Someone Like You (Someone To Love Series) (5 page)

“Oh,
hon
, is that what’s got you so upset?” Lauren wraps an arm around my shoulder. “That was just your run-of-the-mill one-night stand. It’s your first—”

I cut her off. “And my last. Believe me, there was nothing run-of-the-mill about this guy.” Then again that bottle of champagne could have played a part in my exaltation of him and his baseball bat. “It’s not happening again.” But if those dimples go off I might just be tempted to melt into one. “He’s an ass of the highest order.” A perfectly rock-hard ass, but still, he’s nothing but a double negative. “Jerks like him eat decent people like me for breakfast.” Or, as evidenced by his sudden urge to partake of the first meal of the day elsewhere, maybe not. “I swear I’ll knife his balls off if we ever meet again.”

Kendall and Lauren gape at me as if I’ve already committed the lewd felony.

“Don’t just sit there,” I say, incredulous at their sudden urge to plead the fifth. “Raise your coffee and say something encouraging.” I grip my cup so tightly my fingers turn white.

“You’ll find someone else.” Lauren touches her hand to mine with her dime-store consolation. “Someone special.” She nods with an equally false sense of assurance.

“And he’ll be Mr. Right,” Lauren adds. If I didn’t know better I’d swear she was mocking me.

“Easy for you to say. You’ve got Cal”—I look to Kendall—“and you’ve got Cruise. And I’ve got nobody, per usual.” I sink in my seat, and my vagina lights up with the remnants of last night’s grand slam that held all the magical ingredients of a happily ever after, minus the love and genuine affection, and the general knowledge of his surname. “
And,
I’ve got to
move
today.” It comes out pissy as if this, too, were somehow his fault. “There’s nothing like moving to magnify the fact you don’t have a strong pair of arms to call your own.”

“I’m so sorry, Ally.” Kendall combs out her long, black bangs with her fingers. “Not all guys are assholes. I swear to you there are a ton of great ones out there.” Her shoulders droop before she springs back to life. “Look, my brother just came into town and he’s dying to check this place out. Why don’t we help you move and if you like, you can show him around? I’d really appreciate it, and I know he would too. I’d show him around myself, but I can tell he’s already itching to get away from me and Cruise.”

“I don’t know.” I shake my head at the idea. “I’m sort of allergic to blind dates in general.”

“It’s not a date.” Lauren smacks me in the arm. “He’s going to help you move, and you can take him to dinner as a thank-you.”

Kendall nods a little too eagerly.

“Okay. But I have to warn you I have a long-standing track record of not falling for my friends’ brothers. No offense. I’m sure he’s great and all, but I’m gun shy when it comes to next of kin.” It’s a certified fact there is no quicker way to kill a friendship.

“I promise—you’re going to
love
him!” Kendall beams at the thought of playing matchmaker. “He’s totally fabulous.”

Odd how she’s undeterred by the fact I’ve got a seed of vengeance blooming in my heart for anyone slinging a procreation device between his legs. And, unless he rids himself of his miniature tail, he’ll be a guest on my “shit list” for the interim or at least until my anger for an entire gender subsides—and judging by the knot in my stomach, that would be never.

After a brief stint at the Bux, I return to Russell Hall and endure hours of playing throw everything you own into garbage bags, plus sixteen boxes. Where the hell did all this crap come from anyway?

My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Kendall.

Downstairs!

Perfect. That means her brother is here. My stomach pinches at the thought of meeting up with another card-carrying member of the Trouser-Snake Society. I’ve been in a pissy mood ever since Dr. Morgan-Douche decided to check me for a fever with his own personal dipstick, then made a run for the border like some kind of carnal convict.

I take the elevator down to meet with Cruise, Kendall, and her oh-so-fab big brother. I spent the majority of the afternoon hauling all the little boxes down and playing a real-life version of Tetris in the trunk of my Honda, but Kendall made me promise to leave all the heavier boxes for Cruise and her big bro. The dorm came furnished so there’s that.

It’s already warm for June, which is a nice change of pace since I don’t usually feel like putting on anything summery until well after the Fourth. But in honor of my newly declared male fast I decide to torment the opposite sex by looking as cute as humanly possible. I hope to drive entire droves of sexed-up frat boys insane with my barely there Daisy Dukes, my add-a-size Bombshell bra paired with the designer wifebeater left by Lauren. When she moved out, half my closet moved out with her—the better half.

Anyway, I called Derek and warned him of my impending arrival. He said dinner involved a big greasy bucket from the Colonel, and me delivering it, so I guess that means I’m buying. We really didn’t discuss rent, so I’m assuming endless trips to any and every fast-food locale within driving distance will be my major contribution—that and cleaning. Derek and his girlfriend Raya aren’t too keen on that whole hygiene thing. You’d think their humble RV was a getaway resort for the local rodent population the way they gathered around the vicinity in herds. And Raya doesn’t help the situation by setting out a five-star buffet for them in her bevy of birdfeeders. I keep telling them the last thing those rat cafes see are winged creatures, but they’re the first to call bullshit on just about anything that flies from my mouth ever since “I’ve done got myself an
edjamacation
.” Everything in me sighs at the thought of what a long, drawn-out summer this is going to be.

The elevator doors open, and I hurry outside. The air is thick and muggy, already perfumed with the familiar scents of summer: suntan lotion mixing with the evergreens.

Kendall stands next to a large white pickup, waving like she hasn’t seen me in months, so I wave back and freeze with my hand in the air like I’m about to swat someone and honest to God I just might.

