Imperfect Bastard

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Imperfect Bastard Page 1

by Pamela Ann




  Love was one hell of a mother*&c#!$. Not only was it addictive, but it was that kind of drug that could get you so high you floated out of your physical existence, and then it had the potential to drop you more swiftly than a lactose-intolerant monkey could shamelessly take a crap.

  It was so powerful, in fact, that it could drive any sane, lucid person to become thoughtless, mental to the point of destruction, consumed with taking desperate measures in order to win what they yearned for the most. But playing with fire could end up engulfing me inflames, burning every ounce of me until I was left in ashes, a speck of dirt that could be smeared and wiped away, left to be forgotten, unloved, alone.

  Drew Cavendish was every woman's bad boy fantasy. Not only was he cool and smart with a bevy of women lapping up everything he did; he also happened to be my brother's best friend and secretly the love of my life. After losing my virginity to him, I hadn't seen him since. Now I was moving to study at NYU and about to live with my brother ... in a condo where Drew lived, as well.

  At one point, he had meant the world to me, but circumstances had changed. Consequently, even though the palpable attraction was intoxicating, I knew better than to succumb to his easy charm. I would try to keep my composure and stay aloof. There was no need for panic. Yet my heart was a beat away from having a serious meltdown.

  I would survive this as I had all my life--by loving him from a quiet distance.

  Imperfect Bastard

  Pamela Ann

  Imperfect Bastard

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

  Copyright © 2016 by Pamela Ann

  All rights reserved.

  www.PamelaAnnBooks.com

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  To the uninspired, the unimpassioned, you will soon shine.

  “True love cannot be found where it does not exist, nor can it be denied where it does.” - Torquato Tasso

  Prologue

  “The plane will be landing in approximately twenty minutes time.” The pilot’s voice reverberated throughout the airplane’s speakers.

  In twenty minutes…my life will change. There will be no going back. For the past year and a half, I had prepared myself for this very moment…but somehow the bravado I had before getting on the plane seemed nonexistent now that I was going to face him. Drew Cavendish hounded my dreams for as long as I could remember. Maybe it was the way he had exited my life…by making me fervently feel like I was on a tailspin and he alone could halt everything it to nothingness and into a beautiful oblivion. Into a paradise that he alone could weave through his melodic spells of words and the euphoria of his touch…but most of all, it was the way he looked at me that night, as if he could devour me whole, as if I was the only woman he saw—the only one he wanted. Those blue eyes saw everything I dared to hide—he took me in—took it all—and I was left by sullied memories that meant to be forgotten.

  But forgetting him wasn’t a possibility. Instead, I lived every single day after that fated night trying to figure out myself. I meandered through accepting that it was no one’s fault, that some things happen in life without needing to shred the meaning of every single moment…because it meant to happen just the way it did…a token to be treasured but nothing more. There was no need for me to hate him because he simply didn’t care trying to mend friendships. And so I learned to live with such mentality.

  My parents didn’t give me any options to do anywhere else to study because I was simply ought to follow their rules—and their rules demanded that I go to school of my brother’s choosing, NYU. So this is where I was headed. Bounded by a feeble excuse that they wouldn’t provide for my tuition, rent and all the expenses if I had the audacity to study elsewhere. My down rotten fate wasn’t all that bad because even though I loathed the thought that I would be sharing an apartment with my brother and Drew (who just happened to be my brother’s best friend), I loved being around my big brother. So, I suppose, it was a great compensation. One must always look at the positive aspects of life. I had wallowed long enough.

  Drew wouldn’t alter anything for me this time. I wasn’t the besotted girl that would jump at every given opportunity be around thy holy self. That girl had since become a woman—one who was bent not being a fool twice.

  Chapter One

  “Jackson!” I gleefully exclaimed the moment I saw my brother coming towards me while I stood next to the revolving luggage carousel.

  It didn’t take him long until he reached me and gave me the tightest, warmest of embraces. Upon releasing me, he immediately scrutinized me from head to foot. “You lost hella weight—are you in one of those weird diet girls are into these days, Chloe?” He teasingly said as he grinned down at me.

  Well Hell there was no need to point out I was such a fat lard before. There was no escaping my past; my brother will make sure of it. As much as I loved him, he sure knew what subjects to press to embarrass me. I was a fat kid turned chunky during my teenage years. It was during my heartbreak when I began to start shredding pounds and I had successfully maintained the weight by eating proportionally and skipping sodas of any kind…now here I was. The best I had ever looked to date—and no one was going to undermine that newly minted confidence I had gained since achieving my ideal weight. “If you think denouncing donuts and chocolate cakes six times a week a diet—then yes, I’m in one of those freaking weird diets.” Stuffing myself with desserts after I had my heartbroken—no scratch that—I had my heart trampled made me feel a thousand times worse, I knew it was time to shift things even if it led me to sacrifice one of my faved hobbies, which was aptly named binging.

