Fall in Love Book Bundle: Small Town Romance Box Set
Page 89
The Worst Guy — Sebastian Stremmel’s story ~ coming soon
The Walsh Series
Underneath It All – Matt and Lauren
The Space Between – Patrick and Andy
Necessary Restorations – Sam and Tiel
The Cornerstone – Shannon and Will
Restored — Sam and Tiel
The Spire — Erin and Nick
Preservation — Riley and Alexandra
Thresholds — The Walsh Family
Foundations — Matt and Lauren
Brothers in Arms Spinoff Standalones
Missing In Action — Wes and Tom
Coastal Elite — Jordan and April
Benchmarks Series
Professional Development — Drew and Tara
Orientation — Jory and Max
Get exclusive sneak previews of upcoming releases through Kate's newsletter and private reader group, The Canterbary Tales, on Facebook.
The Heartbreaker
Claire Contreras
"Addictive, sexy, and angsty, I read The Heartbreaker in one sitting. The sizzling chemistry between Jo and Jagger make this a must-read for romance fans!" - Samantha Young, New York Times Bestselling author
They say you never forget your first. Jagger Cruz, the popular, gorgeous, athletic, heartbreaker, was my introduction to college flings. Over the years, I’ve tried to pay no attention to every wicked rumor I heard about him, even though deep down I knew they weren’t just rumors.
Unable to face the consequences of what we’d done, if we were ever in close quarters, I ran in the other direction. If we were coincidentally put in the same class, I dropped it.
Avoidance was the name of the game and so far I was winning. That is, until we’re assigned the same co-ed apartment. Living with Jagger during my last semester was definitely not in my plans, but I’m determined to make it work. As long as I don’t look at him for too long or let his innuendos get under my skin, I should be fine, right? I have to be.
They say hooking up with your roommate can be messy, and losing my heart to Jagger would be disastrous.
The Heartbreaker is: 100% standalone, enemies-to-loverssports romanceroommates, F/M romance
Prologue
4 Years Ago
I walk into the frat house with my friend and teammate, Jill, at my side. My heart is beating so fast I can barely stand it. I don't know why I'm so nervous. I've been to a college party before, just not when I was actually in college. I look around, unable to take the smile off my face.
"I'm going to the bathroom. Meet me in the kitchen?" Jill says.
"Sure." I start walking in the direction where I assume the kitchen is and come to a full stop just before I get there.
There are a lot of guys in there. A lot. Like too many for me to just waltz in and be all cool without also being insanely awkward. One simply cannot be both, and it is a choice we make. Like right now, if I decide that I am cooler than I am, no one will think to question it. I know this because I've studied the art of cool from effortlessly cool people. Still, as I stand there, palms sweaty, I feel like I may need ten more minutes to give myself this pep talk. One of the guys laughs loudly, throwing his head back with it. He's blond and has a summer vacation tan, with a pink neck and cheeks. He's hot. Like really hot. In front of him, with his back facing me, is a guy with impeccable crisped golden skin. He's wearing a black t-shirt, jeans, and a blacked-out Yankees ball cap that faces my direction, strands of his longish hair tucked beneath it. Blondie may be hot as hell, but he has nothing on this guy. I haven't even seen his face, and I already know it. Then, he turns around as if feeling my eyes on him. He's mid-sentence, his straight white teeth showing as he speaks, and then he completely stops talking, and my heart completely stops beating when those toffee-colored eyes hit mine.
"Josephine?" He frowns, then smiles. "Josephine! Holy shit."
Jagger Cruz.
Holy shit.
Jagger Cruz, who's cool in an effortless, I own-my-shit kind of way. He's always been hot, but now that he's grown into his skin, he's . . . beyond.
"I didn't know you were here," I say stupidly. "I mean, mom mentioned you were coming to UNC like Mitch, but I didn't know you were here already."
"Yeah. I went by the house the other day, but you weren't there." He's grinning, eyeing me up and down, openly checking me out. My skin prickles. This is entirely too nerve-racking for me.
"I live on campus," I say. "With a roommate."
"Ah, I thought you'd stay at home since you're so close."
"I want the college experience." I smile.
"I hear that." He glances around, says bye to some of the guys he was talking to as they pass by, and fist bumps him.
