Forbidden Fruit: Volume 1

by Harley, Lisa M.

  I gaped at her, my eyes pleading. “Wait—what? B-but, you don’t understand. I need this dress.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry. Unless your name is Alexandra and you’re a size four, this one’s taken.”

  My eyes widened. “My name is Alexandra.”

  A small smile spread across her face, and she winked. “Then I suppose this dress is yours.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I just got off the phone with a Mr. Brittany. He said you’d be by—that is, if you’re the beautiful, young blonde named Alexandra.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Yes. That’s me, apparently.”

  She smiled. “Then I’ll wrap this up for you.”

  “But how did he know?”

  “He said you’d ask that. All he said is he’s a powerful man with many connections, and one little gold dress doesn’t stand a chance against him.”

  My head was shaking, my lips spreading into a disbelieving smile.

  She placed the dress in a box, tied a ribbon around it, and handed it to me in a sturdy shopping bag.

  “Wherever you’re going in this, I hope it’s special,” she said. “Because this is a very special dress.”

  “I know,” I said immediately, because I did. This wasn’t just any dress, and even she knew it.

  ~*~*~*~

  The bathroom door rattled. The knocking became more impatient. “Come on, Alex,” Chad yelled from my room. “We already missed all the pre-gaming. Seriously. The formal started an hour ago.”

  “Okay,” I called back. I swung the door open and spun.

  “Holy fucking shit,” Chad said. “That dress was worth every penny.”

  “I told you,” I said, squealing.

  “Okay. You were right. Trey will be putty in your hands.”

  I nodded excitedly. “Does he know you’re bringing me?”

  “Nah. I thought it’d be better to surprise him.”

  “Good. That’s good.”

  “We’re still on, right?”

  “Yes. Tonight, my life’s mission—other than mending my broken heart, of course—is distracting Todd so you can finally talk to Elyse.”

  “I meant what I said, Alex. Todd may be my frat brother, but she deserves much better than that prick. He’s just trying to get in her pants.”

  “Todd’s an asshole,” I agreed. “Otherwise I wouldn’t butt in.”

  “Cool.” His face fell. “But I’m serious, we’re really fucking late.”

  I laughed. “Fine. Grab my purse, would you?”

  He disappeared into the room and I gave my reflection one last look. My blonde hair fell in soft curls over my shoulders, and my makeup was heavier than usual, but not so much that it was overdone. After all, I wanted the dress to stand out.

  The dress—it fit perfectly. I wasn’t sure how Dean knew where to find it or how he knew my size, but he was dead on. It was fitted, pulling in tightly at the waist and curving over my hips. It stopped a few inches above my knees. The sleeves came just below my elbows and the back dipped so low that I couldn’t wear a bra. Most girls would be wearing dresses that made them feel sexy, that made the guys feel sexy. But I wanted something different—I wanted Trey to fall in love with me all over again.

  ~*~*~*~

  Chad looped his arm in mine. “Ready?”

  I took a deep breath. “Yes.”

  He pulled open the door to the hotel’s ballroom, and the music went from muted to loud and pulsing. The room was softly lit, and Chad had to lean in when he asked if I wanted a drink. I nodded, my hair bouncing, my eyes scanning the crowd. He disappeared, and I headed for a group of my friends in the corner. They were talking about Mexico—again—as though they hadn’t been all week. I smiled and laughed along as I had been, listening to stories I really didn’t care about. Something had felt off since they’d returned last weekend, but I figured it was my nerves acting up. I hadn’t seen Trey once.

  Chad returned with a rum and Coke for each of us, and I stuck the straw between my teeth, drinking quickly.

  “Whoa, slow down there,” Chad teased.

  I made a face. “I’m nervous.”

  He rubbed my back. “I know. Don’t be. You look amazing.”

  I nodded and just then, my eyes met Trey’s across the room. He looked at Chad and then back at me, his eyebrows knitting. I glanced up at Chad and laughed.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I said through a large smile. I clamped my teeth together and said, “He’s looking over here.”

