“Seriously, are you high?” Mahone stared at him blankly.
“What? He needs to free himself from this jinx, right?”
I ignored him and tapped my chin in thought. “What about ‘search for Mallory’?”
“Not too creative, but straight to the point.” Mahone nodded thoughtfully. “Why don’t we use the number four? It’s shorter and catchier.”
At this point he could have told me to dye my hair blue and hop on one leg and I would have done it willingly. “Whatever. Just make it happen.”
Mahone pressed ‘enter’ dramatically, slapping his hands together. “Done.”
And that was how the viral campaign #Search4Mallory began.
Chapter 6
Mallory
“Whoa! Can you believe this?”
“No way! What the heck? Is she viral?”
Still sulking from my lack of stage presence and womanly power, I ignored the commotion behind me despite my piquing curiosity. Claudia and Jinny were bent over the giant desktop that all three of us shared, whispering and giggling. When I felt I couldn’t take it anymore, I spun around in my seat to find both of them staring at me intently.
“Why are you looking at me like that for?” My hand automatically wandered toward my mouth, checking to see if I had spilled any of my cheese dip on my chin.
“You don’t have any of that processed goo on your face,” Claudia said with a smirk. “Seriously, you do know nachos are bad for you…right?”
“Yeah, they’re ‘nacho friends’!” Jinny burst into more giggles, leading me to wonder if they’d broken into our new bottle of wine without me knowing.
I rolled my eyes. “You know I eat when I’m depressed. It’s the reason why I’m not stick thin like you guys.”
“Umm, you’re hot, Mallory. Stop fishing for compliments.”
“Apparently not hot enough for a solo,” I muttered. “And I’m not fishing.”
“But you’re hot enough for Mr. Wonder Dick.”
“Did you really have to bring him up again?” I gaped, feeling my body immediately heat up. I hadn’t told the girls for fear of scrutiny—oh, who was I kidding? I was scared they’d force me to find him. But for the past few days I couldn’t stop thinking about my night with Mr. Wonder Dick. It was a welcome relief from thinking about Damien and Sarah all day, but it was still a bit unnerving to find myself consumed with thoughts of this stranger. Just thinking about the way his body moved against mine was enough to get me all worked up. In fact, I even had to relieve the pressure a few times while I was in the shower. Who says three showers a day was too much?
Claudia anxiously waved me over. “Check this out! I don’t know what you did to him, Miss Goody Good, but you obviously have some tricks hidden up your sleeve.”
“Please tell me all your secrets!” Jinny whined, fingering the diamond on her finger. “I want my honeymoon to be good.”
I rolled my eyes, acting as if I were being dragged over; when in reality my curiosity was bursting. “What are you two babbling about…” Gasp!
I stared at the monitor dumbly, blinking once, twice, three times. Staring back was a picture of me from Club Mal—luckily, a pretty good picture, if I do say so myself—with the hashtag ‘Search4Mallory’ captioned underneath.
I gulped in horror. “There are thousands of shares!”
The grins on both girls were irritatingly comical. They nodded excitedly. “It looks like his name is Asher and he wants to see you again.”
“I don’t understand…” I read the short caption in utter disbelief.
Mallory, I need to see you again, but didn’t get your number. Please contact me on this account.
Claudia tapped against the computer screen with her neon purple fingernail, which curved to a point at the edge. “It has his email address right here.
“Are you going to do it?” Jinny pressed, practically shaking with secondhand excitement.
I was scared. Downright freaked out.
I shook my head quickly. “No. This is some stalker shit. I don’t want any part of this. I mean, who does this kind of stuff?”
“Oh, come on!” Claudia wailed. “This is romantic.”
“No, it’s fucking scary. This is how you end up cut up and placed in a cardboard box in the middle of a forest.”
She stared at me incredulously. “God, can you please lay off those investigative news shows? Besides, what if he needs to tell you he has an STD or something?”
As if things couldn’t get any worse.
I didn’t budge, remaining frozen in place.
