Breaking Defenses

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Breaking Defenses Page 5

by JB Salsbury


  The truck smells like cologne and leather and he wasn’t kidding, it has to be eighty degrees in here.

  “Next stop, Bean Madness.” He throws the truck into drive with a grin.

  I yawn. “You’ve clearly already had your coffee.”

  “I have. My instructions were to be up and caffeinated by three so that, and I quote, I don’t ‘fall asleep at the wheel and fuck up Rowan’s morning’.”

  Talk about a shot of adrenaline, he really said that about me? Who needs coffee when I’ve got Carey’s overprotectiveness to wake me up?

  “I…don’t know what to say.”

  “No need to say anything. I’m happy to help Carey out. He’s kind of my mentor. I’m a freshman, third-string running back and he’s been helping a lot with my training. I’d do whatever he asked me to do, I owe him a lot.”

  Carey, taking a young football player under his wing to mentor him doesn’t sound anything like the same guy I knew from high school. Young Carey Slade was a rich, arrogant, entitled football star. A high school hero who had at least a dozen girls hanging on him at any given time, none of them important enough to remember their names. And yet, he remembered mine.

  Although, I really didn’t know him personally back then. Maybe he has always been a nice guy and I just never gave him the benefit of the doubt. Not that he ever gave me a reason to, he didn’t acknowledge my existence until the Great Calculus Final Fail our senior year. I never should’ve given him my lucky pencil.

  “So, where are you from?” Mac asks with polite curiosity.

  “Las Vegas.”

  He eyes me with lifted brows. “Ahh so that’s how you know Carey.”

  “We went to school together.” Not that he knew who I was back then.

  “So you know his dad, Jonah Slade?”

  “I know of him, sure. The whole state does. He’s kind of a legend.” And all anyone could ever talk about. I never got the sense that it bothered Carey that he had a famous dad, but he never talked about it much or name dropped that I knew of. I always respected that about him. He could’ve used his famous last name in a million different ways. I would have.

  “Where are you from? Your accent is…” Kind of sexy. “Unique.”

  “Tennessee. And I don’t have an accent, you do.” He winks and I feel my cheeks heat a little.

  I could be wrong, Lord knows I don’t have a lot of experience with men, but it feels like he’s flirting with me.

  I assure myself I’m just tired and reading too much into his kindness.

  We pull up to the coffee shop minutes later and he stops right in front of the door to let me out. “Well, Rowan Campbell, it’s been an honor getting you to work this morning.”

  My face gets hot again, but I try to hide it by ducking my head and hurrying out of the truck. “That ride was much more pleasant than taking the bus, so thank you.”

  “Anytime.”

  I’m about to close the door when he calls my name. “Yeah?”

  “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

  I bite my lips to keep from smiling because he really sounds like he’d like to see me again. I wonder how old he is? “I’d like that.” Although the chances are slim. Athletes stick to their side of campus.

  “Me too.”

  I close the door and turn to open up the coffee shop, a smile on my face and butterflies swarming my belly.

  Carey

  “My sorority sister said she saw you at Keegan’s last weekend after the game.”

  Amber. No, Lynn. Amberlynn? Fuck, I can’t remember her name, but I do remember a heated make out session in the hallway of my house during a party two months ago. It never went further than second base because I don’t bring girls into my bed. A lesson my dad taught me when we did the whole birds and the bees thing.

  “Your bedroom is a sacred place meant for intimacy between you and the woman you end up marrying who will carry your children. Be careful who you bring into your bed before you’re ready.”

  I was thirteen when he told me that and ever since I imagined having sex with a woman in my bed was giving her permission to leave her mark behind. When I picture laying down the woman I fall in love with in a bed where other woman have left their mark, well, it makes me sick.

  Amberlynn assured me we could go to her place, and I almost said yes, but even after a few beers I noticed a desperation in her tone, the way her hands gripped my arm the rest of the night, something that triggered all the warning bells that this woman was not a no-strings sex kind of girl. She was out for a commitment. I sent her home, and she’s managed to hunt me down occasionally ever since.

