A Hard Place to Breathe

by Barbara C. Doyle

  A Hard Place to Breathe

  Barbara C. Doyle

  This Book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A Hard Place to Breathe

  Copyright © 2017 by Barbara C. Doyle

  Kindle Edition

  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.

  Cover Artist:

  Emily Wittig Designs and Photography

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.

  —To Ollie—

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  1

  There was a total of eight knocks on the door before I hauled my lazy ass out of bed to see who was suicidal enough to wake me up before ten o’clock in the morning. After the first three I assumed they would go away, but after the next three, I knew I wasn’t so lucky. The last two sealed their fate. They were dead, because I was going to ruthlessly murder them.

  I didn’t bother checking in the mirror to see how horrible I looked since I’d only been sleeping for less than two hours. Yet, it was probable that my hair was somehow tangled with bedhead and my breath could kill a cactus. Mornings were a curse to me.

  As I dragged my feet across the carpet toward the door, my eyes drifted toward my roommate’s door, which was open, revealing a made bed and empty room. It shouldn’t surprise me considering Tara scheduled early classes this semester, and spent just about any extra time in between those at the library. I barely saw her anymore.

  I swung the door open without checking to see who it was first, because I was at the point in my morning when I could barely give a crap about my looks.

  That was, until I saw a blue-eyed beauty standing on the other side, his jet black hair cut short and slightly spiked with gel on the top. He had a duffle bag hanging from his right shoulder, and a suitcase hanging from his hand. When I looked from his baggage to his face, his eyes flashed with something I couldn’t read. Surprise maybe? He flashed me a boyish grin, showing me white teeth I’d only seen before in toothpaste commercials.

  There was something familiar about him, but it probably concerned his uncanny similarity to my type.

  Casually, I asked, “Have we slept together before?”

  His eyebrows went up and a dimple appeared as he grinned in amusement. “I’m fairly certain I’d remember if we had previous…encounters.” His eyes casually drifted to my chest, which was only covered by a ratty old band t-shirt and no bra. “After all,” he continued, meeting my eyes again, “You have very nice…assets.”

  I rolled my eyes. “So if we don’t know each other, why are you knocking on my door at ungodly hours in the morning?”

  One of his eyebrows shot up. “Not a morning person, huh? Considering its ten in the morning and all.”

  I just shrugged.

  “Or late night?” he pried.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  His eyes flashed. “You didn’t answer mine.”

  We just stared at each other for a long moment.

  He broke first, grinning. “I’m your new neighbor. Apartment 32.” He gestured toward the door across the hall. “I seem to have locked myself out though.”

  I snorted. “And I’m supposed to do what…?”

  He set his suitcase down on the ground. “I locked my phone inside the apartment too, and I’d like to call the landlord to see if somebody can come let me in.”

  I held up my finger for him to hold on a second while I went back into my apartment to grab something. I came back to him holding up a bobby pin tailored to pick locks.

  I grabbed my keys and closed my door behind me. I walked past him and his curious stare and started working the pin in the lock. It only took me a mere moment before the lock was undone and the door opened. I stuck the bobby pin in my hair and turned to face him.

  “You can thank me later,” I told him, unlocking my own door.

  “Do you do that often?” he questioned.

  I looked over my shoulder. “A time or two when it’s necessary.”

  I walked into my apartment, leaving him standing and staring at me with nothing but a curious smile on his face.

  Ashley 1.

  Mystery guy 0.

  The music in the frat house was loud, but the people cheering during the beer pong match were even louder. I weaved throughout the massive crowd of bodies that were packed in the too-tiny space and tried finding room to breathe.

  I loved parties. Or, at least, I liked them. They were always a good way to get away from the stress of assignments and exams. Not to mention they made for great stories later on. But sometimes they were too crowded, and the escape I yearned for in them made me feel more like I was suffocating than having fun.

  I was sure over half of the people in attendance at this one were freshman straight from home, craving the party life. Hell, I had been in their shoes at one point. But the incoming class was at least a third larger than the one that came in last year, and the people at this party were rowdier than ever. Too many people wasn’t always a bad thing, but tonight I wasn’t feeling it.

  A pair of hands found their way on my hips as I swerved through baby-faced freshies who were drinking and dancing to the obnoxious techno music.

  I looked behind me to see Todd grinning back. “I thought that was you,” he greeted, his words slurring from the unknown amount of alcohol he consumed. He even wreaked of the stuff, which I hated.

  I smiled anyway and turned to face him. “Is this your frat? I heard you guys moved over the summer.”

  He scanned the room nodding. “It wasn’t exactly what we wanted, but the options were limited. It’s got enough room for what we need it for.”