“Claudia, I think you broke her,” Jinny whispered, staring at me with concern.
Finally snapping out of it, I shook my head angrily.
“No,” I repeated in a firmer tone. “I am not going to meet him. Besides, we used protection.”
“That’s only ninety-nine percent effective—”
I cut Jinny off. “I’ll just get tested on my own. How do I know he’s not some psycho just setting me up or something?”
“Because we took the responsibility of searching for him online before we called you over.” Jinny clapped her hands proudly and clicked on another window. “Look right here; his name is Asher Nolan, and he’s been in movies!”
The two girls squealed again, leading me to roll my eyes. “How old are we again?”
“Young enough to fangirl over a celebrity!”
Though my heart was pounding, practically thrashing against my chest, I tried my best to remain collected. I pointed toward his filmography and grunted. “He’s listed as a backup dancer in most of these. Hardly a celebrity.”
“But he was also the main choreographer for Dancin’ Wild. That means he freaking met Felix Bateman!” Claudia was just a few decibels shy of yelling, probably not understanding why I wasn’t freaking out.
I lowered the corners of my mouth and nodded in appreciation. “Felix Bateman’s pretty hot. Isn’t he in that comedy coming out?”
Jinny’s eyes widened in exasperation. “Girl, Asher is hot! I mean, look at him!”
Right on cue she pulled up what looked to be a portfolio shot. He was shirtless and doing one of those weird breakdancing poses.
“He has four, six, eight abs!”
I scratched my head. “Um, I don’t think that’s how you count them.”
At least Jinny finally sounded like a mature adult. “You said he was nice, right?”
“Yeah…”
“You said you don’t feel dirty or regretful of that night?”
I nodded, biting my lip. I knew where this was going.
“So just meet him for a cup of coffee. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. What’s the worst thing that could happen?” I lifted a finger, preparing to speak, but quickly got cut off. “And don’t say ending up in a cardboard box. Meet in a public place and I promise you won’t find your kidneys in the black market. This might be the confidence boost you need to get back in Damien’s good graces, Beyonce.”
I lowered my hand and met Claudia’s sympathetic eyes. “I was never in his good graces to begin with.”
“You’re only young and unattached once. Just do it.” Claudia pressed her lips together and handed me the wireless keyboard. “Do it,” she coaxed.
I shut my eyes and shook my head. “I’m really going to regret this.”
Accompanied by a symphony of intolerable Woos! I slowly typed:
Hi, this is Mallory. We can do coffee. When do you want to meet?
Chapter 7
Asher
“She hit me up. She actually hit me up!” My fingers trembled as I hit the online app on my phone. The woman that had infiltrated every sleeping and waking moment of mine had actually taken the time to answer me!
For a brief second I was no longer consumed with thoughts about the jinx but rather the excitement of seeing her again.
Maybe she regretted leaving me hanging dry.
Maybe she regretted not getting my number!
My initial happiness quickly deflated when I saw the three short sentences she had sent.
Hi, this is Mallory. We can do coffee. When do you want to meet?
Noticing my crestfallen face, Gerald shoved me to the side. “She’s a jinx, man. No use getting hung up on her. You’re just meeting her to break the curse, right?”
That fact that we sounded straight out of a paranormal novel was not lost to me. Still, I was grateful that Gerald had put me in my place. “You’re right. I just need to rip this stupid band-aid off.” I shook my head and grimaced. “I don’t even like coffee.”
My fingers moved like lightning. If she wanted to pull that three sentence crap, I’d be right there doing it back.
Charged Coffee Cafe. Tomorrow. Noon.
“Why are you both acting like you’re in some spy movie with Matt Damon? Seriously, you two slept with each other. Why don’t you treat each other like actual humans instead of emailing short ass responses?” Gerald clucked before leaving me alone in the guest room.
I ignored him, reading Mallory’s message over and over again.
“She’s a jinx,” I reminded myself. “Just another hookup.”
But was that really true?
