Me (New Adult Erotic Romance) (Perfect Chaos #1) (2 page)

Embarrassment or pride, whatever it was, left me with no desire to see him or speak to him. But now, I was helpless as I stared into those beautiful hazel eyes mesmerized by how amazing he looked, older and hotter, if that’s possible, with scruff and rocking a man bun. Be still my ovaries.

“Hi Kenny,” he said with a wink, and it snapped me out of my trance.

“Hi Becky,” I replied.              

A ridiculously large smile spread across his perfect face, and I turned back to the guy in the yellow polo before I melted into a pathetic puddle.

“Nice to see someone found her sense of humor.”

“Nice to see someone still doesn’t know how to shut up,” I spat.

Jimmy held his hand up and then put it back down. His lips moved a few times before finally saying, “Uh, a dollar fifty.” I reached in my pocket for the money, but Beckham beat me to it, handing over a five.

I let out an exaggerated sigh, grabbed my coffee, and took off toward my first class.

“Hey, wait up,” Beckham called out, and jogged up beside me. “I buy you your caffeine fix, and this is how you repay me?”

“First of all, I don’t need you buying my coffee. Secondly, why are you even here? Last I checked, you went to school on the other side of the country.”

He smirked. “Not anymore. I officially transferred last semester.”

“Here?” I asked, dread filling my tone.

“You betcha.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and I did everything in my power to ignore how good it felt. “Now, what are the chances that you would choose the same school as me?”

I shrugged his arm off my shoulder, and threw my hands up in defeat. “Clearly someone up there hates me.”

Beckham walked in front of me, and grabbed each of my arms, holding me in place. I locked eyes with him, and became a gooey mass of putty in his hands. “There was a time when we got along.”

I didn’t say anything. He was right. Once upon a time, we talked about everything. Late nights when I couldn’t sleep, he’d always find me downstairs, and we’d spend hours talking about life, and our favorite movies. It got to the point where I would plan out rendezvous with him, even when I was exhausted just so I could spend time with him.

It was innocent, and I knew now he probably thought of me more as a younger sister then. So, when I threw myself at him like a rabid dog in heat on my sixteenth birthday, things changed, and the only person to blame was me.

“You can’t hate me forever,” he finally said.

There was a vulnerability in his eyes, something that I’d rarely ever seen. He was always hiding behind his charm, but this was different. It was almost as if, after all this time, the way I acted, like I despised him, actually bothered him.

The slightest hint of guilt found its way to my heart, and I smiled slowly and genuinely. “No, but I can try,” I joked.   

He snaked his arm back around me. “That I can work with,” he exclaimed.

“By the way, what’s going on with the hair?” I asked, and made the mistake of running my fingers along the top of his head. I pulled my hand back, and tucked it into my jeans, away from dangerous territory.

“Chicks love it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, if you like that dirty hobo look.”

“This,” he ran his hand over the bun. “Is not dirty. Go ahead. Smell it.” He pushed his head toward my nose.

I grabbed the knob with my hand, and playfully pushed him away. He didn’t let it deter him, and continued to shove his hair near my face. I laughed at the absurdity. “I’m not going to smell your hair.”

“Just a sniff,” he said, with a sexy lift of his eyebrow, and I could feel the heat rushing to my cheeks. “You know you want to.” 

Damn it, I did. I leaned in, intending to take the quickest of inhales, but when the fresh scent with a hint of mint engulfed my senses, I was entranced.

He lifted his head back up, and a knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Told you. Chicks can’t resist the man bun.”

It wasn’t just the man bun. It was him.

Chapter 3

Beckham insisted on walking me to class, and after all this time of avoiding him, planning my life around when he would stop by my house, I finally gave in. Besides, he always was good company.

Maybe I didn’t need to start fresh completely. A familiar face would actually be nice to see around. The only problem was, he was hotter than ever, and that one passion-fueled kiss we shared so long ago, pushed its way back to the front of my mind, and was currently playing on rotation.

