Heartbreaker (Rascals Book 3)

by Katie McCoy

  Then there was a knock at the door, and a student poked her head in. She had braces and a head of curly dark hair.

  “Hi, Jeannie,” Mrs. Schuster greeted her. “How can I help you?”

  “Are the dance classes coming back?” she asked.

  “We’re not sure yet,” Mrs. Schuster said.

  “Oh, OK.” Jeannie’s expression drooped a little bit.

  “We’ll let you know as soon as we know.” Mrs. Schuster’s voice was gentle.

  My heart went out to Jeannie, who had let out a disappointed groan when Mrs. Schuster had answered. These kids clearly were excited and interested in dance. There was no reason that they shouldn’t get the opportunity to do what they loved.

  “I’d like to try and teach a class,” I told Mrs. Schuster. “If you’d have me.”

  She grinned. “We’d love that,” she said.

  We returned to her office to fill out some paperwork, and she told me that I could come next week for a trial run of a beginning ballet class.

  “The kids will be so excited,” she told me.

  I was excited, too. The other night at the ballet, I had worried that I would never be able to enjoy dance—especially ballet—again. But once I had seen the excitement on those kids’ faces, how eager they were to dance, it reminded me of how fun dancing used to be. Before I made it my career, my life, it used to just be something I did that I enjoyed. That I had a good time doing. Maybe I could get back to it that way and not to take it too seriously.

  I headed back home to change before my shift, the heavenly scent from the Greek restaurant below my apartment stopping me in my tracks. When I wasn’t at Rascals, I was usually there, and had spent many a post-surgery night crying my eyes out to the owners, Nico and Adriana, who had been kind enough to feed me and send me home before I made too much of a fool of myself in front of their customers.

  But since starting my job at Rascals, I hadn’t had as much time to see them, so I stopped in for a quick visit.

  Immediately, Adriana enveloped me in a big hug, smelling of everything good. Her spanakopita had single-handedly brought my appetite back from the dead after a month of dry, tasteless hospital food.

  “Juliet, sweetie!” She took my face in her hands. “You look so thin—have you been eating enough? Are you hungry? Let me feed you!”

  I couldn’t help smiling.

  “I’m OK, Adriana,” I reassured her. “I’ll eat at work.”

  “At a bar?” She shook her head. “They can’t feed you well there.”

  “It’s not as good as your cooking,” I told her. “But it’s not that bad.”

  “Ach.” She waved her hand. “I’m still going to feed you.”

  She patted the stool next to the counter, urging me to sit down before she bustled back into the kitchen and returned with a heaping plateful of rice, vegetables, and lamb. My mouth watered. Even though I hadn’t come in intending to eat, there was no way I was going to turn down Nico’s cooking.

  “Thanks, Nico,” I called out.

  He waved at me from the kitchen.

  “Now, my dear.” Adriana sat down next to me. “Eat and talk.”

  I had just shoved a spoonful of rice and lamb into my mouth, so all I could do was chew for the moment, which gave Adriana enough time to remind me how wonderfully—and occasionally irritatingly—observant she was.

  “You had a date the other night,” she said, and I nearly spit out my food.

  “How could you know that?” I wanted to know.

  “Are you kidding with me?” she asked. “You were kissing some man right outside of the restaurant. I have eyes. The whole block has eyes.”

  I blushed. Liam and I had been pretty much lost in our own world when we came back to my place the other night. No doubt we put on a show for everyone.

  “Who is he?” Adriana demanded.

  “He’s just a friend,” I demurred, but that wasn’t good enough for her.

  “You kiss your friends like that?” she wanted to know. “Lucky friends.”

  I laughed. “OK, so he’s not exactly a friend.”

  Adriana threw up her hands as if to say, “Obviously!”

  “It’s still new,” I cautioned her. “And it’s been made very clear that I’m not exactly this man’s type when it comes to dating.”

