I Knew You Were Trouble

by Lauren Layne

  They’d been dating for months now, and usually being in the same room with them was unbearable. At least for Nick.

  Today, though, something felt different.

  The annoying part of him that always seemed to be in tune with Taylor Carr, even when he didn’t want to, sensed that something was amiss in Taylor and Bradley’s obnoxious love affair.

  And whatever Bradley wanted from Taylor, it didn’t involve a roommate of any kind. Certainly not a roommate of the Nick Ballantine variety.

  So Nick had done what any hot-blooded, troublemaking guy would do.

  He’d volunteered.

  And it was…awkward.

  Taylor was staring at Nick, Bradley was staring at Taylor, and Nick…

  Poured himself a cup of coffee, pretending indifference.

  “So?” he said to Taylor, lifting the black Oxford mug in a questioning gesture. “What do you say?”

  Her gray eyes stared at him in shock. It was refreshing to have her look at him with something other than disdain, but the silence in the room was getting uncomfortable.

  Where the hell was the rest of the jock-heavy Oxford team when you needed them? Hell, didn’t editors Lincoln Mathis and Cole Sharpe have a sixth sense for being present for this sort of shit?

  “You are not moving in with me,” Taylor finally managed.

  “Definitely not,” Bradley agreed, clearly relieved by Taylor’s response. As though his opinion counted.

  A mistake. Huge.

  Nick took a sip of coffee to hide his grin as Taylor whipped her temper in Bradley’s direction.

  For a man who was her co-worker and her lover, Bradley sure didn’t know the woman very well.

  Nick didn’t even like Taylor, and he knew that nothing set her off quite like being told what she should or should not do.

  “I’m not sure you get a say.”

  “Taylor—”

  Calloway stepped toward her, and her eyes narrowed in warning.

  Nick sighed. Stirring the pot had been fun at first, but the melodrama was getting tiresome. “On second thought, I’ll find a more hospitable home. The subway tracks. Dumpster. Someplace like that.”

  He started to retreat, leaving them to their lame lovers’ quarrel, but Taylor reached out, perfectly manicured red nails digging into his forearm. “Don’t you dare renege. Do you really need a place to live?”

  “Eventually,” he said cautiously. “It’s not urgent.”

  She rolled her eyes. “What does that mean?”

  It meant that Nick’s bad habit of helping people in need had bitten him in the ass.

  His offer to let a woman he’d been casually seeing stay “for a few days” had turned into a situation where the woman had become a clingy basket case and refused to move out. No matter that he’d broken up with her.

  Nick’s lease was up in another month, and though he didn’t love giving up the Lower East Side studio he’d lived in for years, letting the lease lapse and them both having to find a new place to live felt kinder than kicking her to the curb.

  He had a couple of weeks to figure it out, but moving in with Taylor would have its benefits. Moving in with another woman would make it finally clear to Jackie that they were really, truly done. Had never started, really.

  “Hello?” Taylor said impatiently.

  He let out a short laugh. “Hard to imagine why you’re having such a difficult time finding a roommate.”

  Nick meant the words as a casual barb—the type they specialized in exchanging. But there was an unexpected flash of pain on Taylor’s flawless face, telling him he’d inadvertently struck a nerve.

  Ah, shit.

  Both he and Taylor could dish it out like nobody’s business, but his parents had raised him better than to intentionally hurt a woman.

  However, Nick also knew her well enough to understand that if he offered an apology, she’d shred it with her talons and shove it up his ass, so he countered with something better than an apology.

  Something she needed, even if she didn’t yet realize it.

  Nick moved slightly closer to her, not enough to be inappropriate given their office surroundings but close enough to have her gaze go wary and for Nick to see Bradley tense up out of the corner of his eye, although the man didn’t say anything.

  It was all the confirmation he needed that his instincts were dead on.

  The thing between Bradley and Taylor had blown up. Otherwise, there’d be no way Bradley would even be letting them have this discussion, much less letting Nick this close to his woman.

