Bad Boys Break Hearts

by Smeltzer, Micalea

  Fuck, even now my dick stirs at the thought.

  It’s ridiculous how my body reacts to her. After all this time she should be no one to me, a blip, but the fact is back then she was a tether to something more, a solid footing in a world that was nothing but chaos. Then she slipped away, never to be heard from again. Despite everything, she could’ve found a way to reach out to me, I know it. I tried to find her, begged my parents, but they said it wasn’t their place to meddle.

  Looking back now I think they were afraid of getting caught in the storm of Rory’s family drama, the implications that could blow back on Willow Creek, but I was a boy who just wanted to know his friend was okay.

  Scrubbing my hands over my face I let out a groan, the pent-up frustration seeping between my lips.

  I need to get Rory off my mind. She’s someone I used to know. That’s it. She’s no one now.

  “Fuck it,” I mutter to myself, swiping my phone off the dresser.

  Going to my contacts I click on the first female name in there. Sending a text about dinner this weekend, I’m not surprised when the girl responds in seconds agreeing, a ridiculous amount of exclamation points accompanying her answer.

  Do I really think going out and more than likely fucking someone else is going to help my fucked-up feelings over Rory?

  No. But it’s a start.

  Chapter Nine

  Rory

  The first week of school passes and I don’t have any more run-ins with Mascen. It was dumb of me to think for even a second that we might have a class together. He’d be a junior so our classes wouldn’t intersect. I have heard his name whispered around. I’m learning he’s pretty much the king of the campus. He’s the guy with connections, the one who apparently throws killer parties, and if what some of the girls have said is true he gives the best orgasms they’ve ever had.

  Stop thinking about him.

  Grabbing my truck keys off my desk, I head out to the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  I nearly jump out of my skin when Kenna’s voice breaks into my thoughts. She pops up from the couch like a fucking whack-a-mole.

  Placing a hand to my racing heart, I answer her. “I’m going to see if I can find a job on campus or close by. I thought I’d pick up some groceries while I’m out too.”

  “A job?” She wrinkles her nose like she’s never heard of such a thing. “Why do you need a job?”

  I blink at her. “For money.”

  “Don’t your parents give you money?”

  I know she’s not trying to be mean or hurt my feelings, she’s literally that clueless. She’s grown up rich with everything handed to her and can’t imagine anyone else living any other way.

  “I’m here on a scholarship, so if I want spending money I need to work.”

  Luckily, I’ve saved quite a bit, but I know if I don’t get a job I’ll go through it quickly and that thought doesn’t sit well with me.

  Her face falls and she looks truly apologetic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Her words are rushed, her face suddenly tinged red.

  “I didn’t tell you.” It’s not that I’m embarrassed about it, but at a college catered to children of the rich, famous, and elite, it’s not something I want to pass around too much.

  “You could have. I wouldn’t judge you. I don’t think Li would either.” She glances to the other girl’s closed door.

  “I know.” I bow my head. “This one is all me. I should’ve told you guys.”

  “I want us to be friends, Rory. We’re living together and…” She plays with the hem of her sweatshirt tossed over her thin body. “I’m realizing now that my friends back home weren’t actually that. It was all superficial bullshit. I don’t want that anymore.”

  My heart softens toward my roommate. “A real friend would be nice. Friends,” I amend, looking at Li’s door too. “I need to go.”

  “Right, of course. Sorry.” She shakes her head, sitting back down on the couch. “Good luck with the job hunt.”

  “Thanks.” I smile at her before easing out of the room and down the hall.

  It’s fairly empty this early in the morning, but I can hear voices behind some of the doors.

  Pushing the button for the elevator, I wait and head down. Outside the building the sky is a brilliant crystal clear blue with only a few random poufy clouds. As I walk toward the parking lot I inhale the fresh scent of the flowers planted all over.

  With the medieval, almost castle-like buildings the campus reminds me of some sort of old school fortress or something from a fairytale. It’s ironic, I suppose, considering I’m named after a princess that I’d end up here. Ironic or not, attending Aldridge University is not an opportunity I’m going to scoff at.