***
I tapped against the table rhythmically to the tune of an old James Brown song that played over and over again through my mind. I’d gotten to the coffee shop a full thirty minutes earlier than I needed to. I’d never felt as anxious meeting anyone before, which is saying a lot since I’d recently rubbed elbows with some of show business’ biggest actors. Yet, for some reason this Mallory girl made me feel extremely nervous.
Maybe she was a witch or something.
I stared at the boiling mug of tea in front of me, watching the wisps of steam dance through the air. I wasn’t too fond of tea, but given my absolute hatred for coffee, it seemed like the ultimate way to go.
“Of course the jinx would choose to meet for coffee,” I muttered. “She was probably able to sniff out how much I hate it.”
At five to twelve—I knew this because I was constantly eyeing the tin clock that hung above the doorway—I first caught sight of Mallory’s corn-colored hair outside the cafe’s window. A pair of gigantic sunglasses covered nearly half her face, but those out-of-this-world curves made me sure it was really her.
I sucked in my breath, watching as the siren walked inside the cafe. She peeled off those bug-eyed sunglasses of hers and glanced around rather hesitantly. It felt good to know that I wasn’t the only one anxious about our meeting.
Once her gaze finally landed on me, her eyes widened in both recognition and something else I couldn’t place. They seemed bluer that day for some reason; then again it was probably because I was seeing them in natural light as opposed to the dimly lit club or hotel room. As the latter crossed my mind, I felt my dick twitch like some hormonal teenaged boy. Disgusted with myself, I jumped to my feet to greet her like a man, but hit the table rather hard with my thigh, rattling the mug of tea. I winced as a blob of the greenish tinted liquid slopped over the lip, splashing onto the wooden surface. As if I already didn’t come off pathetic enough, here I was making a mess before we even began to speak.
Mallory cleared her throat and puffed her chest out by just a bit. Unlike other women I was used to, I didn’t think she did so to make her boobs look bigger. No…she was definitely trying to exert power, or in the very least, fake confidence.
“Mallory…” My voice trailed off. Fuck. What the hell should I do now? To make matters worse, it felt as if my cock was still stirring. Can dicks recognize women? I think mine just did.
Down, boy!
The temptress lifted an eyebrow, eyeing me cautiously. “You wanted to see me?”
I nodded quickly, probably looking as pitiful as I felt. “Yes!” I cleared my throat and dropped my tone. “Yes, I did. Thank you for meeting me.”
She took her time examining me, her eyes running from my face, down to my shoulders, and to my chest. Once she reached my crotch, where thankfully my bulge had died down, I couldn’t help but smirk. Clearing my throat, I watched as her head snapped back up so her eyes were back on mine. Her freckled cheeks immediately reddened, obviously blushing from being caught checking me out. I couldn’t say I hated it.
“Did you want to sit down?” I asked, attempting to extinguish the awkward fire burning around us.
She visibly gulped and nodded. “Yeah, let’s do that.”
As we took our seats, I leaned back to get a good look at her. She looked different than that night in the club, but I couldn’t say it was because of any alcohol infused beer-goggles or anything. She actually looked prettier now, in a more natural way.
Her eyes looked softer, without the harsh outline of her black eyeshadow. Her lips, which were ruby red the first night I met her, were now a carnation pink that somehow made her bottom lip look plumper and delicious. Even her hair looked different.
“Did you get a haircut?” Out of all the things I could have asked, that’s what I went for? Good one, Asher.
As I mentally face palmed myself, she shook her head. “No. You’re just probably thinking of those clip-on extensions I wore the night at the club.”
I felt my eyebrows furrowing. The girl sitting in front of me certainly seemed the completely opposite of the vixen I had hooked up with. This girl was more the kind you could bring home to Mama, whereas the other girl…let’s just say she’d be the conquest you’d brag about to your grandsons.
“It was my friend’s bachelorette party. We kind of went all out that night in the outfit department,” she explained quickly, as if validating her decision to wear a weave.