  The sun is out, but the breeze is cool and tosses her long brown hair around her tight-sweatered chest. I’m surprised she’s even still on campus since most everyone has left for Christmas, but when I strode up to the library doors she was there waiting.

  “I was at Keegans.” I hike my backpack higher onto my shoulder and do a quick scan hoping to see Rowan so she can save me from Amberlynn’s accusatory eyes.

  She tilts her head as if trying to be cute, but her shaky smile and the fire behind her eyes gives her away. “You were? So it’s true you’re dating Callie Brower?”

  “No, I’m not dating anyone.”

  “You left with Callie though.”

  I sigh and drop my head back praying for patience. “Yes.”

  Her arched brows pinch together. “Callie’s my sorority sister.”

  “I didn’t know that.” Nor do I care.

  “You said you didn’t want to come home with me because I lived in a sorority house and it wasn’t private enough, but you went home, to my home, with Callie?”

  I open my mouth to defend myself, but I have no defense. She’s right, I did say that, mostly to avoid exactly what I’m dealing with right now. “Listen, A—” I don’t want to get her name wrong so I avoid it all together. “I uh…I’m sorry if my hooking up with Callie hurt you.” That’s the best I can do. After all, it’s really none of her concern who I fuck or where. “You and I kissed, and it was great, but—”

  “Kissed? We kissed? You had your mouth on my nip—”

  “Hey!”

  I turn to Rowan just as she scurries up beside us. She’s wearing her Bean Madness hoodie and the most radiant smile I’ve seen on her since…ever. She’s double fisting white coffee cups with the Bean Madness logo on the side. “Am I late?”

  “No, you’re right on time,” I say through a smile.

  She looks at Amberlynn who glowers at her. “Hi, I’m Rowan.”

  Amberlynn turns her glare on me, asking for an introduction.

  Fuck. Okay, shit. “Um…Rowan, this is…a friend…uh.”

  “Oh my God, you forgot my name!” The woman shrieks and I groan at how shitty I must look in front of Rowan.

  “I know your name, it’s Amberlynn, right?”

  Her entire expression turns cold. “Amberlynn is my roommate, asshole.”

  “Shit,” I mumble and rub my forehead. “Yeah, I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”

  She puffs out her full Cs and cocks her head toward Rowan. “Good luck with this gem,” she says sarcastically. “And by gem I mean piece-of-shit-asshole.” She stomps off in a huff.

  “Wow.” Rowan hands me one of the coffees. “She really doesn’t like you.”

  I hold up the cup. “You brought me a drink?”

  Her auburn hair is pulled back in a tight bun and I’d do anything to reach around her and pull it free just to watch the different shades of brown and red dance in the sunlight with the breeze. What the fuck?

  “Low carb gingerbread spice latte with almond milk,” she says proudly.

  I take a sip and damn, it tastes like she smells—sweet, savory, and delicious. “So good.”

  “It’s the least I can do for your excellent car service,” she says with a smile and slight blush.

  I bump her with my shoulder. “You liked that, huh?”

  She sighs. “I did.”
/>   We head into the library side-by-side and I lean down close to her ear. “I told you accepting my help wouldn’t be so bad.”

  “You were right.” She heads over to the dude manning the front desk and hands him the other coffee. They share a few whispered words and when she turns away I don’t miss the way his eyes stay glued to her ass.

  I glare at him until he feels it and when his eyes snap to mine he spins around in his desk chair so fast he knocks a stack of books to the floor.

  “Friend of yours,” I grumble as we climb up the four flights of stairs to the study room level.

  “Marcus is the reason we always get the best study room. He reserves it for me and I bring him coffee in return.”

  I snort. “You don’t need to keep bringing him coffee, he’d do anything you asked him to.”

  She chuckles. “I doubt that.”

  Oh innocent, clueless, Rowan. “He wants to fuck you.”