  “Oh. But so is Elyse.”

  My eyes widened. “Shit.”

  He laughed too and shrugged. “Maybe it’s working in both our favors.”

  I handed him my drink with my eyes on Trey. “I’m going to talk to him.”

  Chad bumped his shoulder into mine. “Good luck, gorgeous.”

  Everything seemed to slow as I made my way across the ballroom. Even the music faded out for a quieter song. The crowd parted. Trey looked at me and nothing else. It was perfect. He stuck a hand in his pocket and scratched his head with the other, ruffling his blond hair.

  “Hey,” he said when I was close.

  “Hi.”

  “Didn’t know you’d be here.”

  I shrugged. “Is it a bad thing?”

  “No,” he said immediately. “I’m glad.”

  “Are you here with anyone?”

  He nodded over my shoulder, but I didn’t look. “Tiff from our dorm.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s not like you think. It was just a last-minute thing. I mean, I wasn’t expecting—anyway, you look really . . . Did you get your hair done or something?”

  I shook my head. “Not since the last time we saw each other. You know, the day you dumped me.”

  He glanced at the floor. “Yeah.” He looked up over his shoulder and back at me. “What’s the deal with Chad? You here with him?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Would he care if we danced?”

  I held my arms open, and his slipped around me. His cologne was familiar as my cheek rested against his. Dean’s arms when he’d picked me up seemed solid, like they’d never, ever drop me. Trey’s were nice too, resting around my waist.

  “How was Mexico?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “It was cool. Lots of drinking.”

  “Did you hook up with anyone?”

  He laughed near my ear. “Geez, Alex. We were broken up.”

  “Were?”

  “Yeah, I hooked up with a couple girls. No one in our group, just girls from other schools.”

  “Oh.”

  “But it made me miss you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Like, you’re . . . different—from them.”

  “What are you saying, Trey?” I asked, my heart speeding.

  He pulled back and looked between us at our feet. “Are you? Here with Chad?”

  I shook my head.

  “Maybe we could go somewhere and talk. I got a room upstairs.”

  “For you and Tiff?” I asked, stepping away.

  “No, no,” he said, grasping my forearm and coaxing me back. “Just, like, to have it. Just in case.”

  My eyes narrowed on him. “Okay,” I said hesitantly. I wanted that time with him, even if it was meant for someone else. “Let’s go.”

  “Great.” He kissed me on the cheek. His hand slid into mine. We walked to the elevator, and he fished in his back pocket for the keycard.

  “I know I said I wanted space,” he said. We watched the numbers tick off as we ascended. “But obviously I still love you.”

  The elevator doors opened with a ding. I followed him to the room, clutching my purse, walking behind him slightly.

  I recognized Duncan, one of his frat brothers, when he appeared around the corner, barreling toward us.

  “Richards,” he yelled belligerently. “You bastard. It’s not even nine o’clock, and you’re already getting some ass.”

  Trey�
��s laugh echoed through the otherwise quiet hallway. He slid the keycard from the slot and pushed the door open. “Fuck off, D. This is my girlfriend.”

  Duncan nodded at me, his body wavering. “No shit, you think I don’t know Alex? Listen, you two, make sure you use protection. Think I got a—” His eyes went blurry as he patted his pockets. “Got a Trojan or something—”

  Trey rolled his eyes. “Dude. It’s a frat party. You think I don’t have condoms? I’m not a fucking idiot.”

  Duncan pointed at Trey. “You still owe me a drink, you bastard.”

  “The drinks are free.”

  “I don’t give a fuck. You owe me.”

  “Fine,” Trey said, laughing again. “We’ll see you downstairs in a little bit.”

  Trey ushered me in the room after smacking Duncan on the back.

  He fumbled for the light switch, then seemed to change his mind and headed for the lamp, turning on the single low light. I watched him as he ran a hand through his hair.

