The Wild Ones (34 page)
When I walked out of the field house, a lot of the guys were hanging out in the parking lot and more than a dozen girls had joined them. They were all wearing short, athletic shorts and T-shirts that read EFHS, so I decided they were the cheerleading squad arriving for practice.
My new arch-rival was holding hands with the hottest one in the group. She was a petite little thing with a tiny waist and a tight shirt to show off her perky breasts. Her long hair was pulled into the classic cheerleader ponytail and I couldn’t decide if it was brown or red, so I settled on calling it auburn.
I walked to my truck, totally expecting a cheap shot and Henderson didn’t surprise me when he yelled across the parking lot, “Hey, superstar, are you still waiting for the NFL to send your first paycheck so you can buy a ride that didn’t come from the junkyard?”
As he laughed caustically, his apparent girlfriend jerked her hand from his and I heard a loud pop as she slapped him across the chest. I was disappointed it wasn’t his face, but she had no reason to defend me and I was surprised she didn’t join him in humiliating me.
I opened the squeaky door to my truck and said, “Wow, Henderson, that was creative for someone that just got bumped to the second string team.”
I got in my truck and shut the door without looking back and before he had the opportunity to retaliate and belittle me further in front of the cheerleading squad. I hesitated in starting the engine as I prayed it wouldn’t stall out on me as it sometimes did. I was incredibly thankful when it started on the first try and I left the field knowing this thing between me and Forbes Henderson was only beginning.
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Thanks M for letting me share a peek of My Favorite Mistake, a New Adult Contemporary Romance which releases September 29! I'm honored to share ebook space with you.
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My Favorite Mistake
Taylor Caldwell can't decide if she wants to kiss her new college roommate or punch him.
On the one hand, Hun
ter Zaccadelli is a handsome, blue-eyed bundle of charm. On the other, he's a tattooed, guitar-playing bundle of bad boy. Maybe that's why Taylor's afraid of falling in love with him, or anyone else. She doesn't want to get burned, and even though her other roommates adore him, she wants him gone before it's too late.
Hunter himself has been been burned before, but the fact that Taylor calls him out on his crap and has the sexiest laugh ever make him decide maybe love isn't a lost cause. They make a bet: if she can convince him she truly loves or hates him, he'll leave the apartment--and leave her alone. The problem is, the more time they spend together, the less she hates him, and the more she moves toward love.
But when the man who holds the key to Taylor's fear of giving up her heart resurfaces and threatens to wreck everything, she has to decide: trust Hunter with her greatest secret, or do everything in her power to win that bet and drive him away forever.
One
The first day I met Hunter Zaccadelli, I punched him in the face. Granted, he completely and totally deserved it. He also asked for it.
When our fourth roommate bailed on us three days before school, Darah, Renee and I assumed housing would take care of it and shove some poor unfortunate in with us. Some poor girl who had decided to switch colleges at the last minute to follow a boyfriend, or someone who had their apartment plans fall through. We weren't sure what to expect, but come move-in day, I did not expect who was waiting outside when I opened the door.
Instead of a desperate and frazzled girl, he showed up with a foot locker, a backpack and a guitar. It was so beyond cliché that I didn't say anything for the full three seconds it took for me to assess him. Dark hair buzzed so short, his head was almost shaved, piercing blue eyes, and at least a foot on my 5'0. And a cocky smile to top it all off. He might as well have had Trouble tattooed on his forehead. I could just make out some ink on his arm, but couldn't see what it was.
“Are you Darah, Renee or Taylor? You look like a Taylor to me,” he said, looking me up and down. I wasn't at my best, considering I was dressed for moving heavy objects in a blue UMaine t-shirt, black soccer shorts, and had my light brown hair in a haphazard bun against the back of my neck. His eyes raked up and down twice, and for some reason the way he assessed me made me blush and want to kick him in the balls at the same time.
“There must be a mistake,” I said.
“That's a creative name. What do you shorten it to? Missy?”
“That's not what I meant.” His grin somehow gets wider. Either his dad was a dentist, or he was really into flossing because those teeth were perfect. I noticed things like that, having gone through my own dental saga between three years of braces and night headgear.
“Is that her?” Darah called from her room where she was arranging her photo frames so they were exactly level. She was neurotic like that.
“I'm Hunter, by the way. Hunter Zaccadelli.” Of course his name was Hunter. The only Hunter I'd ever known had been a complete douche. Looked like this guy was going to carry on the tradition. He shifted his bag on his shoulder. “So, should I bring my stuff in, or...”
“Who's that?” Darah finally emerged. Our other roommate, Renee, was still unloading stuff from her car.
“New roommate, hey,” he said.
“You're the new roommate?” Her eyebrows migrated so they were nearly hidden under her dark bangs. She gave the same up and down as I did, but he didn't do the same to her. He was still looking at me.
“Yeah, my housing plans fell through at the last minute. My cousin was going to let me live at his place, but that didn't work out, so here I am. Do you mind if I come in now?”
