by Anne Mercier
I unfold the dolly and set it on the ground, stacking three boxes on it, and wrapping the bungee cords tight around the boxes. I grab another duffle bag and close the trunk.
I just get through the door when I run into a very hard body. I look up and see the tattoos and know it's Elevator Boy. I really don't want to deal with this.
"Hey there, Three. Need some help?" he asks, grinning down at me.
He really is attractive—if I went for that type, which I don't. Danny would get along with him. They'd bond. That's just how he was. He got along with everyone—just as I used to—used to. That's not me anymore.
"I think I've got it."
"C'mon. You got more stuff in there?" he asks, nodding toward my vehicle.
I meet his gaze. "Yeah, but I can—"
"Oh, I've no doubt you can, Three. But why should you have to if I'm here to help you?"
Yeah. There's no wiggling out of that. Why couldn't he be a dumb bad boy instead of a logical one?
"Okay," I tell him reluctantly. "Thanks."
He chuckles. "I can tell how much you want me to help you, so I'm going to be the best helper you've ever seen."
"Oh boy."
He grabs the two duffle bags, slinging them so they crisscross his body, then he grabs the last two big boxes, hefting them with ease, his biceps bulging and as it does, I notice his tattoo is of a beautiful palm tree in a tropical setting.
"Ready?" he asks.
"Um, yeah." Why do I sound like such an idiot around this guy? It's like he gets anywhere near me and my IQ drops fifty points.
"That's quite an accent you've got there, Three. Where're you from?" he asks.
"North Carolina."
"That explains it."
I roll my eyes. "What about you?"
"Brooklyn."
"You're not far from home then," I reply as we wait for the elevator.
"Nope. My ma chewed me a new ass when I mentioned going away to other schools. Why would you want to move to California and leave your mother here all alone?" he mimics and I laugh.
"You're a mama's boy!" I exclaim and he grins.
"Guilty."
We pack into the elevator and this time around the ride seems to go much faster. Before I know it we're in front of my room.
"I need my keys, Elevator Boy," I remind him.
He laughs. "Elevator Boy?"
I shrug and take the keys he's holding out. "It fit." I unlock the door and open it then turn to him. "Besides, you call me Three."
"It fit," he retorts.
"Touché."
We step into the room and we're met with silence until Elevator Boy turns and sees Cam standing in the kitchen area.
"What's up, Stone?"
"Nada. Just helping my sister move in," Cam answers.
"You're Cam's sister?" he asks, clearly shocked.
I laugh. "Um, no."
"But we do know each other," Cameron says and my gaze whips up to meet his.
"We do?" I ask, my snark clear.
He nods and grins a smile that is less-than-friendly. "Sure we do. Everyone in Destiny knows each other."
"I suppose they do, but that doesn't make us friends," I bite out, making my way to my room.
"No, it sure fucking doesn't," I hear him reply and flip him off over my head as I keep walking.
"Wow, nice. Miss Priss finally showing her true colors?" he asks and Alexa smacks him.
I merely shrug and walk into my room. I set the dolly against the wall and put the duffle on my bed.
"What was that about?" Elevator Boy asks.
I shrug again. "I have no idea. He's never liked me."
"Really? Do you know why?"
"Nope. He's just always been like that to me," I answer.
"Rude?"
I scoff. "That's an understatement. He's always treated me like something he'd scrape off the bottom of his shoe."
Elevator Boy wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side. I immediately shake off his arm, not used to anyone but Danny touching me like that. "His loss is my gain?"
I give him a look and he grins wider. "I don't think so."
"You'll come around."
"Not likely," I counter. "Thank you for your help but now I've got a lot of unpacking to do."
"Trying to get rid of me?"
"What gave me away?"
He laughs. "Beautiful and funny. A combination I can't resist."
"Try."
"What's your name, Three?"
"Oh, now he wants my name? Already been in my bedroom and asks my name on the way out. Typical," I tease. I don't know where this playfulness is coming from. It feels right and wrong at the same time.