  She stops climbing and I stop a few steps above her. Looking down at her surprised expression, her lips part to accommodate her heavy breath, she looks smaller and more fragile than usual. “No he does not.”

  I throw my head back and laugh. “You can’t possibly be that clueless.” I shove my finger in the direction of the desk. “I watched him with my own eyes stare at your ass like he wanted to take two handfuls and a bite.”

  “Ew.”

  “God, Rowan.” I turn around and start up the stairs again. “I know you’re a smart girl, but you’re clueless with it comes to men.”

  The sound of her off brand athletic shoes pounds the stairs behind me as she catches up. “Why are you so mad?”

  Isn’t that the million fucking dollar question? “I’m not,” I spit through clenched teeth.

  “I may be clueless when it comes to men, but if your interaction with Annalise out front is anything to go by you’re just as clueless about women.”

  Those words stop me in my tracks and I whirl around on her on the fourth-floor landing. She skids to a halt to keep from running into me.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Forgetting her name? Treating her like she’s as memorable as last month’s news? You’re better than that.” She storms by me in the direction of our corner room.

  I follow after her, talking to the back of her head. “For your information, I hardly touched that girl and she’s been stalking me ever since. How is that my fault?” I toss my backpack onto the table. “And how the fuck do you know her name?”

  She drops her bag and stares at me with a straight spine and firm jaw. “I was in her small group at Freshman orientation. I didn’t even have my tongue in her mouth and I remember her name.”

  “Okay, so what? I’m an insensitive prick. Fine. Can we get to studying now please? I have my team meeting in an hour and a half.”

  “Fine. Let’s pick up where we left off yesterday.”

  Rowan and I work through problems and she gives me a mock-final. When I complete it our time is almost up and I hand her the paper.

  She shoves it into her binder. “I’ll grade your test on the bus home and when you come to work on my car I’ll give it back to you.”

  “You’re not taking the bus home.” I’ve calmed a little since our earlier discussion. Rowan is right, I don’t know much about women outside of how to give them mind blowing orgasms and I do know they appreciate a man who remembers their name. She wins. I’m a dick.

  “No? Is Levi taking me?”

  There is way too much anticipation in her voice at the mention of McCallister. And fuck me, but her blush is back.

  “You like Levi?” Since when did he start going by his name? He’s been Mac since I’ve known him.

  She shrugs and avoids my eyes. “What’s not to like?”

  Dammit to hell, why didn’t I consider this might happen?

  “Do you want my list categorized by importance or alphabetical?”

  “Oh,” she frowns. “Really, that many, huh?”

  “He cries for his mom when he’s sick, he never replaces the empty toilet paper roll, and he parks in handicap spots when he’s in a hurry.”

  She recoils. “I don’t believe any of that.”

  I made it all up because I hate the way her face lights up when she talks about him.

  She shrugs. “Everyone has flaws, it’s just a matter of finding the right person who has the kind of flaws you can live with.”

  “And what kind of flaws can you live with?”

  She seems surprised by my question. “I…I don’t know, I guess it depends on the person.”

  I zip up my bag and throw it over my shoulder. My phone buzzes in my pocket, a text from one of my roommates telling me Rowan’s new starter was just delivered. Is it possible for a woman like Rowan to accept my biggest flaw? I’m the guy who screwed her over in high school, but makes up for it by fixing her car?

  We head out together and I notice after she waves goodbye to the kid at the front desk, she turns around to find him checking out her ass just as I said he did.

  Catching him in the act causes her to stumble. I hook her around the shoulder to steady her and I make sure the pervy asshole sees me do it. Is my physical show of claiming her immature and caveman-like? Yes. Do I care? Fuck no.

  Once we’re outside I spot Ollie immediately as he hops up from the bench and comes our way.

  “Ollie, this is Rowan.” I make introductions with my arm still firmly planted around the woman’s shoulders. “Ollie’s a freshman on the team.”

  “Oh, so you play with Levi.” She seems way too happy to have made the connection further grinding my gears.