“What’s your schedule like?” he asked, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his luscious lips. That damn pouty bottom lip was like a magnet that pulled and drew me in, with a resistance that was damn near impossible to fight.  

I managed to look away, and reached into my bag for my schedule. I unfolded the paper and concentrated on the list of classes.

“Let me see that,” he said and snatched it from my hands. “Sociology, Statistics, English 101, Art History and Western Civ. I forgot how awful the first semester is. You’ll be lucky if you can stay awake in any of them.”

I took my schedule back, stuffing it into my bag, and shrugged. “Art history sounds interesting.”

He pointed his finger at me, and nodded. “You might actually like that class. Though, personally I liked Art History II better. Everything before that is all kind of boring.”

“Oh, good. So, what you’re telling me is, I’m going to be living off of this.” I held my coffee cup up then took a sip.”

We walked up to the building, and Beckham held the door for me. “You should look into getting an IV drip. You might need it.”   

“Great,” I sighed.

“Your class is this way.” He pointed to the right, and I followed behind him, taking a second to watch as he walked away. His jeans still sat perfectly on his hips, and his simple t-shirt still looked amazing as it strained against his muscles.

I needed to get away from him before I foolishly threw myself at him again.

“Here it is,” he said, pivoting back around to face me.

“Thanks for showing me to class. I’ll see you around,” I said, and went to walk past him, but he moved with me, blocking my way.

“You’re dismissing me so soon?”

“I have class.”

He grabbed his chest in an over dramatic gesture. “You break my heart.”

Two girls walked toward us, giggling and ogling him.

“Hi Becks,” the brunette with too much makeup on, cooed as she paraded between us. She winked her over-mascaraed lashes at him before disappearing into the class.

His hand was still on his chest, and I rolled my eyes. “You’ll survive.” If he wanted to talk about breaking hearts, I was pretty sure I beat him in that department. Getting left practically naked and alone at sixteen was like someone reached into my chest and ripped my heart out.

“See you after class, then.”

“I think I got it from here. You don’t need to show me around.”

“But I want to,” he said, and I had to bite back the smile.

If Beckham wanted to spend time with me, then sure, what the hell. “I’ll see you after class then,” I said with a wink, and strutted into class.

My phone vibrated in my bag as soon as I took my seat. I reached for it, and a new text from Nixon flashed across the screen. I swiped my phone.

Nixon:
Did your chaperone find you okay?

My heart sunk at the words. Beckham wasn’t showing me around because he wanted to show me around. No. He was doing it because of my damn brother. Of course. How stupid could I be?

Frustration seeped in as I stared at the text. Nixon was always in my business. He could never just leave me alone, and let me do my own thing. Even when he went away to school, he still managed to get Mom and Dad to not let me do things. He acted like my goddamn father, and it pissed me off. I should’ve known that going away to college meant he’d still try to find a way to control my life.

Kennedy:
I’m an adult. I don’t need a chaperone.

I hit send, and tried not to grind my teeth. My friends thought it was so cute that Nix was so overprotective of me…if they only knew how seriously inconvenient it really was.

Nixon:
Says the girl who passed out drunk in the bushes

Ugh! It was the night of graduation. I was celebrating with my friends. It’s not like he never got drunk. I remembered the night I lured Beckham in my room, and finally got to kiss him. The slight taste of beer on his perfect mouth. And he was coming from Nix’s room. I wasn’t stupid. The two of them got drunk in there all the time. My brother was a fucking hypocrite.

Kennedy:
Like you never did anything stupid. Give me a break.

Nixon:
I never got caught. No proof. It might as well have never happened.

The professor walked in and I watched as he walked behind his desk and placed his suitcase on top. This was my first college class. I needed to pay attention and not be arguing with my brother who was halfway across the freaking country.

Kennedy:
Class is starting and I’m done with this conversation. Goodbye.

Nixon:
Tell Becks I say hi.

Kennedy:
You can tell him right when you tell him I don’t need a chaperone.

Nixon:
Sure…Now go learn something.

It was official. I wanted to kill my brother.