  “You didn’t miss much in Mexico,” he said. “Just a lot of that kind of shit.”

  I imagined several Duncans and Treys running around the dingy bars, sand raining from their hair while they danced with girls in skimpy tops.

  He crossed the room to me and swept my hair over my shoulder. He finally looked me in the eyes long and hard. There was something missing from that look, but it was no different than any look he’d ever given me. It hit me that it wasn’t the way I wanted to be looked at—and that maybe I’d been wrong these last couple weeks about what I needed.

  He leaned in and touched his lips to mine.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. You look so good. I just felt like kissing you.”

  “We came up here to talk.”

  “Come on. You’re not that naïve.”

  No, I wasn’t. I knew why I was here. I sighed deeply and ran my hands over his biceps. “Does this mean we’re back together?”

  He rested his forehead against mine. “Yeah. Let’s try this again, Alex. If you want.”

  He kissed me harder this time, pressing his tongue between my lips. He tasted minty and cool, and a little like beer. My eyebrows wrinkled as his arms tightened around my waist, his tongue delving deeper.

  I stepped back from him and turned around. He unzipped the dress halfway, and I wiggled my backside.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Touch me,” I said.

  “I am.”

  “Lower.”

  His hands moved down and stopped. “What do you want me to do?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Um.” He rubbed the curve of my ass, then squeezed. “Jesus, this dress is scratchy.”

  “Spank me,” I said suddenly, growing frustrated. “Please? Would you spank me?”

  “Uh. No?”

  I glared at him over my shoulder.

  “Yes?” he corrected. “You want me to?”

  “Why else would I ask?”

  “It’s just . . . you’ve never asked me to—you don’t even like when I pull your hair.”

  “I don’t?”

  “I did once. You told me to told me to stop.”

  I was searching my memory when his palm landed gently on ass cheek. I looked over my shoulder at him. He was laughing silently.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “This just doesn’t seem like you.”

  I straightened my back and turned around, crossing my arms. “It’s a new dress,” I said, glancing down. “That’s what’s different.”

  “Yeah, it’s a nice dress. Really . . . shiny. I told you, you look good. More than good.”

  “More than good?” I repeated, cringing.

  He threw up his arms. “What do you want from me? I thought you wanted to get back together. You were pissed when we broke up. Your roommate told me you cried for days.”

  I nodded. “You’re right. This is exactly what I wanted.” I looked down at my dress again. If I listened hard, I could still hear the music thumping from the ground floor. Here was Trey, wanting to make me whole again. But somewhere over the past two weeks, I’d already put myself back together. Or someone else had.

  “Dean,” I said softly.

  “What?” Trey asked.

  “I have to go,” I said, turning away.

  “Alex—wait.”

  I walked to the hotel room door and then paused. I looked back at Trey.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have broken up with you, and I shouldn’t have told you about those other girls. Really—I want this.”

  “No, you don’t,” I said. “You want the dress. But I need someone who wants me with or without it.”

  The heavy door whooshed when I opened it. An audible click was all I heard behind me—not Trey’s footsteps or his words attempting to stop me.

  Once I hit the lobby, I strode toward the exit. When I spotted my friend Elyse with Todd, I hurried over, touching her arm.

  “Hey Al—”

  “You know my date?” I asked, pointing toward the ballroom.

  She squinted her eyes even though the door was closed. “You mean Chad?”

  “Yeah.” I glanced at Todd and back at her. “He told me you’re the most beautiful girl here tonight.”

  Her eyes softened. “Really?”

  “No. He said you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen—but he told me that on Monday when we were hanging outside of the English building, and you walked by and waved.”

  “I was hungover that day.” She cringed. “And I wore my pajamas to class. I didn’t even brush my hair.”

  “Exactly.”

  I walked away, hoping that was enough, because I was a week late already. Out in the cool night, I breathed in the fresh air and hailed a cab.

  “Where to?” he asked once I was inside.

  I sat back in my seat. On a Friday night—where would Dean be? I gave him an address and smoothed my hair down as we pulled away from the curb.

