Left in the Dust: A Standalone Bad Boy Romance (21 page)

The underground station let out right at the Goat House Pub. It was situated in an abandoned business district in the middle of town. Old cars stood in the front of the building in a nice and neat line. I couldn't keep the image of gross old men driving around out of my head. A cheap big sign with a goat was plastered above the door.

I checked myself in my compact. Don't drink too much
,
Brooke. You still need to work on that history paper
.
I darkened my makeup and let my hair down from a ponytail. I inhaled deeply and got out.

A guy in a leather jacket was bent over working under the hood of his truck. His red hair and beard stood out. He must have been a regular or something. He looked up at me and whistled, checking me up and down. I ignored him and kept on walking to the front. Guys were always trying to hit on me and it was best to just let it be.

“No need to go in there. I got all you need right here,” the dirty guy said, pointing to his crotch.

I almost gagged at the thought.

I kept on walking and opened the door to the bar.

A grand hall with floor-to-ceiling wood welcomed me. Pool tables stood in one corner and a large bar with a long row of beer taps. “London Calling” by The Clash played on an outdated boombox behind the bar.
How fitting...
What was this place? This wasn't like the other pubs I'd visited. Guys in smoking jackets sat on couches puffing on pipes. A few scantily-clad girls walked around wearing the shortest plaid skirts and tightest tops. How could they go out in public wearing that?

A man right by the door turned around and his eyes gazed up and down my body. Wearing a low-cut top was a bad choice. I steeled myself and wandered over to the bar and hopped onto a stool.

The bartender stood with his back to me, cleaning glass mugs. “Excuse me,” I said aloud. He didn't hear me the first time and I had to repeat myself.

Finally he turned around. I gulped. This guy was big and strong. His muscles were bigger than my waist—he could probably squeeze my neck until my head popped off. He ate girls like me for breakfast.

“What can I get you?” he asked.

My brain ran through the possible drinks I could order. Back in the “States” I would've ordered a tequila sunrise but beer looked like the only option at a place like this. “Can I get whatever brown ale you have on tap?”

The bartender turned his back to me again and continued cleaning mugs. “Gabriel, get this lady a Newcastle.”

Gabriel was in his mid-thirty's with a bald head and handle-bar mustache that looked way too silly. I wanted to giggle but his eyes told me that would be a bad idea. He handed me a small glass that was filled halfway. Gabriel glanced down at my cleavage and I felt a little uncomfortable.

I hesitantly downed the liquid that quenched my thirst. I'd only had beer at a few parties before so I was no expert, but my best guess was that it wasn't the best brown ale of England.

The alcohol hit me hard. “Ahem...can I get a water?”

Gabriel grunted again. He didn't say much.

I flushed with embarrassment. How could only one drink get me so tipsy? I walked over to the table, making sure to steady myself. My head was fuzzy but I felt amazing.

Everyone in the room was looking right at me, watching my every move. This place was so intimidating. I cursed Mr. Capshaw under my breath. This paper was going to be the death of me.

I took out my notepad and began recording possible people to do my report on. My notes were pretty sparse. Prince Harry or Queen Elizabeth were the only ones I could come up with. I tried to rack my brain for any other king or queen. The beer was doing its trick. Soon I didn't care about my paper.

I glanced around the room, focusing on the small details. Everyone seemed at ease—not a care in the world. Did anyone have a job? Did they just hang out here all day and drink?

The front door opened and in came another drunk My heart skipped a beat. This one was different: young, brown hair down to his shoulders, and a little scruff under the chin. He wore a tailored blue suit that definitely didn't belong in a pub like this.

This guy was hot as hell.

“Did I make it in time, guys?” he said with his arms outstretched in a v-shape. His British accent was to die for.

“What took you so long?” the guy who helped me outside asked him. “Mum and Dad are going to be waiting for us all at the house.”

“Well Charles, you know how it is when the cops are chasing you.” They clasped hands and flexed their forearms. They could be barbarians if we lived in a different time.

“Bullocks Lucas, you escaped them again?” Charles asked.

Lucas nodded.

“One of these days they're going to bloody get you.”

“Not in this lifetime, mate” They both heartily laughed and slapped each other on the back.

Lucas sat at the bar. “How's it going, Gabriel? Get me a drink. Mum and Dad can wait.”

Gabriel pulled out the same bottle of whiskey and poured him a shot. Lucas knocked it back and slammed the glass upside down on the bar.

Lucas threw a glance at me with his dark blue eyes, piercing my soul. My heart stopped and the blood in my veins froze. He was walking towards me!

Adrenaline still coursed through my veins as I parked my car at the pub. The cops weren't close to catching me. My royal blood would protect me anyways. There was no way I was going to waste even a year of my life sitting in a cell. If worse came to worse, they fine my parents. I swung the keys around my finger as I walked inside.

Being rich was harder than it looked. Everyone treated you differently. Nobody wanted to really be your friend. They only wanted your money. Family was all that mattered.