  Hopping into my truck, I drive around the large campus, stopping at some of the various kiosks, the two bars, and couple of restaurants, but all of them tell me their spots are filled.

  “Off campus it is,” I mutter to myself, getting back into my truck. Honestly, this suits me better. I’ll have to interact less with the student population.

  Driving out through the stone arch that marks the entrance to the school, I hop on the highway, heading to the neighboring town. My heart rate spikes in recognition, knowing Mascen’s townhome is somewhere nearby. I can’t remember exactly where the Uber picked me up thanks to my epic hangover, but I do know I was around here.

  I park on Main Street, feeding some coins into the meter. At least unlike on campus my old rickety truck doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb.

  A breeze stirs my hair, the long brown strands tickle my cheek as I walk down the street looking for any Help Wanted signs.

  I come across a restaurant that has a sign posted that they’re in need of staff and head inside.

  It’s large and semi-upscale looking. Photos cover every inch of the brick walls showcasing the history of the town. On the back wall the name of the restaurant, Marcelo’s, is spelled out in marquee letters.

  There’s a bar to the right and I head over there.

  A guy a couple years older than me wipes a glass clean. His dark, nearly black, hair brushes his shoulders and his tanned skin is made even darker thanks to his crisp white button down.

  “Hi,” I say, cringing at how high-pitched my voice sounds.

  He puts down the glass, looking me over and smiles. “How can I help you?” There’s a twinkle of mischief in his chocolate eyes.

  I toss a thumb over my shoulder. “I saw the sign in the window about hiring.”

  “Oh, yeah. Let me grab Izzy. Wait a second.”

  He sets the glass down and tosses the rag over his shoulder, weaving around the bar and through a swinging door. I slide onto a barstool, waiting for what I assume is the manager.

  Smoothing my hands down my pants, I exhale a weighted breath, trying to rid myself of nerves. I’ve done plenty of interviews, but when you’re desperate for work you can’t help but be a little jittery. If I want to be able to afford groceries and treat myself to the occasional bag of Hershey Kisses then a job is a must.

  A minute later the bartender returns, a woman trailing behind him that looks nearly identical in features, same colored skin, black hair, but their eyes are different colors. Where his are brown, hers are a unique shade of green.

  “Hello, I’m Isabella, but I go by Izzy.” She sticks her hand out and I note her well-manicured fingers.

  “Aurora, but I prefer Rory.” I shake her hand, smiling at her. She’s beautiful, but not intimidatingly so. There’s something soft and kind in her eyes that puts me at ease.

  “This is my brother Aldo,” she nods in the direction of the bartender, “our parents own the restaurant but we’re the ones who run it now.”

  Aldo snorts. “Yeah, and that’s why Mama and Papa are always in the kitchen barking orders.”

  Izzy’s cheeks turn pink, but she ignores her brother. “Well, then. Why don’t we head to the back. I can get you an application and—”

  “Please
,” I blurt out, almost embarrassed by how quickly the plea leaves me. “I need this job. I’ve done waitressing before. I’ve never had any issues in the past and I’m a hard worker.”

  Izzy’s eyes stray to her brother and he shrugs. “We do need the help.” She bites her lip. “What kind of waitressing did you do before?”

  “In a local diner.” It was in walking distance from the trailer before I inherited the truck so it was convenient. Plus, the owner Marty was always kind and looked out for me. He slipped more than one free meal my way once he caught on to the fact that I wasn’t being fed at home. “I kind of did it all, waiting tables, cleaning up, register.”

  Izzy nods with each word that leaves my mouth. “Did you use a computer system like this?” She motions me behind the bar to a fancy monitor.

  “Not quite this nice, but close enough. I think I could get the hang of it.”

  She twists her lips, exchanges a glance with her brother yet again, before finally nodding.

  “All right, you have the job. How soon can you start?”

  “Immediately.”