  When we arrived, I absentmindedly paid the cab driver, my thoughts coming fast. I waved my building pass, still dangling from my keychain, at the security guard. In the elevator, my fingers wrung in front of me. My nerves flared with each floor I passed. The doors opened to complete and silent darkness.

  I stepped out and went to Dean’s office. It was seconds before I heard the tapping of fingers against a keyboard. An older woman glanced up, her eyes scanning over me.

  “Um, we’re closed for business right now,” she said. “Can I help you?”

  I stuck out my hand. “You must be Grace. I’m Alexandra, the—”

  “Of course,” she said, standing and taking my hand. “The temp. Thank you for your help last week—was there a problem with the check?”

  “No. I’m here to see Mr. Brittany.”

  The door opened just then and Dean leaned against the frame. He didn’t look surprised to see me. “Grace, go home for the night, please.”

  “Oh.” She nodded after a moment, gathering her things as we stared at each other. When she’d left, he turned and walked back into his office, leaving the door open.

  “What are you doing here, Alex?”

  I stopped in the doorway, mustering all my courage. “What do you think?” I asked.

  He stood behind his desk and shook his head. “I think there’s no way the boy turned you down looking like that.”

  “You’d be right,” I said.

  He placed just his fingertips on the surface of the desk. “Then, again, I ask—why are you here?”

  “I don’t know,” I said softly.

  “You got what you wanted.”

  “Yes. I did. But it’s not what I want anymore.”

  “We can’t, Alexandra. It would never work.”

  “It would,” I said. “This is what I want.”

  “You should go.” He turned his back to me. “You’re too young. Gary—he’d never understand. And college is the time for . . . it
doesn’t matter. Just—go.”

  I swallowed, at a loss for words. I didn’t know I wanted this but suddenly I couldn’t live without it—without him. In his perfect suit, he was commanding and broad, but his shoulders fell slightly. Without thinking, I dropped to the floor on my hands and knees. I tossed my pursed aside, and he turned at the noise it made.

  “What are you doing?”

  I crawled slowly to his desk, never removing my eyes from him. He watched, motionless, until I was at his feet.

  “Go back to him, Alexandra.”

  “How can I?” I asked, tears threatening. “How can I possibly go back to Trey now—or anyone else for that matter?”

  “You have to. Our lives are too different, and you need someone your own age.”

  “I don’t,” I said, shaking my head. “That week changed me.”

  He swallowed, looking down and shaking his head. But I could see his eyes giving into me.

  “Yours,” I said.

  “You never cashed the check.”

  “I want to be yours—not just for a week.”

  “Mine,” he repeated and sighed. “Get off the floor.”

  “No.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Not until you tell me yes. Not until you say—”

  “You’re mine,” he said.

  I stood and stepped under his chin. “I don’t care if it’s wrong. I don’t care what they say. Make me yours, and none of that matters.”

  His hands grasped my cheeks and pulled me close to his lips. He kissed me ravenously, and my entire body wilted against him. Sturdy arms caught me, holding me upright, it seemed.

  “I hope you’re ready to stay,” he said. “When you walked out of my apartment last weekend, it took all my willpower not to pull you back in. And that’s the last time I’ll ever let that happen.”

  I touched his cheek and smiled, my heart expanding in my chest.

  “And you were right,” he continued, his hand trailing down my back to rest on my zipper. “You look amazing in this dress. But let’s get you out of it.”

  About the Author

  Jessica Hawkins grew up between the purple mountains and under the endless sun of Palm Springs, California. She studied international business at Arizona State University and has also lived in Costa Rica and New York City. Some of her favorite things include traveling, her dog Kimo, Scrabble, driving aimlessly and creating Top Five lists. She is the helpless victim of an overactive imagination that finds inspiration in music and tranquility in writing. Currently she resides wherever her head lands, which lately is the unexpected (but warm) keyboard of her trusty MacBook.