  “Nooooo!” he gasped, eyes widened. “You didn’t, did you? But you lived for those junks, Chloe. What happened?” he truly seemed perplexed and beyond concerned that I would take-on such abhorrent behavior.

  “Boys happened, Jacks.”

  “Well I’ll be damned, Chloe. I’m sorry to hear that—but as long as you’re happy then I’m happy too.” He used to surprise me with a present from the local pasty shop from our hometown in Newport Beach whenever he wanted a favor or after we bickered. It didn’t matter how much I would stand my ground because the second I got a whiff of that sensational and oh so familiar sweet scent, my armor would slowly deteriorate and accepted his apology. It was some sort of tradition of ours so I kind of understand his stunned reaction that I wasn’t the sweetly infused indulgent teen any longer.

  Everyone that knew me understood the depth of the kind of love affair I had with desserts. Mind you, it’s desserts not appetizers, not entrees but desserts with an s because anything sweet and delicious should come in plurals because one should be able to truly satisfy and indulge their inner most cravings.

  Our conversation easily flowed from the traffic to the people back home as he helped me with my luggage before we exited the area and chose one of the cabs to take us to the city. This wasn’t my first time here so I wasn’t all that interested in the sights so while Jackson busied himself with his ever beeping messages, my thoughts reverted back to him, like always. A part of me was glad that he never brought him up. I wasn’t expecting him to be with Jackson to pick me up but I had this odd inkling that he and I might not get on well as roommates or as f
riends. So I wasn’t expecting much on that front—which was totally fine by me.

  Drew and I weren’t particularly close, but through the years, we had bonded somehow. It was inevitable when he was not only best friends with my brother, but also our neighbor. Here was to hoping we would find a common ground without disrespecting each other.

  Briefly glancing toward my brother, I wondered whom he was talking to since his phone was endlessly shrilling. It wouldn’t surprise me if it was a woman who was borderline obsessed with him. All throughout his high school years, I had seen him engage and fend off more women than I could imagine. The same had gone for Drew. I doubted their habits had changed much.

  I remembered them telling me, though jokingly, that they would never commit to anyone before they were past the age of twenty-five. They’d stated they wanted to live to the fullest without any shackles or restraints. It was a wise decision since those two weren’t the monogamous type of guys.

  Our parents purchased a three-bedroom condo a year before Jackson was due to leave for the east coast. My parents, particularly my father, wouldn’t allow us to study anywhere else but to the school where his family strictly went to. He wasn’t a totalitarian per say…it only was exclusive to where we chose to go to college but apart from that, he was pretty lax with the rest as parenting went.

  “Drew’s still sleeping so I didn’t bother waking him up. We had a party last night so the place isn’t all that squeaky clean—well it’s a little trashed but your room is the cleanest area—I was strict in enforcing a rule that no one uses that bedroom.” Jackson spoke as he typed on his screen, not bothering to glance at me.

  “Sounds great.” Why didn’t this surprise me? The moment I heard his name, I couldn’t help but imagine what sort of party they had last night. Well knowing what type of women they usually went for, I didn’t have to guess that hard. Of course the apartment will be a party den. With these two, it was a given. So how the hell will I survive if they decided to party on the daily? They’d better not. I wasn’t a snitch but I’d seriously consider telling our parents if they decided to selfishly torture me with loud music, marijuana stench, endless litter, puke galore and all that entails. I had seen how trashed their parties could get so I better set some decent ground rules when I see them both.

  The condo was located Midtown so it would be an easy cab ride to school and the rest of Manhattan. It didn’t take long until the driver delivered us right outside the glass building. With Jackson in charge of both of my luggage, he casually strolled in before introducing me to the doorman named Norman. After the introduction we then strode towards the elevator before pressing the button panel to take us to the 8th floor. This was my second time in this place and I hoped that I get to keep the same bedroom I stayed in the first time I was here, which was right after it was purchased. Although all the rooms had the floor-to-ceiling that overlooked the city below, the room I chose directly overlooked this small family run bakery that had this old man with a prominent protruding stomach sing O Mio Babbino Caro at exactly six in the morning without fail. I wasn’t sure why I used to alarm my phone at that particular time just to check if he was going to sing but it became an odd habit of mine. Maybe it was the passion I heard in his voice and the depth of sadness that sprung me to tune in to him everyday that summer, whatever it was I knew hearing it surely would bring some familiarity and that sense of comfort I would surely seek given that I was far from home and the safe comfort of the town I grew up in.

  “Here it is, home sweet home sis.” Jackson stated as he broke into my thoughts just as the elevator dinged, indicating that we had arrived at our floor.

  Stepping out on the superbly polished black marbled floor, I held my breath as I followed his lead, turning left then stopping once we reached the place before pulling out keys from his jean pocket and unlocked the door. We were greeted by brightness of the room, skyscrapers and littered red cups everywhere with a several empty bottles of vodka everywhere. And with three matching leather modern sofas strategically situated in the middle of the living room, it made me wonder what my mom was thinking by choosing white as the main theme knowing that her son will most likely thrash it anyway.

