Broken Course

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Broken Course Page 6

by Aly Martinez


  "She’s not like us. She’s honest—bluntly so. It’s inspiring to watch her rise above all the bullshit," I grit out.

  "Holy. Shit. You really like this girl," she announces, obviously surprised.

  "I don’t know. I guess. It’s just… She’s different."

  "That’s lame and cliché, Leo" She calls me on my attempt not to elaborate, making me laugh.

  I shrug. "It’s also the truth."

  "I really don’t think this is a smart idea. Is she aware that you know about her past?"

  "Not yet," I answer uncomfortably. That is the part I’m most worried about. If someone knew all my shit right off the bat, you can bet that I’d tuck tail and run. I have a sneaking suspicion Sarah might be the same way.

  "Well, if you are adamant about seeing this woman, you might want to tell her sooner than later."

  "Yeah, I know. Seriously though, Erica. How crazy of an idea is this? I like her despite her past, and in some sick way, I’m hoping that, if I can overlook the things she did, maybe she will be able to do the same with me."

  "Leo, that is not a healthy attitude to start a relationship on. I know you respect her for the things she said that day at Foundations, but I don’t like this pedestal you have her on."

  "I agree with you…to a point. I’m not going out with Sarah because of some misplaced feelings. I ran into her randomly on the street. I didn’t even know who she was when I first approached her. But yes, when I did recognize her it, piqued my interest. However, I asked her out for the same reasons I would ask any woman out."

  "Because she’s hot," Erica laughs.

  "No, smartass. Well, yes, but I meant that she’s funny and interesting too."

  "Okay, fine. I won’t say anything else about it, but please be careful. I don’t want you to get in over your head until you really get to know her. Just because you know her past doesn’t mean you know anything about who she is today."

  "Yeah, okay." I let it go. She’s right even though I hate to admit it. "Let’s get out of here. I’m supposed to pick her up in a few hours and I have to get some work done first. When are you heading back to Indy?"

  "As soon as Slate finishes up at the gym. I’m going shopping for a little bit until he’s done."

  "Take Johnson with you, okay?"

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah." She rolls her eyes but nods. "All right. I expect to meet this Sarah chick soon."

  "Now look who’s rushing into something." I laugh and guide her out of the coffee shop.

  "UM, WHAT do you mean he said he is going to kiss you in his bed tonight? That’s a little cocky, don’t you think?" my best friend, Casey, asks while flopping down on my bed, watching me apply my makeup in front of my full-length mirror.

  "Nah. You’d have to meet him to really understand. It’s absolutely presumptuous, but when he says it, it’s not obnoxious."

  "I’ll have to take your word for it, because he sounds like a douche."

  "Stop!" I turn to face her. "Don’t say that. I kind of like him. He’s easy."

  "Yeah, well. It sounds like he thinks you’re easy too," she laughs, but I give her an evil eye that makes her hush.

  "Oh, shut up. I’m not kidding, Case. It’s odd how comfortable I feel around him." I turn back to the mirror to finish up with my mascara.

  "You think it’s because he’s the first man you’ve allowed to get to know ‘new’ Sarah." She throws a pair of air quotes in my direction.

  "I don’t know. Maybe." I let out a resigned sigh. I have no idea why Leo has me letting my guards down—I just know that it feels good. "He doesn’t know anything about my past, so it’s easy to pretend that I don’t have one when I’m with him. There’s no pressure. I can be whoever the hell I want instead of who he expects me to be." I catch her sad eyes through the mirror. "Don’t give me that look." When I spin around to face her, she immediately looks away.

  "I wish you didn’t have to feel like that," she says apologetically.

  I know where she’s headed with this, but it’s not a stroll down memory lane I want to take tonight.

  "So, is there something wrong with the way I am now?" I ask with a teasing smile.

  "No!" She jumps up defensively. She knows this is a trigger for me, but tonight, I’m using it to my advantage just to mess with her. However, I’m apparently transparent because she calls my bluff. "It’s just that you don’t drink wine or read dirty books anymore. That was, after all, the foundation of our relationship." She grins.

  "Yeah, but now, we eat massive chocolaty desserts and watch trashy TV. I think that might trump wine night." I stand up to grab my perfume off the dresser.