  Her eyes widen, but she smiles. “Perfect.”

  * * *

  Hours later, with all the paperwork filled out, I’m hard at work taking orders and tending to tables. I had to run out and buy proper clothes to wear for the job, changing in the restaurant bathroom once I got back, but I’ve already made enough in tips to cover the cost. As it moves into evening the restaurant is packed. Apparently it’s a favorite with the locals.

  Aldo and Izzy’s parents showed up around three o’clock and have been keeping an eye on all the food that leaves the kitchen. I’ve already learned that Marcelo, their father, started this restaurant with their mother, Martina, when both were in their mid-twenties. It makes sense why they’re having trouble handing over complete control to their children.

  Every so often I catch Aldo watching me from the bar. Whenever our eyes meet he tosses a smile my way. He’s definitely more easy-going than Izzy. She’s plenty nice, sure, but I can already tell he’s more of the goofball type. While he manages the bar, Izzy darts around, checking on tables and making sure the patrons are happy.

  I head back to the kitchen to see if an order is ready when Izzy glides up to me. “Is everything going good? You’re handling all the tables okay? I’m so sorry you got saddled with so many on your first day. It’s not like Heather to call in sick and—”

  I know if I don’t silence her she’ll continue to talk a mile a minute, and honestly if she doesn’t take a breath soon I’m afraid she might pass out. “So far so good. If I need help with anything I’ll let you know.” I hope I don’t sound rude, but I don’t want her worrying about me when she’s clearly already stressed to the max over running the restaurant while her parents oversee from the sidelines.

  She lets out a relieved breath. “Good, that’s good. I think we lucked out with you walking in here this afternoon.”

  I smile, pleased by her words. “I’m happy to be here.” It may only be day one, but I feel like this is going to be a pretty good place to work.

  Izzy darts off again, over to the bar to help Aldo since it’s growing increasingly busy.

  Grabbing an order for one of my tables from the kitchen I freeze when I walk out, the swinging door nearly smacking my ass. Across from me Mascen enters the restaurant, a leggy blonde in a red dress draped against his side. He says something to the host and then they’re brought to a table.

  In my fucking section.

  I shouldn’t be surprised at my sour luck at this point in my life, but of course I silently curse the gods who love to smite me. If they’d been seated just a few tables over they would’ve been put in Felicity’s section, another waitress I only met briefly in passing.

  “Rory,” Izzy prompts, nodding her head toward my table waiting for the food on the tray I’m holding.

  Shaking myself free of the prison my surprise put me in, I breeze to the table, a smile on my face as I set down the orders of eggplant parma and five-layer lasagna.

  I have to admit, the lasagna looks fantastic and I’m debating taking some home. Just looking at it makes my stomach rumble.

  “Can I get you anything else?” I ask the couple. They both tell me no. “Enjoy your meal. I’ll be by to check on you.”

  Lowering the tray, I force my smile to stay plastered to my face as I walk over to the table Mascen sits at. The girl with him sits right beside him instead of across, leaning her whole body into him. The way her hand moves under the table she’s either rubbing his thigh or giving him a handjob.

  Please don’t let it be a handjob. I do not want to have to clean cum off the seats.

  “Good evening, my name is Aurora,” I emphasize my full name, “and I’ll be your server this evening. Can I get you started with an appetizer? Perhaps some wine?”

  Mascen’s eyes dart up to me, surprise evident on his face. Quickly, the surprise melts into anger. Even his nostrils flare.

  Come on, Wade, what is it you’re so pissed about?

  He angles his body toward me, his date’s hand falling away. In fact, he basically blocks her like she’s not even there.

  “What are you doing here, Rory?”

  “Actually, it’s Aurora,” I correct him. He has no right to call me Rory, not when he looks at me like he wants to kill me. “And I happen to work here. I don’t normally walk around dressed like this and holding an order pad just for fun.” I motion to the tray tucked under my arm, the pad clasped in my hand. Holding the pen against the paper I arch a brow. “Now, what can I get you?”