"You're not going to introduce me to your friend?" Blondie looks at me, then at Jagger, whose perfect jaw twitches just a bit but manages to smile at his friend.
"Sure. Josephine, this is Lawrence. Lawrence, this is Josephine."
"Hi." I smile, feeling my cheeks turn pinker than they already are. He looks like an Abercrombie model. They both do.
"Josephine. I like that." Lawrence winks. "I hope to see you around."
"Uh, yeah. Sure. Me too." I wave as he walks away and looks back at Jagger. "College parties, am I right?"
"Right." He's quiet for a moment, his eyes assessing me. "You want a drink?"
"Sure." I shrug a shoulder and follow him.
"What's your poison?" He glances over at me when we make it to a foldable table with many bottles on it.
"I think I'll go with the tequila."
"Tequila." He raises an eyebrow. "Ballsy."
"It's the only thing that doesn't give me a massive hangover."
"Said no one ever," he says with a chuckle that hits me right in the chest.
He starts pouring it for me the way I tell him I want it – on the rocks, with a wedge of lime. Fancy shit for a college party, but this is only my second college party, so I haven't gotten the memo on what to drink. Also, I barely drink, so I'm just having what my dad normally has. Lame. So lame, but I can't exactly act like I don't know what I'm doing in front of Jagger Cruz, who always seems to know what he's doing.
"Hey, Jagger," a girl says, smiling as she walks over with two friends in tow.
"Hey," he says, grinning at her as he finishes pouring our drinks and hands mine over to me.
I thank him and fish out my phone to check on Jill while he talks to the group of girls. They're cheerleaders, and since he's on the football team, they have a lot to talk about.
Me: where are you?
Jill: in the living room. Talking to Reid. Where are you? I saw you with a hot guy and didn't want to cock block
Me: I just got a drink
Jill: With the hot guy?
Me: he's a family friend, and yes
Jill: *fire emoji*
Me: LOL
Jill: I'm going to hang out with Reid unless you want company
Me: I'm good
Jill: Check in with you in an hour?
Me: Ok
I put my phone away and look up as I sip my tequila. I would join the conversation, but honestly, I don't want to and the girls haven't so much as glanced at me.
"Text me," the original one says, winking at Jagger as she walks away.
Jagger doesn't say anything. He just turns back to me.
"Such a ladies' man," I say.
"A gift and a curse." He sips his drink. "How's your drink?"
"Strong."
"Well, you did request tequila on the rocks."
"It's good, though. Refreshing."
"Hm."
"What are you drinking?"
"Same thing as you." He shrugs. "I figured I should try it."
"And?"
"It's all right."
"Just all right?" I laugh.
"I'm not much of a drinker, so I feel like this is going to knock me on my ass."
"Same." I take another sip.
"I never thought I'd see the da
y Josephine Canó would be trying to get drunk at a party."
"I guess . . . I guess I figure it'll help give me a little bit of courage, you know?"
"Courage for what?"
"To talk to guys and stuff."
He chuckles, shaking his head. "Every guy who's walked by has checked you out. I don't think you need any kind of courage."
"They haven't talked to me." I feel myself frown.
"Because you're with me." He winks. "I've been giving off she's mine vibe."
"Oh." My heart slams into my chest. I swallow. "Do you . . . " I pause and lick my lips. "Do you want me to be yours? For the night, I mean."
"Are you offering?"
"Maybe." I take another sip of the tequila.
Jagger grins. It's a slow grin that transforms his already gorgeous face into something even hotter, and suddenly, I feel like there isn't enough air in this room.
"So, what are you studying?" he asks after a moment.
"Public Health."
"Nice."
"Nice or boring?" I bite my lip, and when his eyes drop to my mouth, I feel myself blush furiously. "Your mouth is saying nice, but your eyes are saying boring."
"Nothing about you is boring." His gaze darkens as he says the words and takes a step forward.
I'm well aware that we're in a loud, crowded party, but at this moment, when Jagger is looking at me like he wants to devour me, it's as if the world disappears. For so long, too long, I've been Good Girl Josephine. The one who doesn't go home past curfew and doesn't date the wrong boy. My sister, who's only a year younger than me, has always tried to get me to rebel a little, and while I cover for her when she decides to stay out later, it's just not in me to push buttons.