  “You certainly looked like his type the other night,” Adriana teased. “Or does he put his hands on all his dates’ butts?”

  I put my head in my hands, unbelievably embarrassed by the whole thing. It was like getting caught making out in the back seat of your car by your parents.

  “It’s casual,” I told Adriana. “I’m just having fun. He’s just having fun. That’s all.”

  At least, that’s what I thought. We really hadn’t talked about what we were doing—instead focusing our attention on kissing and other fun activities.

  “Well, you’re a nice girl,” Adriana patted my hand. “You deserve to have some fun once in a while.”

  I completely agreed.

  I’d been hoping to see Liam at the bar that night. He had been working late all week, and I thought that maybe he would take the time to stop by—and deliver on some of those sexy text promises. But as the night wore on, there was no sign of him. I tried not to be disappointed. After all, I had told Adriana that we were just having fun, and that’s what I wanted. To have fun. What was I doing wasting my time stressing about Liam and when he’d have time to see me again?

  So, I focused on work. It wasn’t hard to do as the evening got busy quickly. There was a bachelorette party celebrating in one of the booths, and they required an endless supply of lemon drop martinis, which meant that I was going to spend most of the evening with sticky, sugary fingers.

  When there was finally a lull around midnight, I snuck to the back washroom to wash my hands. I was just leaving when a familiar figure filled the doorway.

  “Hey, beautiful,” Liam said, leaning against the doorjamb.

  “Liam!” I couldn’t help how excited I was to see him.

  He stepped into the room, into the light, and I could see how tired he looked. There were circles under his eyes, and his usually perfect suit was just slightly askew, as if he had been messing with his tie.

  “Long day?” I asked.

  “Long week.” He took a step towards me. “All I’ve wanted to do all week is see you. And kiss you.”

  His words sent a thrill through me.

  “But I was practically tied to my desk to finish this project for work.”

  “And now?” I wanted to know, as he stepped closer to me.

  “And now, the project is done,” he said, his voice low and sexy and full of promise. “And I get to do exactly what I’ve been wanting to do all week.”

  Then he took me into his arms and kissed the hell out of me.

  I never wanted him to stop kissing me. Even though it had only been a few days, it felt like it had been forever since he had last touched me—since he had last kissed me. And from the way he held my head in his hands, his tongue tangling with mine, I got the sense that he felt the same way.

  He pressed me up against the door of Emerson’s office, his hips leaning against mine, and I could feel exactly how much he wanted me. And I wished, more than anything, that we could get out of here and finish what we kept starting over and over again.

  But a shout from the bar reminded me of where I was. I was at work. Outside of my boss’s office. And even though Liam was one of the owners, the last thing I wanted was to give Emerson or Chase any reason to fire me. Because making out with one of the co-owners in the back room while I was in the middle of a shift on a busy night was pretty unprofessional.

  So, I reluctantly pulled away, my chest heaving and my lips tender.

  “I need to get back to work,” I told him.

  He was still staring at my mouth, but he nodded.

  We headed back into the bar, and I hoped that no one would notice the two of us returning together, especially si
nce I was pretty sure I looked exactly like I had just been making out with someone in the back room.

  Thankfully, no one seemed to notice, and both Emerson and Chase were being distracted by their respective girlfriends. I got back behind the bar, while Liam pulled up a stool.

  “Can I get you anything?” I asked, trying to sound professional.

  “Yep,” he said, giving me a meaningful look.

  “Anything to drink,” I clarified, shooting a glance over at Chase, who was walking our way.

  “A whiskey on the rocks,” Liam said, straightening.

  Obviously, he wasn’t super keen on his best friend finding out what was going on between us. I shouldn’t have been hurt—after all, I was the one trying to keep things professional—but I still felt weird about the whole thing. Mainly because I really didn’t know where we stood.

  I tried not to think about it, focusing on my work and getting another round of lemon drops to the bachelorette party in the corner. As I was returning from dropping them off, my hands sticky and sugary once again, a male patron waved me over.