  His jaw ticks, that elegant, sculpted from stone bone actually moves, reminding me he’s a real breathing human being despite his cold-eyed gaze.

  “All right then, Princess. We’ll take a bottle of your most expensive wine. Don’t care what kind it is. I’ll also have the house draft. Alessa, you look like the kind of girl who likes those prissy umbrella drinks,” he says to his date. “Am I right?” I manage to see her nod, her eyes darting back and forth from Mascen to me like she’s watching a tennis match. “Okay, so bring Alessa a strawberry basil limonata. For an appetizer we’ll have the crab dip. Also, bring new silverware while you’re at it. This is dirty.”

  I open my mouth to question how it’s dirty when the dick face knocks it off the table.

  “Got all that?”

  “Absolutely.” Picking up the cutlery from the floor I turn on my heel, suppressing the need to scream. He infuriates me like no one else and this only makes three encounters with him.

  I enter the order into the system and swipe new silverware from the basket in the kitchen, breezing by the table to drop it off. If he knocks it off again I might shove a fork up his ass. It’s guaranteed to get me fired, probably arrested, but I don’t care.

  “Here are those drinks, Rory,” Aldo calls out, when I pass by.

  “Thanks.” I smile at him and he winks. Grabbing the tray with the beer, fruity drink, bottle of wine, and two glasses, I reluctantly head back to Mascen’s table. I set everything down, managing to keep a smile on my face as I do, and open the bottle of wine, filling each glass halfway. “Have you all decided what you’d like to eat?”

  I bet Barbie gets a salad.

  “Umm,” Barbie leans around his big body, batting her eyes up at him, then looking at me, “I’ll have the berry salad.”

  I knew it.

  “And for you, Satan?”

  Mascen’s lips twitch and he attempts to hide the movement behind his fingers. “I’ll have the steak marsala. Rare.”

  “Bloody unlike your cold dead heart. Got it.” A choked laugh stutters out of his throat and he quickly turns it into a cough. “I’ll put that right in.”

  I turn around, my ponytail swinging. Putting their order in I check on my tables and greet a man who just sat down. I don’t feel tired yet, but I know when it’s time for me to clock out the exhaustion will hit. It’ll be worth it to have money and not worry. Unfortunately, grocery shopping
will have to take place tomorrow.

  When their order is up I grab it. Someone else might spit on his food for what a dick he’s been since I saw him outside Cole’s room, but I’m better than that. Somewhat.

  I slide the salad in front of Barbie and then lift his steak off the tray.

  “Here’s your bloody rare steak, Hannibal Lecter. I hate to tell you it’s from a cow and not the human corpses you normally gnaw on, maybe the local morgue can help you out or there’s always murder.”

  His date is once again looking between the two of us. I can’t blame her for what’s going on and honestly, she’s probably a nice girl and I should stop calling her Barbie, even if it’s only in my head.

  “Such a mouth on you. Bring me another drink.” He lifts his empty beer glass.

  “Right away, Dracula.”

  As I’m walking away I hear his date ask what’s going on with all the nicknames and if he slept with me or something. I’m too far away to hear his reply. What a shame. I do give my eyes a hard roll though at the preposterous idea of the two of us ever bumping uglies. Mascen is wealthy. I’m the hired help.

  “Aldo, another of the house draft.” I tap the bar as I walk past.

  “You got it, Rory.”

  I drop the check off at one of my tables and come back for the beer, taking it to Mascen. His date is missing, the bathroom I assume, so I set down the glass and walk away.

  Heading into the back I fix my ponytail and sip some water. Catching my breath is impossible with so many people out there, so I turn back around, smile ready, and get back to work.

  When I finally make it to Mascen’s table, Barbie is still gone and he’s almost finished eating.

  “Where’d your date go, Heartless?”

  Those gray eyes flick up from his plate to look at me. I swallow past the lump in my throat that’s suddenly lodged there.

  Why does it feel like he can see all of me, the dark pit of my heart, my fears, the rejections.