I waved her off, not really caring about what the hell she clipped onto her head. “Like I was saying, thanks for meeting with me, but let’s get down to business.”
Something about the way I spoke obviously pissed her off because in a split second her nervous expression morphed into an irritated scowl. “What did you expect from plastering my mug all over social media? Of course I felt as if I needed to meet you. Heck, I was practically forced to.”
The blood drained from my face. “Wait one second there—”
“No! You wait and listen to me. Because of you, my photo is being used in one of those fake cam girl pop-up ads!”
“Sorry about that, I kinda figured—hold up, how the heck did you even find that out? Do you visit those…um cam girl sites often?” The corners of my mouth threatened to lift up, but I knew I’d probably piss her off more if she thought I was teasing. There was no way I’d risk another spell thrown my way.
Her eyes bugged out. “Of course not! My roommates just wanted to know how viral ‘Search4Mallory’ went. It’s not that hard doing an image search online.”
I lifted my hands, palm side out in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”
The apples of Mallory’s cheeks were tomato red at this point. She shifted lower in her seat, glancing from one side of the cafe to the other.
I frowned, never taking my eyes off the cute little slope of her button nose. “What’s wrong?”
She lowered her face between her hands and barely whispered, “Is it me or is everyone staring at us right now?”
Finally tearing my gaze off of her, I scanned the room, surprised to find that we had indeed garnered an audience. I let out a loud snort. “Was it everyone’s phones pointed in our direction that tipped you off?”
Mallory was obviously miffed, but I wasn’t sure if it was at me or our fellow coffee shop patrons. “Everyone knows who I am now, thanks to you. They know we hooked up and—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I interrupted. “We never posted anything about our hookup.”
“Well, it’s kinda obvious that we did—wait, did you say we? You mean you had someone help you with all of this?” Okay, she was definitely miffed at me.
“The same way you had your roommates look into it,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest. I glanced around the small cafe once more and scowled.
“Who cares if people are watching us? It’s obvious they’re just bored with their sorry lives and need some extra fun. If that’s through us, so be it.”
“Are you kidding me?” Her jaw clenched in exasperation. “I couldn’t even walk five feet from my apartment without everyone staring at me. I had to hide my face all the way here like I was some sort of celebrity or presidential candidate!”
Ah, that explained those ridiculous sunglasses.
“Being stared at it isn’t a big deal,” I muttered. It was losing that was a big deal.
“Oh yeah, you wouldn’t know how it felt, would you?” she shot back with accusation in her tone.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re like some bigshot Hollywood guy. You wouldn’t know how the other half lived.”
Hollywood.
Once again that term was thrown out toward me, but for some reason it didn’t bother me as much when she said it. Probably because there was no negative connotation surrounding it.
“I’m hardly a big shot. I just do some dance work…speaking of which, somebody did her research.” I couldn’t help but smile smugly. Maybe I’d gotten into her head as much as she did in mine.
I didn’t think it was possible for her cheeks to become redder, but she definitely surprised me. “It was my roomie who looked you up,” she hissed. “We had to make sure you weren’t some psycho stalker before I met with you.”
“But not before you came home with me,” I shot back, feeling unjustifiably angry for even hooking up to begin with. I couldn’t believe I had wasted the past few days lusting after the memory of her, when she was here acting as if I were some leech. Hell, she was the one who gave me bad luck!
Her mouth dropped open. “You know if this was some ruse to get into my pants again or to try to date me or whatever, you’re miserably failing.”
“Date you?” I repeated in shock. “Why would I want to do that?”
I’d only seen that look of pure, immense anger one other time in my life. It was when I was ten years old and decided to use my mother’s brand new sedan, the one she had saved up for by working countless double shifts at the local clinic, as my very own trampoline. The look of pure ferocity on my mom’s face when she walked into the garage was enough to make Medusa proud. Mallory’s expression far exceeded that. In fact, I had to run my hands over my body to make sure I wasn’t frozen in stone.
Breaking Hearts (B-boy #3) Page 4