  “Can I help you?” I asked, putting a big smile on my face, even though it was reaching the end of the evening, and I was tired.

  “Two Bud Lights,” the guy said, giving me a dirty leer.

  I tried to hide my cringe. “Coming right up,” I told him.

  But before I could turn back toward the bar, I felt a hand on my ass. Then it gave me a little pinch. I jumped and turned back to the guy, who was giving me a gross grin.

  “Sorry about that,” he said. “Couldn’t help myself.”

  “Bullshit,” a masculine voice said from behind me.

  I turned and found Liam standing there, fury written all over his face, his hands balled into fists.

  “It’s fine,” I told him, putting my hand on his arm.

  “It’s not fine,” he argued.

  I turned back to the customer. “You’re going to have to get your own beer, I’m afraid,” I told him. “I don’t serve people that can’t keep their hands to themselves.”

  “It was a compliment,” the guy argued. “Don’t women know how to take a compliment anymore?”

  “Get. Out,” Liam said, his voice low and angry.

  “Fuck you,” the customer said to Liam before looking at me. “I want to see the manager. Or the owner. I want you fired.”

  Before I could say anything, Liam reached over and grabbed the guy by the collar of his shirt. The guy rose out of his chair as Liam pulled him close.

  “I am the owner, you asshole. And I’m saying that you’re banned from Rascals. Forever.”

  Liam threw him back in his chair so hard that it toppled over. He got up, sputtering and red-faced, and got the hell out of there as quickly as he could. The entire bar had stopped to watch this interaction, and a lot of people clapped when the jerk finally left.

  But I wasn’t one of them.

  “I had that handled,” I told Liam angrily.

  “I’m sure you did,” he responded, heading back to the bar.

  “I don’t need you to protect me!” I hurried to catch up.

  “I would have done it for anyone,” he said. “Hayley. Alex. Kelsey. I would have done the same thing for them.”

  I didn’t believe him for a second.

  “Are you OK?” Alex asked as I got back to the bar.

  “I’m fine,” I told her. “It wasn’t a big deal!”

  “That guy was a jerk,” Kelsey added. “I’m glad Liam kicked him out.”

  “First time he’s done that,” Alex informed us, her eyebrows raised. “Wonder why.”

  All three of us looked over at Liam, who had clearly been listening to the conversation.

  “No comment,” he said.

  “Mmhmm.” Alex clearly wasn’t buying it.

  My anger faded. He’d been trying to help, and even though it had caused a scene, it was nice to know somebody was looking out for me.

  I went over to him. “Thanks,” I said reluctantly.

  He shrugged, but I could see that he was pleased. “I just didn’t like seeing that guy touch you,” he said, his voice low. “I wanted to break his fucking face off.”

  Liam was such a calm, collected guy that it was kind of hot to see this side of him. So far, I’d only seen it when he kissed me. I liked this passionate, intense Liam. I wanted to see more of him.

  “What are you doing later tonight?” I asked. “Want to . . . get a nightcap?”

  Naked.

  He gave me a disappointed look. “I wish I could,” he said. “But I have to leave early tomorrow for a flight to New York..”

  He wasn’t the only one disappointed. “How long will you be there?” I asked.

  “A few days. It was a last-minute assignment at work.”

  “Oh.” I tried to hide my disappointment. “I guess I’ll see you when you get back.”

  “I hope so,” he said, his voice full of sexy promise.

  11

  Liam

  I’ve always liked New York. It felt like the city of ambition, so I’d jumped at the chance to take this consulting assignment. Right now, the air was fresh and crisp, the sun bright and beautiful. I sat in Central Park with a hot dog, and should have been happy exactly where I was . . . but it felt like my head was still back in Chicago.

  And other vital organs, too.

