Dearest Series Boxed Set (35 page)

“You don’t need a designer. I can do a cover for you.” I reach into my purse, hoping I can find some gum so I don’t kill her with my hangover breath.

Her face lights up like I just told her Henry Cavill wants her to have his baby. “That would be huge! I will totally pay you.”

I shake my head. “No way. You’re my roommate. It’s, like, against the code or something.”

She pauses to look at Jenna and then turns back to me. “Okay, if you’re not going to take my money, let me buy you some art supplies because I know that shit is expensive.”

With that new art class I’m auditing, I could use some supplies. I offer her a stick of gum. “Deal, but I want to read your book. Jenna says you’re a great writer.”

She kicks Jenna’s seat and then pauses. Silence fills the car. I’m about to say it’s not a big deal and to forget it when she says, “All right, but you’re sworn to secrecy. I write under a pen name, and I don’t want that getting out. And when I say secrecy, we’re talking blood oath or I get your first child.”

I laugh, but I know she’s being serious.

Once we start talking about designs and concepts, she lets her guard down, and the conversation flows easily. When Clem isn’t scowling, she’s downright captivating with a natural kind of charisma. It makes me wonder what happened to her that has her so closed off, which makes me more eager to read her book.

When we reach Ryan’s house, we lug the laundry up the stairs. I trail behind, too tired to keep up. Inside, I hear Ryan call my roommate Clemster. I’m surprised she doesn’t punch him, but Ryan seems to be able to say things no one else can.

I drop the laundry in the hall and duck into the kitchen to put a few groceries in the refrigerator. Jenna pops in behind me.

“I should warn you,” she whispers. “Have you met Clem’s twin?”

I turn to look at her. “No.”

“He’s here, and he’s totally beautiful but kind of a man-whore. Don’t let him charm you. Clem kinda hates when he tries to hookup with her friends.” Her Southern accent is soft with a musical quality to it, but I know she means business.

“Good to know. Thanks for the warning.”

This is what I need. Girl bonding. I haven’t thought about what happened last weekend all morning. Thank God. Maybe I’m over it. Over him. Who needs hot hookups in a club when you have good girlfriends?

Jenna winks and hands me a beer. I wander into the living room, which is full of guys. The Notre Dame theme music is blaring from the flatscreen that’s mounted on the wall, and I turn to try to figure out the score.

“Cool. Who are the Irish playing?” I ask no one in particular. Ryan comes up and hugs me.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

“Hi, Ryan.” I grin. Jenna’s boyfriend is awesome. I met him for twenty minutes last week, and he immediately treated me like one of their inner circle.

“They’re playing Stanford. I didn’t know you were a football fan.”

“Yeah, I love football and basketball, but really, I like anything that includes mascots, beer and brats.”

“I knew I liked you. Hey, I don’t think you’ve met my band.” He turns me to face everyone and starts to introduce me to his friends.

But I don’t hear anything he says because sitting there, at the end of the couch, is a familiar face. A very familiar face.

My breathing stops, and sweat breaks out on my forehead.

Finally, Ryan’s words break through my fog. “And this asshole here is Jax, Clem’s twin. You’ll want to stay away from him,” Ryan jokes. “He’s a slut.”

Yeah. I caught that already.

Shit.

W
hat’s worse
than learning you almost slept with your new roommate’s brother? Um, that would be him not remembering you.

I wait for the recognition, the look in his eyes that says, yes, I went down on you and lapped you up like a Slurpee, but it never comes. In fact, he barely glances in my direction. Finally, he yells, “Down in front, girls.”

Oh my God.

Was he that drunk last Saturday night? I swear he seemed fine. I was more buzzed than he was. So not only did he stop us from doing it—which is totally offensive now that I know he sleeps with a lot of girls—but then he ditched me. And now doesn’t remember me.

#Asshole

I would scream right now if I weren’t in a room full of people. Instead, I chug my beer, ignore the game, and try to busy myself in the kitchen with Jenna and Clem as they make lunch. But I can’t look at my roommate. If Clem finds out I screwed around with Jax, she’ll hate me. Isn’t that why I hated Ashley? Because she violated the roommate code. I’ve always honored those unspoken rules. Until now.

Damn it. Jenna
just
told me to stay away from Clem’s brother.

I fight back tears and excuse myself to run to the bathroom where I pull out my phone. There’s a message from Travis.