***

Class let out, and I raced for the door, hoping if Beckham was serious about showing me to my next class, I’d be able to make a getaway before he got here. Now that I knew my brother was once again medaling in my life, I was pissed. I should’ve known. Why would I think Beckham would want to spend time with me? In his eyes, I was probably still that sixteen year old kid. I was an idiot to think he finally saw me as a desirable woman. I should’ve known better.

I barely had a foot out the door before I heard my name float across the hallway in that beautiful sexy voice. It was like a lasso, tying around me, and pulling me back to him. I knew he was only pretending to take an interest in me as a favor to my brother, but unfortunately it didn’t change anything. I still had a hard time resisting him.

He had this magic over me that I couldn’t explain. Which is the reason why after the incident, I made sure I wasn’t home when I knew he would be around, and if I was, I hid safely in my room. He was like a walking poster of my worst rejection. Over time, the pain and humiliation of my failed seduction faded, but the memory was still shining bright in my mind. I was amazed that earlier I was able to ignore it. But now, with him walking toward me with that gorgeous smile and confident stride, it all came flooding back in.

“How was your first class?” he asked, with a sugar-coated smile that I was done falling for.

I was sick of hiding. Tired of feeling like a pitiful little girl every time he was around. I wasn’t her anymore. She was left back home.

I stood tall, squaring my shoulders. “Why do you care? I wouldn’t think caring or even talking to me is a part of the arrangement you and my brother have made.”

Beckham ran a hand over his chin, and winced. “Nix told you.”

“Yes, Nix told me. And I’m going to tell you exactly what I told him. I don’t need a goddamn chaperone. So fuck off.” I stormed away from him, wanting, needing to put as much distance between us as I could.

A large hand wrapped around my wrist and the warmth spread through me like a cozy campfire. Beckham was the only person who could affect me with a single touch. “Kennedy, hang on.”

I took a deep breath, and swallowed down the lovesick little girl who wanted to cower to his every demand. I wasn’t going to do it. Not anymore. So, I didn’t stop. I kept walking. The only problem was, he didn’t stop either. His hand tightened on my wrist as he kept pace with me.

“You know you can’t outrun me, right?” he said, with a stupid twinkle in his eye.

“No, but I can sure as hell try.” As soon as the words were out, I ran, ripping myself from his grip.

“So, this is how you want to play. Fine,” he yelled after me. I expected him to lay off, and go find some other poor sap to tagalong with. Instead, he jogged up beside me as if he was out for a Sunday stroll while I swore I was breaking records.

“Leave me alone,” I demanded, surprised that more people weren’t stopping and staring at us.

“Not until you talk to me.”

“I have nothing to say.”

“Too bad for you.” His arm snaked around my stomach, and he pushed his weight into me, knocking me off balance. He held me close, as we tumbled to a grassy knoll, me landing on top of him while he took the brunt of the fall. “I’m not done talking,” he breathed out.

He grabbed my waist, and rolled me under him, his arms taut on either side of my head as he held his weight off of me. Green and gold specks shimmered in his amused eyes, and I was a goner. I laid there, a prisoner to his perfection.

His finger grazed my forehead, and he pushed my blonde hair out of my face. Goosebumps prickled my skin at the gentleness of his touch. We stayed like that for a long moment.

“You’re adorable when you get mad.”

I inhaled a shocked, ragged breath. His finger moved, tracing the contour of my face. My tongue dabbed at my bottom lip, and his eyes lingered on that spot.

A debate raged in his irises, and I wanted to settle it. I lifted my head, closing the gap between us. His jaw ticked as he moved his head toward me. Our lips were a whisper away when he rolled off of me.

He rejected me again.

He ran a hand over his face. “Sorry.”

“Why? At least you didn’t actually kiss me this time,” I snapped, standing up as I wiped the grass from my jeans.

“Kenny,” he said, so softly I barely heard him.

I held my hand up. “Don’t.” I picked my books up off the ground from where they fell out of my bag, and shoved them back in. “Just leave me alone, okay?” I turned back to him, hand on hip, trying my best not to fall victim to the tender way he looked at me.