  "You’re right. This arrangement might be better, although my jeans probably disagree."

  We both burst out laughing, only to sober when I see the clock.

  "Shit! He should be here soon," I announce, nervously smoothing down the long black-and-white maxi dress I picked for tonight. It has spaghetti straps and shows off a fair amount of cleavage. Emma would be proud. I’m not sure where we are going, but I know I want to look presentable…at least on the outside.

  "What are you going to do about Mr. Cocky tonight? You getting in his bed?" She perks a questioning eyebrow.

  "I have no idea," I sigh.

  "It’s been a while since you were with someone, huh?" she asks jokingly, but for a split second, a flashback hits me so hard that it steals not only my breath, but also my every thought.

  Seven Years Earlier…

  "GET OUT!" I scream.

  "Jesus, calm down!" Brett pleads, dodging the plate I just hurled across the room.

  "Why the fuck would you do this?" I yell. The pain in my chest amplifies the anger in my tone.

  "Because it’s our anniversary. Because I love you. Because I fucking miss you. Take your pick." He swings his arms out to his sides in frustration.

  "So, what now? What are you hoping to accomplish with this?" I wave my hand over the beautifully decorated table.

  Everything, from the china to the prime rib, is the exact replica of our table the night we got married. He even had a small cake decorated to match the top tier of our wedding cake. I should be laughing and crying at the sentimental gesture. But as I stare at it now, the emptiness I feel in the memory enrages me. I remember picking out the original cake like it was yesterday.

  Brett loved peanut butter cake more than anything else, but the brown icing was ugly as all hell. So I had the bakery make a special peanut butter cake just for him but cover it in white icing so it would match my vision for the day. You should have seen my mother’s disgust when I told her the flavors I chose. However, that cake was us. I was always the free spirit, while Brett was focused and career-driven. Yet, just like that cake, we fit together despite everyone else’s expectations. It just worked.

  "I was hoping it would remind you of happier times," he bites out when his overflowing emotions flip to anger from my rejection.

  "Jesus Christ, I remember. I just don’t care!" I say the words honestly, but I didn’t mean for them to be the verbal knife that twists in his gut.

  He swallows hard, and it’s more than I can take to witness his reaction. He will never understand how much I want to be the person he remembers—the person I remember. Instead, I feel so distant and removed. I’m completely alone, even though there is a beautiful man standing in front of me, begging me to love him.

  "So, you remember sobbing your entire way through your vows?" he asks as tears prick his eyes.

  I can’t do this with him again. I can’t watch him melt down—again. I’m not his wife anymore.

  "I want a divorce," I say as my own tears begin to fall.

  "So, you remember dragging me into the employee lounge at the reception just because you couldn’t wait a minute longer to make love to your husband?" he asks roughly, planting his hands on his hips.

  "Please don’t do this. I don’t remember these things the same way you do. Just stop," I beg. My memories don’t pain me, but hearing his me
mories destroys me. I want to be Sarah Sharp again. However, just figuring out the Sarah part is hard enough.

  He continues as if his words can force me to feel something. "So, you remember holding me so tight during our first dance that you joked that we were going to meld together?"

  Suddenly, my frustration with the whole fucking situation overtakes me. "What do you want from me? Lies? I fucking hate that you do this to me. You can’t make me feel it, so I’d rather just forget every single minute of the past with you. Every tear. Every kiss. Every fuck! I want to erase it all. Maybe then you will leave me the hell alone. I am not that woman anymore. No matter how hard you fucking try, no amount of cake or fancy dinners in the world will make me magically come back to you."

  My chest is heaving, but if Brett heard me at all, he doesn’t show it. He ignores me and takes three giant steps forward, cornering me against the wall. Then he reaches out, grabbing either side of my face and leveling me with his green stare.

  "Come back to me," he demands desperately. "Goddamn it, come back to me. I can’t do this without you. We can start over—make a new life. Whatever you want. Just… Goddamn it. Please," His frantic tone shreds me.

  When his mouth slams over mine, I don’t even have the energy to push him away. I stand motionless as he attempts to lure me into a kiss.