Charles greeted me and gave me the usual talk about the cops putting bracelets on me one day. Over my dead body.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted someone new. She wasn't the usual fare we got here at the pub: shoulder-length brunette, brown eyes, and innocent. You can tell the difference between the bad and the good—she was a good girl.

She had a gravity about her that pulled me in. I didn't even wait to ask who she was before I found myself walking her way.

“Name's Lucas,” I announced. Talking to women was like second nature to me. I could strike up a conversation with anyone.

The woman stared up at me from the table, not saying a word. I couldn't tell if she was frightened or just didn't care. She closed her eyes and gulped. “I'm Brooke.”

An American accent? Her voice was heavenly.  I glanced down at her cleavage and felt a pang of desire in my pants. Foreigners were my cup of tea.

I shook her hand and felt a jolt of electricity zap through me. A feeling I'd never experienced before. I'd been with a lot of women—too many to count. A prince got whatever he desired. But this one was different.

“What are you doing in a place like this, love?” I asked.

“I'm a student at the university and I'm trying to avoid writing a paper.” Her eyes averted my gaze—I just needed one more look at that beautiful face.

I never needed to go to school. Whatever education I received was from Percy who came by the house and tried to teach me and my brothers multiplication once a week. He didn't last very long.

I put my finger and thumb on her chin and lifted her head until her eyes met mine. I lost my breath as we stared at each other for an eternity. I wanted this woman—
fucking needed her.

“If you need help with anything, just ask me.”

“I actually need to pick some king or prince to do a report on. I haven't lived here long enough to know very many.”

She has no fucking idea who I am. I could have fun with this.

“I can help.” I sat down across from her. The tension between us was palpable.

Charles screamed from across the room. “Lucas, get off your arse. We have to get over to the house now.”

Fuck...Brooke totally made me forget about my parents.

I wanted to ditch my brothers and spend forever with this girl.

I snapped back to reality—why was I letting a woman affect me so much?

I never told anyone my secret. Not even to my best friends. It was too embarrassing—too weird.

Here it goes...I have never been with a man before.

I had some boyfriends in middle school but the farthest we ever got was hand-holding. It's not like I didn't want to go further. They were all too good for me. Once I got to high school and college, I was so busy that I had no time to find a man.

This one just plopped into my lap and I had no idea what to do with him. All that studying for school wasn't going to help me in a real-life situation. Lucas was different than any other guy I'd met; something about the way he held himself. He was cocky and strong—he could get anything he wanted, including me.

Charles screamed from across the room. “Lucas, get off your arse. We have to get over to the house now.”

“I'm sorry Brooke, we'll have to put your tutoring on hold. Family business.”

“Family business?” I asked, gazing at him from behind my lashes. The alcohol was still knocking at my front door. Was I being to invasive?

Lucas leaned back in his seat. “Nothing special. Just dinner with the parents.”

It was hard to focus with all the desire pooling between my thighs.

“Well I'll still be here trying to come up with a royal figure.” I muttered.

Lucas smirked. “Don't worry, love. I'll be back”

Oh my! When did I become so weak to the British accent?

“Cheers,” he whispered.

No! Don't go yet!

“I hope so,” I replied.

“I won't leave a beautiful lass like yourself alone for too long.” He winked.

My cheeks flushed with all the red in the world.
Beautiful?
What was this man doing to me?

After dinner, I went back to the pub to find Brooke. I asked around and nobody had seen her. She wasn't the first nice girl to escape when she had the chance.

It was hard to find a woman who didn't put handcuffs on you once they found out how much you were worth. Hiding my identity from Brooke was the only way. But now she was gone and didn't know anything about her other than her name.

A week later I'd forgotten all about that pretty brunette and moved on. My brothers and I were moving on a major business deal that could gain us some serious cash.

John found me in the basement one morning pumping iron on the bench press. “Isn't that too much weight?” he asked, rushing over to spot me.

I strained as I lifted the two hundred bar of weights above my chest. A few years ago I was only able to do under one-fifty. Not having a job, I had a lot of time on my hands and working out was the natural way to pass it. Add a competing brothers and weight training was all you knew.

John grabbed the bar and helped me lift it back into place. I sat up and grabbed a white towel to wipe the dripping sweat from my face. “Where are we with Kernal Co?”

John started lifting two free weights. “We have a meet set up with them later this week,” he grunted.

“You think they're going to go through with the deal?”

John strained his bicep as he brought the weight to his shoulder. “Should go smoothly. Their company is in dire need of cash.”

“Why are we buying another business? We have plenty.”

John smirked. “Daddy says you always have to stay on top of the competition.”

John's explanation made sense. But I still had a nagging feeling that this was a bad move. But I'd never question my older brother.

John set down the free weights. “You seen that chick that was at the pub last week?”

He was talking about Brooke. I hadn't seen her but she had been on my mind since that first meeting. I shook my head. “Haven't seen her since that first day.”

“That's a shame. She was a fine piece of ass. Someone you can actually take home to mother. If you know what I mean.”

I knew exactly what he meant. Brooke was smoking hot but didn't look like the other bimbos I'd dated in the past.