  Something flashed in his glassy brown eyes, and for a microsecond I was sad that I wasn’t looking into the baby blue color of mystery boy.

  But I snapped out of it.

  “Speaking of which,” he said, leaning down and kissing me. It was sloppy, and his breath tasted like beer and some other mixture I didn’t want to know about. “I’ve got a room right upstairs.”

  His hands dipped under my shirt.

  I let him.

  His lips claimed my mouth again.

  I let him.

  And when he guided me toward the narrow staircase that had three couples currently making out on it, I let him do that too.

  It wasn’t like I found him unattractive. We’d slept together before last semester. I was drunk, he was drunker. From what I remembered, it was a good time. But all good times had to come to an end.

&n
bsp; He pushed a bedroom door open and closed it behind us. His hands were cupping my butt through my skintight jeans, and he growled as he pressed his body into mine.

  I felt his erection against my thigh, and something changed.

  Maybe it was the fact I hadn’t really drank anything. I always tended to have a few beers before I really let loose. I was always so uptight if I didn’t let some liquid courage do the talking.

  It didn’t matter though.

  I gently pushed him away from me and said, “Not tonight, Todd.”

  His brows furrowed. “You didn’t have a problem the last time,” he noted cockily.

  I shrugged. “Well I’m just not feeling it.”

  He snorted. “What got into you all the sudden? You never say no to a quick screw.”

  My jaw ticked. “You know, you’re kind of an asshole.”

  “And you’re a fucking tease,” he returned, opening his door. “Get out.”

  I eyed him. “Gladly,” I snipped.

  “Go home, Ashley.”

  Was he kicking me out because I wouldn’t sleep with him?

  “You’re seriously going to make me leave?”

  He crossed his arms on his chest. “It’s my party. I can do whatever I damn well please. If you’re not going to give it up, then what the hell are you doing here?”

  My hands clenched into tight fists. “Whatever. This party is lame anyway.”

  He called something after me as I walked down the hall and toward the stairs, but the music drowned out whatever unimportant shit that escaped his mouth. He was a prick, and always had been. But it never bothered me before with a few drinks in me.

  I didn’t know why I never bothered doing my usual shots when I first got here, but I had a pretty good feeling it had something to do with the blue eyes that were taunting me in the back of my mind.

  2

  “Can’t you just stay in this weekend?” I asked Tara for the thirtieth time, hoping my persistence would win her over. She had the sudden need to go home this weekend instead of honoring our Nicholas Sparks movie marathon plans.

  She gave me a side glance and then started jotting something down in her notebook again. “I told you already, Ash. I have to go back home for the weekend.”

  “But we had a date with Ben and Jerry,” I reminded her, slumping down in my chair. The library wasn’t as busy as usual, which made it irritatingly quiet.

  “You had a date with Ben and Jerry,” she argued. “I have more important things to do. No offense.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Ever since this semester started you haven’t been in the apartment as much. I miss my best friend!”

  She put her pen down. “This is our last semester of college. Aren’t you worried about what comes after graduation? I want to make sure I have a job lined up and an apartment that isn’t student rented.”

  Now she was just depressing me. We were only two weeks into the semester, and graduation was the last thing I wanted to think about. But that was Tara, always thinking about the next step while the rest of us just tried to hold on to the present.

  I used to know what that was like all too well.

  “You know what I’m thinking about?” I returned, pushing my chair out. “A Reese’s. You know what’s even better than that? Peanut Butter Cup Ben and Jerry’s. Our favorite.”

  She sighed. “Seriously, Ashley. Have you even looked into jobs yet? Internships? Something to get you started out?”

  I groaned. “What are you, my mother?”

  She eyed me. “I have a job interview this weekend that is really important. I can get a job at my old elementary school, which is amazing. Can’t you be happy for me?”

  I gave her a genuine smile. “I am happy for you, Tara. I just want to enjoy this semester, you know? Blair is off with Nate all the time and we don’t see her that often. And when she’s not with Nate she’s working. We need a girl’s weekend like we used to have. No job interviews. No homework. Just fun girly shit.”

  She laughed. “I don’t think ‘fun girly shit’ is selling the girly aspect of the weekend. And we can have a girl’s weekend soon, just not now. What about getting your old job back? I heard the department was looking for a night host again.”

  I crinkled my nose. “That job sucked and paid worse. I couldn’t afford anything outside of rent.”

  She just shrugged.

  “Plus,” I added, “I already know what I’m going to do after graduation.”

  That peaked her interest.

  “I’ll be a stripper.”

  She just stared at me. No emotion. No response.

  No fun.

  I sighed in defeat. “I’m getting a Reese’s. Want anything?”