He throws back his head and laughs. "I'm Sebastian."
"Of course you are," I say under my breath. Every bad boy has a name like Sebastian. "I'm Olivia."
"Yeah, you certainly are."
I raise a brow and he winks. Oh-ho, no way. I miss Danny so much in this minute. My sweet Danny. The ache pierces my heart. The bad boy has got to go.
I turn him around and push him out of my room and toward the door.
"Thanks for all your help."
"My pleasure. What are you doing tomorrow?" he asks, turning around and looking down at me with those deep brown eyes.
"Unpacking and getting my stuff set up. Double checking I have all my books and if I don't, going to the bookstore. Then I'll be reading the first chapter for my psych class," I answer.
"Hmm. One of those good girls who always does the right thing?"
Cam snorts as he walks into the room. "You don't know the half of it, buddy."
"Why don't you enlighten him then?" I bite back. I've never once talked back to Cameron Stone. He's always said the horrible things he wanted to and I just stood there and took them. I figured if he needed to vent on someone, then I could take it. So why am I challenging him now?
Then I remember. I'm not me anymore.
"Nah. Let him find out for himself," Cam gibes.
"Happy to," Sebastian retorts. "See ya 'round, Three."
I roll my eyes as I close the door behind him. I turn to see Cam glaring at me.
"What? What could I have possibly done now?" I question.
His eyes narrow. "You just got here and already you've got a guy hanging on you?"
"He's not—"
"Oh, he's hanging." Cam walks closer and rolls a quarter between his fingers, over and over. "How do you think Danny would feel knowing that?"
I stand there for a second, stunned. I can't even think of a come back. I've never had to. I've never been this girl. For a second the old me is standing there looking at this hulk of a man who wants to cut me to the bone. He's succeeded.
I just look at him, tears spilling over, falling unnoticed from my eyes. When I find it hard to breathe and hold back the sob clogging my throat, I merely turn and walk to my bedroom, closing the door with a quiet click.
He's right. Cameron Stone is right. In spite of that I wish I'd told him to fuck off. I bet that would've thrown him off balance.
I sit on the edge of the bed and let the sob break free, catching my breath when it does. But then another and another sneak out. I would never do anything to hurt Danny. How dare he insinuate I would?
I can hear Alexa yelling at Cam but I tune them out. I reach into my purse and grab my iPod, putting the earbuds in, and turning my "Danny and Livvy" playlist up so I can't hear them anymore, focusing on the music and Danny.
No. Cameron Stone is not right. I did nothing wrong. I allowed a guy to help me carry my things up. He wasn't the only guy offering to help others. What business is it of Cam's anyway—the jerk.
I wasn't betraying you, Danny.
Danny is my heart and screw Cameron Stone. He doesn't know crap.
I sigh as I begin unpacking, tucking my iPod into my pocket. I really need to learn how to swear and be quicker with snarky responses. With Cameron Stone's sister as my roommate, I'm definitely going to need
to make that number one on my list.
Damn Cameron Stone anyway.
CHAPTER 4
"The thing is, I think you needed to happen to me."
-Rachel Wolchin
Cameron
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Alexa yells.
"What?"
"You know what. Why would you say something like that to her?"
I shrug. "It was an honest question. If the truth hurts…"
"You're an asshole," Alexa says giving me a shove. "You now she's been in love with Danny since they were in diapers."
I shrug. "He's dead. If she wanted to play the field, now's the time for her to do it."
"You're a dick."
"And?"
My little sister narrows her eyes and pokes me in the chest. "You leave Liv alone. She's been through more than any person should have to in ten lifetimes. She doesn't need your shit on top of it, so if you can't behave, then you can't come here anymore."
"Are you serious? You're picking Olivia Brennan over your own brother?"
"No. I'm picking a sweet friend over my asshole brother. Learn how to be civil to Liv and there won't be a problem."
"You're over-reacting," I tell her simply—and she is. So, maybe I was a dick. So what? It's nothing new when it comes to Olivia. She rubs me wrong. She always has. "That perky nice girl thing she has going on? I know that shit's fake. No one is that nice all the time."