  I had been texting with Juliet the whole time I’d been in New York, and every message I got from her just reminded me how hot it had gotten between us. I ached from wanting her, but I was still holding back. The chemistry between us was out of this world, but I knew I had to maintain control. Because she was dangerous. The best kind of dangerous, but dangerous nonetheless.

  Because she made me forget all my rules, all my guidelines, all my goals whenever I was with her. I just wanted to be with her. Wanted to lose myself in her. And I had seen firsthand what that kind of blind passion could do to a person.

  I did not want to end up like my mother. I had done everything in my life to avoid that, and I was worried that Juliet might threaten the order and control I had worked very hard to maintain.

  Still, I couldn’t stay away. And I knew that once things went further—and they would, because there was no possible way they couldn’t—there would be no going back. What that meant for my life and my future, I didn’t know, but I was doing my best to figure it out before I returned to Chicago.

  I headed back to the New York branch of our office, and was greeted by the friendly receptionist, who had done everything in her power to make sure that my stay in New York was going well. In fact, everyone had been more than kind and generous since I had arrived.

  “Liam.” Stuart, the man I was reporting to on this project, poked his head out of his office and waved me over. “I have great news,” he said once I was settled on his couch. “The client is beyond thrilled with the work you’ve done.”

  I felt a wave of pride. I had busted my balls on this project—the reason I had spent so many late nights at the office this past week—and it was great to hear that it was appreciated. The client was a small tech start-up that had grown rapidly over the past year and had desperately needed help restructuring and refocusing now that they were playing in the big leagues. I’d developed new sales targets and work-flows to ensure the business didn’t falter moving to the next level, and I was pleased they had responded well to my proposals.

  “They want to take you and the team out to dinner tonight,” Stuart continued. “Unless you already have plans.”

  “I’m free,” I told him. “I’m glad they’re happy with the results.”

  “Not just happy.” Stuart looked pretty overjoyed himself. “They couldn’t stop raving about your work.”

  I settled back into the cushions of the couch, soaking up the praise. It was nice.

  “It’s an informal dinner,” Stuart added. “So feel free to invite a date if you’d like.”

  For a moment, I thought about calling up Sandra. She had li
ved in Chicago a few years ago, and we dated for a few months. She was exactly the kind of woman I was looking for—smart, driven, well-situated. In the end, she had moved to New York for a promotion, a move I respected and encouraged. We were still friendly; I knew that she was usually up for getting together when I was in town.

  But I hesitated.

  The only person I wanted to bring to this dinner wasn’t even in the state.

  And even though Juliet and I hadn’t discussed exclusivity, or even what it was that we were doing with each other, she was the only one I wanted to be seeing.

  “No date,” I told Stuart. “Not this time.”

  The rest of the trip went off without a hitch, and a few days later, I was back in Chicago. The moment my plane landed, I called Juliet. I’d had plenty of time to think about what I wanted, and even though I wasn’t sure where it would lead, I knew that I couldn’t just ignore how I felt.

  “I’d like to take you out,” I told her when she answered. “On a real date.”

  “Oh,” she said, sounding surprised. I found myself holding my breath. “That sounds nice.”

  “Great,” I responded, not sure why I had been so nervous. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  I had gone all out for this date. Gotten us a table at the best restaurant, had my car cleaned and detailed, and put on my best date suit with a checked tie that Hayley had bought me years ago because she thought my clothes needed a little more personality. I thought that Juliet would be the kind of person who appreciate clothing with personality.

  I still couldn’t figure out what drew me to her so intensely. She seemed like such a free spirit—someone who went from a career as a ballerina to a bartender. Someone who was spontaneous enough to kiss a stranger on the street. Not my type at all. Yet, here I was, standing at her door, feeling like a teenager about to go on a date with the prettiest girl in school.

  She opened the door and my mouth went dry.

  She looked absolutely incredible.

  I’d seen her in her work outfit—which was usually a pair of tight jeans and a drapey top. I’d seen her in her little black dress. And I’d even seen her dressed to the nines for the ballet.