“Guess who I saw at the art lab? You’re going to die! And he asked about you…”

I ignore his question and start a mad flurry of texts. Two minutes later, my phone lights up.

“Oh! My! God! What are you going to do? Did you know he was Clem’s brother?”

I write back.
“Of course I didn’t fucking know!”

Eventually I realize I can’t hide next to the toilet forever, and I open the door and peek down the hall. Everyone seems to be crowding in the living room. I step out slowly, wondering if I should bolt for the front door and never look back.

Someone’s arguing. I hear Clem’s voice. After a minute, I duck into the kitchen right as Clem races down the hallway to the back stairs. Jenna joins me, shaking her head.

She leans into me and lowers her voice. “One of the guys said shit to Clem about her ex-boyfriend Daren who plays football for BC and was just on TV, talking about his fiancée. If you read her book, you’ll learn the whole story.” She motions toward the now empty hallway. “Clem’s dying that a room full of people heard the whole thing.”

That sucks.

“Do you need to go talk to her?” I ask.

“No, she’ll want to hide in a cave for a little while.” Good to know I’m not the only one who runs for cover. “I’ll give her half an hour, but once lunch is ready, I’m going to haul her ass back up here. My guess is she’s doing laundry right now. Or killing someone’s pet.”

Jenna laughs. I think she’s joking. I hope.

How do I know this girl?

My sister’s roommate stares at me like we’ve met, like we’re friends. Hell, like we’re more than friends. But all I draw is a blank.

Her expression is a cross between excitement, fear and horror. Yes, that’s what I do to women.

In sweats and a black t-shirt that hugs her small frame, she looks like she’s sixteen, especially since she’s not wearing makeup. But she’s beautiful. Delicate.

I start to worry that I slept with her in some drunken state, but nothing about Dani makes me think that’s possible. First of all, her tits aren’t hanging out like Christmas ornaments. Strike one. Secondly, she lives with Clem. Strike two. Thirdly, she looks too innocent to be interested in me. Strike three.

Nothing in that equation puts her even remotely in the fuckable category.

So then why do I have an immediate boner? And why does she keep looking at me like that?

Fuck. I rub my temple, the pounding nearly unbearable.

Concussions suck. The doctor said the headaches should go away within a week, but a week has gone by, and I’m still miserable.

I had to fucking scale Hannah’s balcony to get into her apartment. Or at least that’s what I’m told since I don’t remember any of it.

I leapt over the railing, something I’ve done all the other times she got locked out. Except this time I slipped, slammed my head on her grill and blacked out. Good thing the building manager arrived to unlock the door.

Chloe saw the whole thing through the sliding glass door, me wiping out. It scared the shit out of her. I woke up to her screams.

As it turns out, the soup Hannah left on the stove had burned to a crisp, so even though my coach thinks I got a concussion because I was out partying on my birthday, I know the truth.

And I’d do it again. Chloe reminds me of Clementine. It’s the way she looks at me like I can fix anything. It’s been years since my sister looked at me like that, and it sucks that we’ve grown apart. It’s my fault. I can’t do anything about it now, but when I look at little Chloe, it makes me want to protect her.

Of course, no good deed goes unpunished. I’m on probation because I had to miss several practices. Coach says one more screwup and I’m off the team. Happy fucking birthday to me.

I
spend
the rest of the day avoiding Jax like he has the Ebola virus. After lunch, someone knocks on the front door, and an Amazonian-looking supermodel saunters in. She doesn’t bother telling anyone hi. Instead, she heads straight to Jax and drops into his lap, making a point to tongue him up in front of a room full of people.

The guys love the show, and they hoot and holler like she’s doling out free lap dances. Clem, who seems to have recovered from her earlier embarrassment, rolls her eyes and makes a gagging sound. I’m starting to like her more and more.

And, yeah, I’m painfully and ridiculously jealous.

On the way home, I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the seat. The purr of the car is strangely soothing. I can’t wait to get home so I can die an appropriate death alone. All I can think of is how he kissed that girl back and how his lips must have felt.

“Can you believe my brother?” Clem asks, breaking into my misery.

I stiffen immediately. I don’t think I’m in a position to say anything so I keep my mouth shut.

She continues without any encouragement. “Why can’t he grow up and stop being such a slut? That girl was skeevy.”

“I think I’ve seen her in a Calvin Klein ad,” Jenna says.