"Olivia is. You're mistaking her for—"
"I'm. Not." I grit my teeth. I know where Alexa's trying to go and I'm not in the mood to go there today.
"Besides, she's not the same now, Cam. Not after the accident."
"Maybe. Or maybe she's finally showing us who she really is."
Alexa growls in frustration. "Go away, Cam. I'll deal with the rest myself. Maybe if you're not here, some hot guy will offer to help me like Sebastian helped Olivia."
I cross my arms over my chest. "I don't think so. You won't be getting involved with any of these fuckwads," I tell her simply. Fuck no, she won't. Not if I have anything to say about it—and I have plenty to say.
She rolls her eyes. "I'm going to meet someone this year. I just know it, and you're going to let it happen."
"Fuck no, I'm not."
"You are. And do you know why you are?" she sing-songs.
"I'm—"
"Big brother, you certainly are because you want me to be happy."
"And you think some guy is going to make you happy?" I ask, narrowing my eyes, not liking that thought—that my sister thinks it takes a guy to make her happy.
"No. I think the right guy will make me happy. And if you had a heart in your chest instead of an empty space, you'd know that Olivia had the right guy and she lost him." I stare at her, knowing what she's saying is true, and while I admit I'm sorry she's suffered losing so much, it won't make me like her. "She lost him, Cam. She lost her best friends. Instead of being such a jerk to her, maybe trying being her friend. You just might like the person beneath the surface—the one you don't know but think you do."
"Whatever. I gotta go. There's a party tonight. You coming?" I ask.
"Hell yes, I'm coming. Mr. Right just might be there!" she grins.
"More like Mr. Wrong. It's a frat party, Lex. They all want a quick lay. Don't you fall for that shit. I don't want to have to beat the hell out of some idiot who played you," I tell her. No one fucks around with my sister like that. I'll beat a fucker down.
"Especially since they might end up being one of your friends," she mocks.
"Better not be," I growl.
"I'm bringing Liv."
I groan. "Great."
"It'll be fun. You'll see."
Famous last words.
***
The minute she walked in, Brittany Jorgensen draped herself over me. She's a busty blonde who knows how to fuck, which is why I'm not shaking her off. I don't do clingy. Hell no. If I wanted that, I'd have a girlfriend. I shudder at the thought. What I need is to get laid, get rid of some of this tension, and Brit is good for a marathon.
The house is packed and the alcohol is flowing. I look around. I saw Alexa earlier, but no Olivia. Guess Miss Priss is too good for a frat party. My lip curls at the thought.
I spot Alexa's red curls across the room and then I see her. Olivia Brennan. Olivia Brennan as I've never seen Olivia Brennan. Her hair straight instead of wavy. She's wearing makeup, dark makeup. She's always been one of those girls who's never needed makeup to look pretty, but whatever she's got going on has my cock twitching in my pants. And that red lipstick. Fuck me.
I lower my gaze taking in the skin-tight black dress. For as much skin as its covering, it shouldn't be sexy, but god damn it's making me hard. I lower my gaze even further and see a pair of black high-heeled sandals. Fuck.
Brittany wiggles in my lap and I take a drink of my beer.
"Someone's happy to see me," she purrs, her hand sliding down to grab my dick.
"He'll be happy to show you how much later," I assure her, removing her hand. There's a time and place and this isn't one of them.
She leans in looking like she's going to kiss me. I head her off at the pass, kissing her cheek and urging her to stand. "Grab us a drink?"
"Of course." Brit stands up, thrusting her fucking amazing tits out, her ass coming in a close second, and takes my cup. When she heads out, I glance back over at my sister. She's chatting up some jock boy.
"That your sister?" Braxton asks. He's the star QB for the Prospect Rebels. He hands me the ball a lot and I run the fucker in. We make a good team on the field and Anthony Braxton is the guy I'd call to bail me out of jail.