  She just shook her head and went back to taking notes. There used to be a time where she would have laughed, even if we could totally see me as a stripper. I could tell she was serious about the future now, and part of me envied that.

  The vending machines were located on the west end of the library, near Jazzman’s Café, in between the two sets of entrances. I pulled out a dollar from my pocket and shoved it in the machine. After pressing the number, I watched as the candy slowly moved off of its slot. Before it dropped, it got stuck by the hook.

  I groaned loudly and hit the machine.

  I heard the door behind me open and slam shut from the burst of wind outside. It didn’t stop me from smashing my hand against the machine again, to no avail.

  “Having trouble?” a gruff voice asked from behind me.

  I turned to see my familiar blue-eyed beauty smiling at me.

  “The machine ate my money,” I told him. I stuck out my bottom lip. “And my Reese’s.”

  He chuckled. “Let me help. It’s the least I can do since you helped me the other day.”

  He stepped up to the machine, and with one swift kick, the Reese’s fell out of its slot and where I could pick it up.

  “Do you do that often?” I asked, mimicking his question to me over the weekend.

  He grinned, catching on. “A time or two when it’s necessary.”

  I grabbed the candy bar. “So…”

  He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’m Ezra.”

  “Ashley.”

  He smiled. “So what are you up to besides beating up a vending machine?”

  I shrugged. “That was pretty much all I had on my to-do list today. Unless you count going to the club to strip for a few hundred. Mama needs a new laptop.”

  His eyebrows shot up.

  “I’m thinking of getting a new wig. Blue is nice and all but the name Sapphire is getting old. I mean I’m more of a Ruby or a Cinnamon. What do you think?”

  “Well…” He cleared his throat, and a faint pink tone shaded his cheeks.

  I started laughing as I opened up my Reese’s. “I’m just kidding, Ezra. Not a stripper. Just a poor, unemployed college student.”

  His cheeks reddened deeper. “Oh. Well…nothing wrong with strippers even if you were one. I mean not many qualifications needed since you undress yourself every day.”

  I grinned. “Very good point,” I told him, passing him one of the Reese’s cups from the package. He accepted it with a small smile. “Only problem is I can’t dance to save my life. And I love food. Like a lot.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  I eyed him. “Last I checked, most people don’t pay by the pound. If you get my drift.”

  I lifted the Reese’s to my mouth and bit down, starting to walk back toward the study area. Ezra followed next to me, matching my steps.

  “I’m not entirely sure what to say to that,” he admitted, finishing off his Reese’s. “Thanks for the candy by the way.”

  I smiled at him. “Well if I’m ever going to accomplish my life-long dream to become a stripper, I need to cut my sugar in take in half. So, really, I should be thanking you.”

  I saw a slight gleam in his eyes. “What do you really want to do with your life?”

  I held back a groan. “N
ot you too.”

  Just as I said that, we arrived back at Tara’s table. She looked up as I sat down, her eyes connecting in confusion with Ezra. She looked at me, waiting for an explanation.

  Ezra stood there, with his backpack hanging from his shoulder, looking between Tara and me.

  I leaned back in my chair. “Tara, this is Ezra. Ezra, this is Tara. Tara and I are roommates, which means we’re all neighbors.”

  Tara smiled. “So you’re the one who moved in across the hall? I heard the landlord talking about a new tenant the other day.”

  He nodded. “Sure am. Even locked myself out of the apartment the first day, which is how I met Ashley.”

  Tara looked at me with narrowed eyes. I never got around to telling her about Ezra’s visit.

  I just shrugged at her.

  “So,” Tara said, focusing back on Ezra. “You can sit down if you want. We don’t bite.”

  “Speak for yourself,” I corrected her.

  She shook her head. “Behave yourself before you scare him away. We haven’t had a neighbor that actually liked talking to us.”

  “Why not?” he asked, sitting down in between us.

  I smirked. “Tara thinks that I scare them all away. Apparently my awesomeness is just too much for them.”

  “Or it’s the sick sense of humor, partying, and that one time you tried breaking into Mrs. Meyer’s apartment when you were drunk,” she pointed out.

  “I was slightly buzzed.”

  Tara snorted. “You tried stealing her cat.”

  “It was practically demanding to be let out,” I argued, crossing my arms on my chest. I looked at Ezra. “Mrs. Meyer is the creepy cat lady of the building. That cat totally wanted out. I would too if I had to live with her.”

  “Be nice,” Tara scolded.

  Ezra chuckled. “So you tried breaking into her apartment because you wanted to help her cat?”

  “No. I tried breaking in because I thought it was my apartment. I spent too much time that night with Jack Daniels.”

  He just smirked.

  “Anyway,” Tara said slowly. “Ashley has this tendency to have too much fun, and it scares other people. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave while you still can.”