slightly as I sip on the first decent coffee I’ve had in weeks, but then he ruins it by opening his mouth. “So what made you decide to move into the publishing industry?”

I shrug. “Curiosity. Passion,” I say, forcing nonchalance into my tone.

“You like to read?”

BOOK: Broken
2.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

A Different Sky by Meira Chand
Triumph in Arms by Jennifer Blake
Night Train to Lisbon by Emily Grayson
Hearths of Fire by Kennedy Layne
Broken Promises by Summer Waters
Hot Bouncer by Cheryl Dragon
First and Ten by Jeff Rud
Mark of the Seer by Kay, Jenna
D.V. by Diana Vreeland