"Yeah. Stop looking at her," I caution.
"Fuck, man, she's hot," Dekker blurts out. I clench my fists.
Brax chuckles. "You better watch it. Stone's protective of his sister."
"I was just—"
"Don't. Unless you want there to be a RIP Seth Dekker ceremony," I tell him cutting him a glare.
"What's wrong with admiring a pretty girl?" Dekker asks. The dude doesn't know when to shut up.
"Look all you want, fucker, but talk about her or even think of touching her and I'll pound your ass, got it?" I warn.
"No worries there. But, her friend is another matter altogether."
I scoff. "Good luck with that one. She's as cold as ice, man."
Seth smirks. "I bet I could thaw her out a bit."
Not likely.
"Isn't that the one—" Brax starts only to cut himself off at my nod. "Damn."
"What?"
"I can see why she's got you twisted up," he replies.
I look at him like he's crazy. He's got to be. "What the fuck are you smokin'? No way in hell would I be interested in Miss Priss."
"She doesn't look so Prissy to me," Brittany cuts in, glancing over to Olivia.
Liv is leaning back against the wall, cup in hand, while Sebastian leans next to her, his forearm just above her head. Slick fucker. When she lets out a laugh, something tightens in my gut. Through narrowed eyes I watch as he lifts one of her black streaks of hair and rubs it between his fingers.
"He's so hot," Brittany's friend Candace leers.
"Right?" Brit agrees.
I stand up abruptly, Brit falling on her ass on the floor. Fuck getting laid. You sit on my lap, you don't talk about other dudes. What kind of shit is that?
"What the hell, Cam?" she shrieks, my friends laughing, pissing her off even more.
I give her a shrug and walk away. Behind me I hear Brax say, "Sitting in the guy's lap you're going to fuck later but drooling over another one. If that doesn't spell slut, I don't know what does."
"I didn't mean anything by it!" she screeches. "And fuck you, Brax!"
"Epic, Stone," Brax says, slapping me on the shoulder.
"She was annoying me. Her voice…" I shake my head. "Like nails on a chalkboard."
"So much you had to dump her before you bang her?" he asks.
I shrug.
"I'll bang her later. She'll be back."
He shakes his head and I just smirk.
We get to where Sebastian is talking up Olivia and that same tightening in the pit of my stomach happens. What the hell is that anyway? All I know is that this isn't the guy for her. No way. He's one of those fuck 'em and chuck 'em guys—like me. I can admit it. I know what I am. I'm not up for a girlfriend. Who needs that shit? It's bad enough that I'm going to have to deal with my sister and Liv for three more years.
"What's up, Smith?" Brax asks and they do the dude handshake.
"Just hanging with these two pretty girls." He looks up at me and grins. "You ditch your sure thing?"
"I'm not into clingers."
"That could be a problem if you're looking to get laid," Sebastian replies.
"Nah. Plenty more where she came from." At that Olivia makes a gagging sound. What the fuck? "There a problem, Priss?"
Her eyes narrow, her lips firm, and her cheeks flush. Damn if she isn't the hottest thing I've ever seen right now. Fucking hell. I know what that tightening is. I want her. I am so fucked.
"Yes, there is a problem."
I raise a brow, genuinely surprised she's challenging me. I like it. "Do tell."
"You."
"Me?"
"Yes, you. You're the problem and guys like you. You disgust me. Using girls the way you do," she seethes, her lip curling on the last word.
"I hate to tell you, Priss, but your guy Sebastian? He's one of those guys."
She snorts. "So? We're friends."
I nod my head and eye up Sebastian. "For now. He'll charm you out of those granny panties in no time."
"Not likely. I'm not one of those girls. Call me Priss all you want. I'd rather be that than a slut," she bites back. Good for her. She really does have some spine in there.
"You don't have to be a slut to want to fuck a guy for the sake of fucking him, Priss," I tell her, using language I know will make her uncomfortable. Bingo. She's blushing now, and not in anger, but embarrassment.
"Well, that's not who I am," she admits.