“You can't live here,” I said.
“Why? This is a co-ed living facility, last time I checked.” He flashed his smile wider and shouldered his way into the room, completely ignoring me as his chest brushed mine and I got a whiff of cologne. It wasn't that cheap crap that punches you in the nose. It was more spicy, almost like cinnamon. I stood my ground, but he had height and weight on me.
“Well, it's better than sleeping on my cousin's couch,” he said, plunking his bag on the floor, and surveying the room. The suites were small, with a kitchen and tiny nook for a dining table on one side and a tiny living room for an apartment-sized couch and a chair on the other. The bedrooms were the worst, with two beds crammed perpendicular to each other, with the desks crammed underneath, and room for only one small closet.
“Can I see some identification?” Darah said, propping her hands on her hips. “How do we know you're not some random creep?”
“Do I look like some random creep?” He spread his arms out, and I finally saw what the tattoo on his left bicep was. A number seven in curling intricate script. My eyes moved up to his face.
“How are we supposed to know?” Darah moved closer to him, using her stature. They were almost the same height.
“Look, all I know is that I submitted an application and they sent me an email with a room number and your names. Do you treat all your guests like criminals? Here, I printed it out.” He drew out a many-times folded sheet of paper and handed it to Darah. She glanced at it, sighed and handed it to me.
“Why wouldn't they have notified us?” I said, once I'd read it.
“Who knows?” Darah said.
“Oh my God, I swear I'm never moving again,” Renee said from the top of the stairs, her arms full of boxes, and two bags dangling from her arms. “Who left their crap in the hallway?” She stepped over the foot locker and guitar case, giving them a look of disgust. “Has our new roommate showed up – Oh, hell-
o
.” Her voice changed from irritated and dry to sweet and sugary the second she saw Hunter. “I'm guessing that's your guitar in the hallway.” She dropped her stuff and proceeded to pop her hip out and lean to one side. Oh, please.
“
This
,” I said, pointing to Hunter, “is our new roommate, according to housing.”
“No way.” Renee's eyes got wide in her tiny face. Renee looks like a china doll you plucked off a shelf and put in a Victoria's Secret tank top. “Are you shitting me?”
“What a reception,” Hunter said.
“Shut up,” I said. He just smiled again. God, I wanted to smack that smile right off his face.
“I should probably get my junk out of the hall,” he said, going and picking up the foot locker as if it weighed nothing more than a shoebox. Show-off.
Hunter had to navigate boxes and random pillows and crap that littered the rooms, which he did with grace. He found a spot and set the foot locker down, looking at us.
“So, who am I sleeping with?” he said, leaning against the door to my bedroom.
The agreement had been that since Darah and Renee had already been roommates last year, and I was joining their little group, that the new girl would live with me. But that was so not happening now that the new girl wasn't a girl.
“Did you seriously just say that?” I said at the same time Darah said, “The only free bed is in Taylor's room.”
“There is no way he's staying with me,” I snapped, crossing my arms. He'd been staring at my chest ever since he'd made the sleeping with comment. Not that I had much of one to speak of, but that didn't stop his eyes from traveling there.
“No, we're calling housing right now and straightening this out.”
“Tay, they're not open on Monday.”
“I don't care, there must be someone there. It's move-in day.” I grabbed the campus phonebook that had been on the doormat when we'd gotten here this morning and thumbed through it until I found the number for housing.
“Aw, c'mon Missy, you don't want to live with me?” Who did this guy think he was? I'd known him all of ten minutes and he'd already given me a nickname and propositioned me.
“Call me that one more time...” I didn't finish as I furiously typed in the number. Darah and Renee whispered to Hunter, but not quiet enough so I didn't hear them.
“It's best to let her go when she gets like this.”
“I wouldn't mess with her,” he said as I listened to another ring.
Finally, a message picked up, telling me what the hours were, and giving me some extensions I could try. I punched in the first one. No answer, but a message machine picked up. I left a short message, explaining the situation in the most urgent of terms, and then called back the original number. I didn't stop until I'd left messages for all five of the contacts on the housing voicemail list. I slammed my phone down on the counter.
“Feel better?” Hunter said.
“No.” I chucked the phonebook on the couch. Darah and Renee were looking at me like they were worried I was going to explode.
“If you were a gentleman, you'd offer to sleep on the couch.”
“Well, Missy, you'll come to find out that I'm not a gentleman. I plan to take full advantage of this situation.” My mouth dropped open in shock. No guy had ever talked to me that way.
“Is it hot in here? I think I'll open the window,” Renee said, scurrying over to our one window, located behind the couch. Darah looked at me and then Hunter and back.
“Well, there's nothing we can do right now. Let's get his stuff in and then maybe we can go down and see if anyone is at housing.”
“Sounds good to me,” Hunter said, shouldering open my door and walking right in.
“I can't believe this is happening,” I said, closing my eyes. I heard “Back in Black” by AC/DC coming from my room. Hunter's ringtone.