  And the look on Taylor’s face told Nick that the breakup hadn’t been her idea. He nearly grinned. How that must have riled the perfectly in-control Ms. Carr.

  And how perfect for Nick.

  He knew a woman out for revenge when he saw one, and luckily for her, playing into her plan would work out quite nicely for him as well.

  Nick reached out and tapped his forefinger against the flyer on the fridge where she’d written her building’s address.

  “You live two blocks from the bar where I work. I’d be a fool not to consider it,” he said quietly.

  She rubbed her temples. “I already have enough going on in my life without adding in the effort of not getting arrested for killing you.”

  “Too much going on…like what, Carr, your thriving love life?”

  She hissed in outrage, but he held up a warning finger. Very subtly he nodded back toward Bradley.

  Think this through, he silently instructed Taylor.

  Calloway played right into Nick’s plan, choosing that moment to open his idiotic mouth.

  “Knock it off, Nick,” Bradley said. His voice was more that of a jealous lover than a protective colleague. “Taylor, you can’t seriously be considering this.”

  Nick kept his gaze trained on Taylor, waiting for the wisdom of his plan to click into place.

  He saw the moment it did, her eyes widening in comprehension. Knew the moment she realized that letting Nick move in would be the ultimate fuck you to Bradley.

  But then Nick saw something he didn’t expect—a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. A reluctance to use one person to play games with another.

  It hinted at a moral compass that Nick, quite frankly, hadn’t expected of her. Damn it. Damn it. He really, really did not need Taylor Carr to be good underneath that hotter-than-sin body.

  He considered backpedaling, but…he’d come this far.

  Besides, it could be kind of interesting. And he really did need a place to live.

  “Come on, Carr. Scared?” he taunted softly.

  She pursed her lips, an expression he knew she thought looked haughty but was really her tell for nervousness. “Of what?” she scoffed, after too long a pause.

  “You, me, all that close proximity. Might be hard to resist me.”

  She rolled her eyes, clearly recovered. “I think I can handle it.”

  His smile was victorious. “So. When can I move in?”

  “Hell no,” Bradley said angrily.

  Moron. It was the exact wrong thing to say to a woman like Taylor.

  Her jaw tensed, but she didn’t so much as look at Bradley as she held Nick’s gaze and gave him the answer he needed.

  “Be there Saturday, Ballantine. You can have the small bedroom.” She laid a manicured fingernail against his chest, pushing him backward as she said it.

  It was a casual touch—contemptuous, even. But his body tightened the second she made contact, instantly aware of her. Wanting her.

  She felt it too. He knew it by the way she hissed out a breath, the way she blinked too long, looking adorably off balance.

  Taylor snatched her hand back, glaring at him as though it was his fault they had physical chemistry beneath all the animosity.

  She recovered quickly and strutted past Nick—although careful not to touch him, he noticed.

  Both he and Bradley turned to watch her leave, tight ass displayed in an even tighter dress to sheer perfection.
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  Bradley made a growling noise at Nick, and Nick grinned, knowing that Bradley was thinking exactly the same thing that Nick was.

  At this rate, Nick might start out in the small bedroom.

  But he’d end up in hers.

  Finally.

  Chapter 4

  “I still can’t believe you and Nick Ballantine are shacking up.”

  Taylor winced as she took a sip of her iced tea. “Can you please not say it like that? You’ll ruin my appetite for a perfectly delicious club sandwich.”

  Brit Robbins reached across the table and stole one of Taylor’s french fries. “Well, what would you call it?”

  “Solving a problem,” Taylor said, taking an enormous bite of her sandwich.

  “Since when have you and Nick Ballantine in the same space been anything but the problem?” This from Daisy Sinclair, Taylor’s other lunch companion, and apparently not any less likely to let the whole roommate situation go than Brit, who, true to her promise on that very first day, had in fact become a best friend.

  Or at least Brit was Taylor’s best friend. Taylor was pretty sure that she and Hunter Cross were sharing the spot of BFF in Brit’s life, but at least the Oxford hottie was worthy company.