  “I do.” Ollie grins at Rowan and his blue eyes practically sparkle as he takes in her pouty lips and tight shirt. My glare sharpens and when he spots it he takes a step back and keeps his eyes on her forehead. Smart kid. “I left my car in the drop off zone so you wouldn’t have to walk all the way to the lot.”

  She looks up at me with awe and appreciation and aims the same look at Ollie. “That was thoughtful of you.”

  She pulls away to follow Ollie to his car, but I refuse to release her or move because this is where I have to say goodbye. Ollie looks back, confused as to why she’s not following him.

  “She’ll be there in a minute,” I say, giving him permission to get the fuck gone for a second. What is it about this woman that makes me want to crush every other man in her vicinity?

  “You didn’t have to arrange rides for me,” she says and I allow her to duck out from under my arm even though I immediately miss her tucked in close.

  “Told you I would.”

  Her eyebrows drop. “Are you okay? Are you still upset about our conversation earlier?”

  I roll my head around on my shoulders and give myself a mental pep talk to calm the fuck down. The only thing I’m upset about is the weird shit stirring up in my chest that I can’t name or explain. “I’m fine. I’ll be over after my meeting.”

  She worries her hands together and shifts from foot to foot. “Are we, I mean, do you still want me to cook dinner? Because if not that’s totally okay and I can figure out another way to repay you like I should just pay you so that’s fine…” The words tumble out of her mouth, one on the tail of the other.

  I’m totally screwing this up. She thinks I’m upset with her.

  I snag her by her backpack straps and pull her to my chest, doing what I’ve wanted to do for days now, I wrap both my arms around her tiny body and rest my chin on her head. “Yes. We’re absolutely on for you making dinner at my place.”

  She doesn’t hug me back, but keeps her arms tucked between our bodies as if she’s trying to protect herself from me. That’ll have to change.

  A campus security guard approaches Ollies’s waiting Charger and he motions to Rowan.

  “I gotta run.” I release her and walk backwards a couple steps. “Later, Ro.”

  “Later,” she says and I don’t miss the breathy tone in her voice.

  I gi
ve her my back before I smile triumphantly.

  She may grin and blush at the mention of Mac, but she goes weak around me.

  I’ll take that as a win.

  Chapter Six

  Rowan

  After Ollie dropped me off at home I graded Carey’s paper impressed with how well he’s picking up the difficult concepts in such a short amount of time. He still needs a little help with the break-even point ratio formula, but that should only take a day. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve so we’ll need to discuss a new place to meet for our final session, his final retake is the day after Christmas, and if he passes he’ll be able to play and my work with him will be complete.

  The victory is bittersweet, because after our sessions are over there will be no reason for us to see each other again. Unless Levi is interested in hanging out, him and Carey are roommates after all.

  Which reminds me, I need to pull out my most presentable outfit for tonight.

  I stayed up all night searching the Internet for the best menu for tonight’s dinner. One that says thank you but is hearty enough to fill the belly of a man who never seems to get enough food. Then there’s also the tiny issue of my budget. Having to take the last two days off from cleaning houses because of my inoperative car, I’ve lost over one hundred dollars which means I only have forty-five dollars to spend on tonight’s dinner.

  I decide on chicken fettuccine with my homemade alfredo sauce and a quick Caesar salad. I hope he’s not expecting wine, but I might be able to spring for some sparkling water.

  Carey texted to let me know his meeting was over and that he was on his way. While I wait I search my dresser for my least worn out, semi dressy, but not too dressy, outfit. Cut off shorts, leggings, more t-shirts than I can count, none of this will do. I reach into the very back of my drawer and find a skirt. The one and only skirt I own, a simple black A-line that’s a little too short, but I won’t have to be bending over while I’m making dinner so I should be safe. I pair the skirt with a white cable knit sweater that has a tiny hole under the arm and a pair of black flats. That’ll have to do. I set the outfit aside along with my scribbled grocery list when I hear the burly engine of Carey’s truck pull into the driveway.

 

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