“Holy shit,” I hiss under my breath. It’s the dark knight from last night’s romp and stomp. He’s sporting a goofy grin that melts off his face faster than a glacier in hell, and that’s exactly where I’m about to send him.

Crap. He’s going to ruin everything. Here Kendall was nice enough to show up with her better half and her brother…

Oh, no. Oh, God.

Everything in me freezes.

Shit, shit,
shit.

“Ally!” Kendall bounds over and drags me to the ebony-haired Adonis. His lips twitch a devilish grin and his dimples press in deep.

Just fuck.

“Ally, this is my brother, Morgan.” My stomach clenches when she says his name. “And Morgan, this is my good friend, Ally.”

Here it is. That awkward moment when you want to gouge out your best friend’s brother’s eyes, and perhaps a few other unnecessary appendages.

Our eyes lock. Kendall, Cruise, and all of Garrison disappear for a moment, and I’m left contemplating a homicide with nothing more than the nail file I stuck in my pocket an hour ago.

“Hello,
Morgan
.” I draw my weapon first. It comes from me a little more aggressively than necessary but I figure I should set the tone for this, the next leg of our nonexistent relationship. “Who I have
never
met before.” I shake his hand like a threat. So help me God if he spews the inglorious details of our little carnal cash exchange right here in the parking lot in front of his blood relation, and the meandering ears of my dorm sisters, I might be moved to perform a spontaneous castration with my teeth.

I cringe a little at the idea because I distinctly remember something of that nature occurring before I blacked out.

“Nice to meet you, Ally.” He leans in with his seductive gaze, a smile playing on his lips but he’s too cocky to give it. “Who I have
never
met before.” He drips the words with sarcasm, and it makes both Kendall and Cruise sit up at attention. I glare over at the two of them and they’re quick to duck into the safety of Russell Hall.

“It’s
you!
” It rips from me like the expletive it is.

His brows rise. His chest vibrates with a silent laugh as if he’s indignant at how unimpressed I am with his tightwad ass.

“Sixteen dollars?” I hiss, just this side of tears.

“Sixteen dollars?” He moves in close. “You have my sixteen bucks?”

My eyes widen. What the hell? Does he honest to God think I’ve got a pimp in the mix? I bet he gave it to Dell. It’s obvious he’s done this before and is up to date on the protocol.

He holds out his hand like he’s expecting something.

“I want my sixteen dollars back.” His lips pull into a line and my mouth drops open because swear to God if he’s not shitting me there’s going to be a knifing.

A group of girls from Alpha Chi stroll by in their matching luau wear and rainbow-colored leis. Two of the girls crane their necks to get a better look at my
john.

“Oh. My. God.” It takes every ounce of self-control not to snatch a neighboring lei and strangle this dipshit—the symbolism alone would be worth the prison sentence. “Are you asking for a refund?” It comes from me smooth, and surprisingly restrained.

“A refund?” He pushes in with those storm-colored eyes. “You thought I paid for sex?”

“Shh!” I dance around in a fit of delirium. “I refuse to discuss last night’s brain malfunction out in the open. Prostitution is
illegal,
by the way. And, yes”—I give a wild-eyed stare—“you left sixteen lousy bucks! What’s the matter? All out of pocket change?”

“I’m confused.” He holds out his hands in surrender, and his chest expands to the size of a refrigerator. “I’m a guy. I’m not the brightest. I don’t attend Garrison.” He says
Garrison
with insulting air quotes that only douchebags use to mock institutions of higher learning. “Are you saying I shouldn’t have left the money? Or that I didn’t leave enough?”

A choking sound emits from my throat because, damn it all to hell, he’s guilty of
both
charges. My entire body goes rigid. There are so many insults storming my vocal cords I’m literally gagging.

“Ally?” Kendall pops up from behind lugging a giant box. “I’ll just put this in the back of his truck since your car is full.” She gives a little wink.

“This is it.” Cruise drops off a stack of boxes he muscled down all on his own. Figures. Morgan here is proving himself useless already. Typical male—love ’em and leave ’em, then let someone else do all the heavy lifting. “You guys want to meet us down at Pete’s Fish and Chips tonight? My treat.”

Kendall leans in and whispers something in his ear.

“Okay”—Cruise looks uneasy—“how about the Della Argento restaurant, instead?”

Kendall nudges him in the ribs. I can tell she’s gunning for this to be special for her big bro and me.

“My treat,” he grits. Cruise gets that faraway look in his eyes as if he’s trying to mentally rework the mortgage on the B and B just to pay for our impending nosh-fest. Cruise wipes the sweat from his brow with his shoulder. Cruise is gorgeous
and
courteous, unlike Morgan here who only has the first half down; and seeing that genetics played a huge part in that, I’m back to finding him useless.

“Sounds good to me.” Morgan pushes out a grin with the hint of a dare.

“Sounds good to me too.” I bite the air with my response.

Morgan ticks his head back with that cockier-than-hell smile spreading slow across his face. “Why don’t we get those boxes out of your car and we can ride to your new place together?” he offers, tipping his head back with those hooded eyes set to seduce as if he’s trolling for more of that bargain-basement affection.

“That’s perfect.” Kendall is quick to motivate Cruise to evacuate the boxes from my Honda as if it were about to combust. “That way you can get to know one another right away.”

I ride a quick glance up and down his body and the memory of him writhing over me reduces me to cinders.

I wonder what Kendall would think if I told her that we got to “know” each other rather proficiently last night.