  “I’m in the masters bedroom but I’m willing to give it up if you don’t feel like sleeping in the bedroom you used before.”

  That was nice of him to offer, I thought as I gratefully smiled at my brother. “Thanks, Jacks. I’ll keep that in mind.” I didn’t want to necessarily decline his generosity just yet. Just the rest of my kind, we women tend to be fickle so it was best to play it safe given that my bedroom was conveniently right across his from the hallway while the masters was situated on the opposite end, far from the kitchen and this section.

  And just as I was about to turn towards my room to change and what not, the opposing door opened and out came Drew Cavendish…freshly showered with nothing but boxer briefs on.

  Jesus, what a holy package, batman!

  Not only was I trying not to hyperventilate, but my capacity to think when I was under prepared for such encounters, naked or otherwise, left me non-functional.

  “Chloe’s here; you can’t walk around in your jockeys, yo. What the fuck, man?”

  “I forgot she was arriving,” I heard him say in a raspy voice.

  Upon hearing him, I was immediately reminded of how much I used to love his voice and how much it used to turn me into a lovesick teen who saw him as the master of my universe. But in his eyes, I was easily forgettable. No surprise there.

  Not bothering to meet his eyes, I poised myself to glance toward my brother who had just situated my things inside my bedroom.

  “Why don’t you change and rest a bit? I have to do something really quick. I’ll be back to take you out to dinner. How does that sound?” Jackson asked before reverting his attention to the beeping sound of his phone that was pressing for his undivided attention.

  Before I had the chance to object that I wasn’t ready to be alone with a half-naked man in the apartment, he was already out the door.

  Fuck. Way to go, Jacks! Now what? I could keep ignoring him; that would be a start.

  Refraining from sighing, I strode toward the door, intending to shut it, but the insufferable man made it his mission that I memorize the ridges of his six-pack and the impressive size of his whatchamacallit.

  “That’s probably due to Yvonne; she’s a persistent one.”

  “Good to know. Thanks,” I muttered as nonchalantly as I could before I busied myself with my things. Call it immature, but I was too startled and wound up about the unspoken past to pay mind to small talk.

  My instincts told me that he was still hovering close to the door, although I kept praying he would leave me alone. He hadn’t had any qualms about doing it in the past, so why bother this time?

  “How have you been?” he casually drawled, as if we were buddy-buddies.

  He was obviously too dense to realize I wasn’t up for chitchat. Since we were going to be sharing this place for quite a long time, however, I knew better than to start something that would make the situation twice as uncomfortable as it already was.

  “Things are … as expected,” I finally said as I opened my luggage and blankly stared at the contents.

  My body was too hyped, too aware of him to fully function as normal. It was irritating to see myself in such a position after what he had done to me. I had been here not even half an hour, and I was more affected than I should be. Life wasn’t fucking fair.

  “Well, good to see you again, Chloe.”

  I hardly doubted it, but I knew better than to say it out loud.

  “It’s good to see you, too.” I held my breath as I waited for him to move out of my room, but that hope was dashed when it became apparent he wanted to prolong this encounter.

  “You sure don’t look it. Is lying part of this new package, too, Chloe?”

  His voice was so filled with unmistaken sarcasm that I spun quickly to face him and became dizzy for a second.


  “What package?” I quipped back, meeting his blue eyes for the first time in so long.

  The moment our gazes clashed, my stomach dropped before I felt butterflies break out, leaving me agitated, angry, and frustrated all at the same time.

  “This …” He used his eyes to point out my body, perusing it with such agonizing intensity that it burned my skin, making me feel exposed, unarmed, vulnerable. “You were perfect the way you were.”

  Those are just empty words. He doesn’t mean any of them.

  Not enough, apparently, or I would have heard from him, but not a single word. He had left me as though that night had meant so little to him. He wouldn’t know what his actions had done to me, though. Like him, I very much preferred to forget it happened at all.

  The art of pretention would take time to hone and perfect, but I would get there, even if it killed me.

  “This is the new me, so take it or leave it. You’d be surprised to find out I won’t care either way.” Amber meeting his blue, I challenged him in ways he hadn’t seen coming. Gone was the girl who’d worshipped at his feet. I wasn’t sure what I was yet, but I damn well knew I wasn’t going back to that pathetic sap of an idiot I once was.

  “You’ve changed.”

  “And you haven’t.”

  I didn’t realize we weren’t alone until I heard someone clear their throat, immediately getting both our attention.

  Glancing past Drew’s shoulder, I watched as a tall, svelte woman eyed us with curiosity before diverting her attention to Drew, freezing me out as if I weren’t even there.

  “I’ve got to dash. I have a shoot in an hour, but we’re still on for tonight, right?” she asked.

  “We are,” he calmly replied, unmoving from his position.

 

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