  "Please, Sarah. Just come back," he whispers against my mouth as he peppers kisses over my lips.

  And because I deserve it, I keep my eyes open and watch every heartbreaking emotion as he pleads. Brett Sharp is just one more person I have destroyed.

  Finally, he stills and his eyes open. A single tear slides down his cheek, matching the steady stream falling from my own. He begins shaking his head and drops his hands from my face. Then he roughly shoves them through his hair before letting out a humorless laugh and covering his mouth with a hand.

  "Fuck!" he explodes, spinning around and flipping over the entire dining room table.

  The dishes shatter against the floor, and that fucking cake smashes into a million pieces.

  Completely ruined—just like us.

  "I shouldn’t have asked that," Casey says awkwardly, walking into the kitchen, as I stand frozen, desperately trying to escape the memories.

  When I turn to tell her it’s okay, a knock on the door stops the unspoken words. As nerves flutter in my stomach, I try to calm myself. I run a hand through my hair as I head for the door and pull it open. However, the minute I lay eyes on the gorgeous man holding a red Gatorade with a messy bow and small bouquet of mixed flowers, I immediately relax.

  "Hey, babe," Leo says with a warm grin as he steps forward to kiss my cheek.

  "Hey," I laugh, taking the Gatorade and flowers from his hands. "You know this does not make me feel positive about going out with you again."

  "Well, I figured, with my luck recently, I should at least make sure you’re prepared this time." He leans away to catch my eyes, a devilish gleam in his own. "You’re beautiful." He gives me a very obvious head-to-toe assessment and pauses on my breasts for a second too long.

  "Should I spin in a circle to make it easier for you to check me out?"

  "It wouldn’t hurt." He smirks but pulls me tight against his body. For a brief minute, I return his embrace, enjoying the simple comfort that is Leo’s hugs.

  "Eh, hm." I hear Casey clear her throat from the kitchen. Her eyes are glued to mine and her wide grin is unmistakably peaceful.

  "Shit. I’m sorry. Casey, this is Leo James. Leo, this is my best friend, Casey Black," I say motioning, between them.

  "Hi." Leo extends a hand in her direction, but Casey just glances at it and crosses her arms.

  "What are your intentions with Sarah this evening?" she questions with a stern tone that causes Leo’s forehead to crinkle in confusion.

  "Jesus. Stop screwing with him," I tell her, curling into Leo’s side. "He already had the pleasure of meeting Caleb and Emma. He’s been interrogated enough."

  "Oh God. I bet that was a real treat," Casey mumbles as her face pales. She quickly recovers. "Okay. You guys have fun. Sarah, can I talk to you for a minute?"

  "Yeah, of course." I smile up at Leo and walk Casey to the door.

  Just as I pull it open, she leans into my ear and says, "I really fucking hope you cleaned the cobwebs out of your panties, because I don’t care if he does think you’re easy. I want you to run into that man’s bed, strip naked, and let him kiss you wherever the hell he wants. You did not tell me he was that good-looking."

  "Yes, I did!" I whisper-yell back to her while glancing over my shoulder to make sure Leo can’t hear us. But, much to my dismay, he’s very obviously listening. His confident shit-eating grin is impossibly wide. "Oh fantastic." I push Casey out the door without even so much as a goodbye.

  "I like her," Leo says when I turn back around.

  "I figured," I laugh and roll my eyes.

  "I’m serious. She gives excellent advice."

  "I’ll be sure to let her know you think so. Let’s go." I grab my purse off the table next to the door, but I’m stopped as Leo wraps his arms around my waist from behind and nuzzles into my hair.

  "What do you say we skip dinner and you can run to my bed? It might not be the most conventional first kiss, but I can definitely think of a few places I’d like to taste. Your mouth only being one of them."

  His breath across my sensitive neck combined with his words send chills over my body. I try to lock it down, but as he drags his nose up to my ear, a gasp escapes.

  "Mmm, I like the moan better, but the gasp works too," he purrs.

  We stand there silently for a minute as Leo holds me tight against his large body. His lean muscles are pressed against my back, and his quickened breath in my ear tells me that he is just as turned on as I am. Though, just to be sure, I reach up and drag the tips of my nails over his neck and into this hair. He lets out a mouth-watering moan that makes me smile.