  Why Hunter and Brit didn’t just hook up already was a mystery to Taylor, but Brit swore up and down that he was just a friend, and Taylor let it be. And though Taylor thought they were perfect for each other, she spared her friend the whole you’re secretly in love with him lecture.

  That was Brit’s business to figure out.

  “She’s ignoring us,” Daisy said in a loud whisper as she joined Brit in stealing Taylor’s fries.

  Taylor countered their pilfering by reaching across the table and helping herself to some of Daisy’s grilled cheese.

  Daisy Sinclair was another of those rare women whom Taylor seemed to click with. The friendship was newer, so she didn’t know her quite as well as Brit, but Taylor adored her every bit as much.

  Daisy’s brother-in-law was Oxford’s editor in chief, and after relocating to New York, Daisy had taken a temp job as the office receptionist while the regular receptionist was on maternity leave.

  At least, that had been the official story.

  Unofficially, anyone could tell that fate (if you believed in that sort of thing, and Taylor mostly didn’t) had sent Daisy to Manhattan because she was the one and only woman who could wrangle the heart of the legendary Lincoln Mathis.

  Taylor took one last bite out of Daisy’s grilled cheese before narrowing her eyes at the pretty blonde whose wide, sweet brown eyes and good-girl dress disguised a wicked sense of humor.

  “I’ve decided this whole thing is your fault,” Taylor proclaimed, dropping the grilled cheese back on her friend’s plate.

  Daisy snorted. “How do you figure?”

  “If you’d fallen for Nick instead of Lincoln, then he’d be your problem to deal with.”

  Daisy rapped her knuckles against the side of her head. “I’m sure I’m hearing this wrong. Aren’t you the one who told me you’d unfriend me forever if I dated Nick?”

  “But you did date him,” Taylor said.

  “Eh,” Brit said as she munched a fry. “I think date’s a really strong word for whatever Nick and Daisy did.”

  Daisy nodded. “Super true. We went on maybe two lunches and one dinner. And I think Nick knew all along that I was just biding my time until Lincoln got his head out of his ass.”

  “I wish Bradley would get his head out of his ass,” Taylor said with an irritated sigh.

  Brit and Daisy exchanged a glance, and Taylor pointed at them both. “Spit it out.”

  Daisy blinked innocently. “Spit what out?”

  “You’ve both got something to say that you think I won’t like. Let’s hear it.”

  “Okay, fine,” Brit said, pushing her plate away and crossing her arms on the table. “But remember, Carr, you asked for it.”

  Taylor wiggled her fingers in a let’s have it gesture. She had no use for friends who danced around the truth, and both Daisy and Brit knew it.

  “About you and Bradley,” Brit said, her voice softening slightly. “We know you’re upset, but we can’t help but notice that you seem more annoyed about the breakup than sad.”

  Taylor blinked. “Of course I’m sad.”

  “I’m sure you’re hurting,” Daisy soothed in her slight southern drawl. “It’s just…if you’re hoping to get back with Bradley, this thing with Nick seems like it could backfire.”

  “You weren’t there,” Taylor said confidently at her friends’ words. “Bradley looked ready to explode over the thought of me and Nick living together.”

  “Just what everyone wants for their true love,” Brit muttered.

  “It worked for Daisy,” Taylor countered, feeling more defensive by the moment. “Daiz, you said yourself that Lincoln went alpha-hot on you when he thought you were hooking up with Nick.”

  “There’s a difference between going to dinner with Nick and moving in with Nick,” Daisy said. “And I actually like Nick. I wasn’t deliberately using him.”

  Taylor only stared at her friend. “You like Nick? How is that even possible?”

  “Gosh, hard to say,” Brit said as she began to count on her fingers. “Crazy hot, makes a really good cocktail, holds doors for women, looks equally good in jeans and a suit. And I know I’m not the only one who thinks his voice sounds like sex itself.”

  Daisy nodded enthusiastically. “It does. All low and gravelly, like he just got done doing really naughty things for a really long time.”

  “Keep up with this barf talk and I will repeat that word for word to Lincoln,” Taylor said, shoving her plate away.