Ugh. That’s where I recognize her from.

If I ever thought there was a chance in hell he’d be interested in me, today shot down that delusion. Of course he loves bombshells. What guy doesn’t? I’m Midwest and corn-fed. She’s runway and underfed. She probably survives on two carrots and a twig a day.

Tears brim my eyes, and I blink them away quickly. I don’t know why I want to cry. I set out for a one-night hookup and that’s what I got. The problem is I know this guy, and I’ll probably have to see him around.

At least he goes to Boston College. That’s far enough away. It’s better than seeing him around campus. That’s another freakish twist of luck. On the night of his birthday, he was hanging out in BU territory. Under normal circumstances, our paths would probably never cross.

Except I did see him at that pizza place first.

I talk myself in a dizzying circle, trying to make sense of the whole situation.

Eventually, I come to a conclusion. I’ll avoid him. Plain and simple. How hard could that be?

* * *

T
he next afternoon
, Travis is waiting for me at work with a mocha and a bear hug. I throw my backpack behind the desk and collapse into a chair.

“Thanks for the drink.”

I take a sip and let the caffeine settle into my body. I’m exhausted. Although I went to bed early last night, I tossed around for hours before I finally fell asleep.

Travis nudges me and motions toward the computer screen in front of him. I roll my chair closer to his cubicle. “I think you need to see who you let lick your lady garden.”

I close my eyes, hoping no one heard us, but some guy next to us chuckles. I smack Travis in the arm, and he laughs.

Finally, I focus on the website he’s pulled up. Staring back at me is the object of my contempt and affection.

Jax Avery.

“What is this?” I’m glad I’m sitting down.

“Gossip website.” Travis pokes my knee. “Did you have any idea he’s, like, a bazillionaire?”

I shake my head, still trying to process the image in front of me. In the photo, Jax is walking up to a red sports car. The marquee for Cages is in the background. “It was taken last Saturday.”

The caption reads, “Playboy and heir to the Avery fortune parties it up at Cages before some fun on the town with Calvin Klein model Natasha Kozlov.”

“Oh,” Travis says as he scrolls through his phone. “It’s all over Twitter too.” He shows me the screen.

Dear God. The man went down on me and then ran off to hook up with a supermodel. No wonder he didn’t want to sleep with me! Why have a hamburger when you can down steak and lobster with a side order of shrimp?

I burrow my head into Travis’s chest, and his arm wraps around me.

“This is so fucking humiliating,” I mumble against him.

Travis strokes my hair. “No one knows. It’s fine. Next time you see him, keep pretending you don’t care because as far as he knows, you don’t.”

I nod because I can’t bring myself to talk. After a while, Travis releases me from his embrace, and I look around to make sure no one is paying attention. Fortunately, everyone is working at their cubicles.

Travis bumps me with his elbow. “I have one word to get you over this Jax bullshit: Brady Shepherd.”

“Those are two words. And who the hell is Brady Shepherd?”

He gives me a look. “Uh, hello, hot tattoo guy, the one who got you half naked to pierce your nips.”

“Shhh! I can’t take you anywhere.”

Apparently, I shush too loudly and a few people shoot me dirty looks.

Travis chuckles. “I saw him here yesterday evening. He totally asked about you, and I might have mentioned you work here.”

“Okay.” I’m confused why that guy would care where I work.

“My point being that Brady is every bit as hot as Jax. And you might see him here.” Travis pauses. “Or he might call you.” His mouth tilts up into a wide grin.

“Travis, how would he have my number to call me?” Not that I’d necessarily mind because, yeah, Brady is hot, but I hate being set up, and my head feels too jumbled to go out on any dates.

“A little birdie might have given him your number.”

I roll my eyes. “Fine. Whatever. I just want to say that it was this very thing—trying to get over Reid—that got me in this predicament with Jax.” I log on to my laptop. “Maybe I should lay off any overt attempt to fix my life and just be.”

“Or instead of laying
off
, you get laid
on
.” He laughs at his own joke.

“You’re such a gossip whore. You want juicy details so you can get your jollies off some hot boys.”

He feigns offense and then laughs. “As long as someone gets a hot boy.”

Although I smile at Travis for trying to make me feel better, I’m thinking I’m done with guys for a while, and I’m definitely done with Jax. I can’t think of one thing that would persuade me otherwise.