  "We should go," I whisper, unable to trust my voice.

  "Or we could stay. You have a bed. I could amend my statement to your bed instead of mine." He brushes my hair off my shoulder and leans down, placing a very wet and promising kiss on the exposed skin.

  As very appealing as his idea sounds, I need to clear my head from the fog. Perhaps make a decision about where I want to end the night without Leo’s lips muddling with my resolve.

  "We should go," I repeat, causing him to growl.

  I spin in his arms and look up into his eyes. He has the thickest eyelashes I have ever seen on a man, and they only serve to make his otherwise common brown eyes stunning and unique. But it’s the intensity in his gaze that really has me reconsidering his suggestion.

  Very slowly, Leo leans down, stopping only a breath away from my mouth. My pulse begins to race as his hands drift from my hips to the small of my back.

  "Sarah, go pack a bag. You’re staying at my place tonight."

  "I am?" I squeak out, completely lost in the moment.

  "You are," he confirms then presses his lips against mine for what can only be described as the best-slash-worst first kiss in history. His lips are soft and warm but gone before I can even appreciate them. I want more.

  So. Much. More.

  "Go," he orders with a smirk as he steps away.

  Fuck it. Who needs resolve anyway? Clearly not me, because I find my legs carrying me back to my room to pack a bag.

  "WE DESTROYED them!" Sarah laughs as we leave the sports bar she chose for dinner.

  I thought it was an odd choice at first—until she informed me that it was trivia night. I can honestly say that I had an absolutely phenomenal time tonight. Sarah was hilarious and so fucking competitive. Her face would light up as soon as the questions popped on screen. I swear, at one point, she was pressing the button so hard that I thought she was going to break it. The best moment, though, was when she started cussing after someone buzzed in before she did. I haven’t heard words like that used since the high school locker room. She immedia
tely looked embarrassed when she saw that I was watching her. But her cheeks really turned red when I informed her how much a love a woman with a dirty mouth. My tone might have made it a sexual innuendo, but she didn’t seem to care either way.

  She’s right. We did destroy them. I’ve always been a bit of a history buff, so that paired with her brains about pop culture and science made us an unstoppable team.

  "I have no idea how the hell you knew some of those answers. I think you might be overqualified for your receptionist position," I tease as we walk arm in arm to my car.

  "Yes, but my vast knowledge of Mariah Carey and the latest in celebrity sex tape scandals isn’t exactly in high demand these days," she says, stopping me just before we reach my car. "Thanks for tonight." She loops her arms around my waist. "I haven’t smiled that much in a really long time."

  "Funny, I was just thinking the same thing." I tuck a stray hair behind her ear as her smile nervously fades.

  When she rakes her teeth over her bottom lip, my attention hones in on her mouth. Slowly, she rises to her tiptoes. While nothing about Sarah was exactly shy tonight, she always seems a bit nervous when it comes to affection. I’m not sure if she’s overthinking it or what, but as much as I want to rush her home and into my bed, I’m willing to let her have this move. I stand completely still as she presses her soft and timid lips to mine. The gentle touch ignites me.

  God damn, I want this woman, but I’m not doing this in the middle of a parking lot. I quickly shove a hand into her hair, holding her firmly against my closed mouth. I don’t allow her to take the kiss any deeper, but that doesn’t mean I don’t kiss her with everything I have, breathing her in as if I will never feel her again.

  When I’m able to drag myself away from her, I rush out like a caveman, "Home. Bed. Now."

  "Okay. Yeah," she says shakily while smoothing down her hair.

  I walk around the car and open her door, careful not to touch her again. I just need to get her home—and hopefully naked.

  IT SEEMS that the kiss in the parking lot was exactly what Sarah needed to loosen up. It wasn’t a long ride back to my apartment, but, surprisingly, she held my hand the whole way. In moments when she would use her overly animated hand gestures while talking, she never truly released me. Instead, she very purposefully placed my hand on her thigh. I’ve never been so turned on by such a simple gesture—or grateful that the darkness cloaked the hard-on I was sporting most of the way.

 

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