  “The point is,” Daisy said, ignoring the threat, “your and Nick’s oil-and-water thing does not exactly bode well for your impending roomie status. I mean, you two are going to be sharing the same space as kitchen knives.”

  “So we’ll do our best to avoid each other,” Taylor said, waving this away. “The guy’s a part-time bartender—I’m sure our schedules will barely overlap. And besides, you guys are making this about Nick. Can we please talk about the guy who actually matters?”

  Her voice was just a touch testy, and her friends hesitated only a fraction of a second before nodding. “Of course,” Brit said, her voice gentler. “Have you talked to him at all since the breakup?”

  Taylor shrugged. “He’s still not answering my calls. Or my texts.” Then she groaned. “Oh my God, am I that girl? The one who keeps coming around and can’t take a hint?”

  “Tay. The guy broke up with you the day you were supposed to move in together.”

  Taylor could have sworn she heard Brit hide the word dick behind a cough.

  “You’re right to demand answers,” Daisy continued. “You deserve them.”

  “I’ll get them,” Taylor said decisively, smiling in thanks as their server cleared away plates. “He’ll come around.”

  “Oh, man,” Brit said with a laugh as she fished her credit card out of her wallet. “I bet Calloway’s gnashing his teeth at the thought of Nick getting to see you in those slinky little nightgowns you sleep in.”

  “I thought you didn’t like my plan,” Taylor said, dropping her credit card into the mix. “That I was using Nick.”

  “Nah, that’s Daisy’s stance,” Brit said, blowing a kiss at Daisy. “She’s better people than us. I happen to think it’s genius—providing, of course, that you and Nick don’t kill each other.”

  “And it’s temporary,” Taylor was quick to add. “Don’t forget temporary. Just long enough for Bradley to get his head out of his ass.”

  “So you agree it’s up there?” Brit asked curiously.

  “Oh, it’s firmly lodged where the sun doesn’t shine,” Taylor said, not feeling even the slightest bit guilty. She adored Bradley, but he was really starting to get on her nerves.

  It was bad enough to dump her in a letter, but she’d tried to understand. Hard co
nversations weren’t exactly her specialty either.

  But didn’t they owe it to each other to sit down and talk about what the heck had happened?

  What sort of man dated a co-worker, dumped her, and then refused to discuss it with her?

  Still, Taylor wasn’t giving up.

  He couldn’t avoid her forever.

  They worked together. And yes, all those warning labels that came with dating a co-worker were apparently absolutely warranted. She got now why everyone advised against workplace romances.

  Karen would be rolling in her grave if she knew Taylor had been so stupid.

  But the damage was done, and now Taylor was determined to make the situation work in her favor. All she needed to do was corner him with a work problem—and then shift the conversation to the personal.

  The man owed it to her to look her in the eye and explain.

  “You okay, sweetie?” Daisy asked, rubbing Taylor’s back as the three women stepped into the afternoon sunshine.

  “Never better,” Taylor said, linking arms with her two best girls and forcing a smile.

  “Really? Because you were just dumped less than a month ago, and you’re moving in with your mortal enemy,” Brit pointed out.

  Taylor laughed. “Sometimes I don’t know if you’re the best friend or the worst.”

  “For real, though, how are you so happy right now?” Brit pressed. “I’d be neck deep in wine or ice cream. Or both.”

  That’s because you weren’t raised by Karen Carr, Taylor thought.

  Her aunt hadn’t believed in breakdowns. Taylor wasn’t even sure she knew how to have one. She didn’t know how to deal with rejection with anything other than battle armor and a plan.

  And now plan B was firmly in play.

  She just wished she hadn’t been so stupid as to make the plan dependent on Nick Ballantine.

  Chapter 5

  “You’re not really moving out.”

  Nick pulled a piece of tape taut over the top of yet another box and fought the urge to ask his ex how the hell she translated the enormous pile of boxes as anything but him moving out.

  Instead he smiled and turned toward the doorway where she stood, moodily nursing a glass of chardonnay. “You’ll barely notice I’m gone.”