I take a deep breath and then another and do something I've only dreamed of. I take one step closer to Jagger, watching the way his gaze blazes as I put a hand on his hard chest and kiss him. It's a quick kiss. A peck. Jagger blinks, surprised when I pull away. His eyes search mine for a moment, just long enough to convince himself of what to do next. He takes our cups, sets them down, and grabs my hand, leading me to the back of the room and then up the stairs. Once we're there, standing in the hall, where there are doors open and closed, and the music is still loud but not as loud as downstairs, he turns to me. My heart is beating so hard, so fast, I'm not sure what to do with it.
"I thought it would be quieter up here," he says after a moment, glancing toward the stairs. "I guess not."
"And here I was thinking you were leading me to a bedroom." I tilt my head slightly. Jagger's eyes widen as he looks at me again.
"Do you want me to lead you to a bedroom?"
"I wouldn't have followed you up here if I didn't."
He grazes his lower lip with his perfect teeth as he studies me, and my heart flips. Even though I grew up around him, seeing him tonight feels like meeting him for the first time. Maybe it's the ambiance or the fact that our parents and siblings aren't sitting steps away from us for the first time. Maybe it's that while I have always been attracted to him, I've never been as attracted to him as I am at this moment. Whatever the case, I vow to let tonight goes wherever my body wants it to go. I'm not going to talk myself out of anything. I'm not going to reprimand myself for being too forward.
"My offer stands, you know," I say, "About being yours for the night."
"Jesus." He huffs out a laugh, raking a hand through his perfect, thick waves.
For a moment, I'm not sure what to think, and I settle on the insecurity that maybe I came off too strong and he doesn't know how to let me down easily. Or maybe he thinks this is crazy since our families go way back. My thoughts come to a halt when he takes a step closer to me. He brings a hand up and clasps the back of my neck, pulling me toward him. My heart stops beating as our lips meet in the softest kiss. My lips part when his tongue touches the seam of my mouth and I gasp against him when it meets my tongue, dancing to a beat of a sensual song I've never quite felt before. His hand cups my breast over my shirt and I groan, feeling that action between my legs. I pull away, breaking the kiss, vision spotty as I look up at him.
"Do you . . . can we go to a room?"
He bites his lip and pulls me into the room behind him, shutting the door and locking it. It's a guy's room, but the bed is perfectly made, and it looks more organized than my room has ever been. It's weird and surprising. He lets me look around for a second before he's on me again, his lips on my neck, sucking as he explores. I shut my eyes and throw my head back, gripping his t-shirt tightly for a second before tucking my hands underneath his shirt and running my fingers along with his rock-hard abs. He brings his mouth to mine again and kisses me like he's dreamed of this moment. I wonder, for a moment, if I should tell him that I'm a virgin. I decide against it. It's not like I have an STD that I need to disclose. On that note, when he pulls back from the kiss and begins to undress me, I shut my brain off and go with it.
Chapter 1
Jo
“Josephine.” My father’s voice roars through his private practice.
“Uh-oh,” Donna says, shooting me a sympathetic glance. “Better leave that broom right where it is and go find out what he’s hollerin’ about.”
“Or I can leave out the back door and you can tell him I had an emergency.” I shoot her a wide grin.
“Right.” Donna huffs out a laugh. “One of us actually needs to keep this job.”
“You’ve been working for him for twenty years. I think if anyone’s job is in jeopardy, it’s mine.” I try pouting my lip, but Donna simply smiles.
I grab the broom, take a deep breath, and head in the direction of my father’s office. It’s slightly open when I reach it, and he’s going over paperwork on his desk. I keep my eyes on the gold plaque on his desk that reads Dr. Henry Canó just for a second before I make myself look at him.
“You called?”
“You dropped Finite Math?” He raises his brown eyes to mine. “Why on earth would you do that? Do you want to stay in school forever? Is that it?”
“No.” I bite my lip, looking down at the floor.
“You’re already on thin ice. You do know that, right?”
I nod, staying quiet, mostly because the knot in my throat won’t let me get words out, and also because I’ve learned that when speaking to my parents sometimes the best thing to do is not speak at all. My silence is what they want anyway. That way they can have the satisfaction of ridding themselves of all of their accusations.
“What class did you pick up?”
“None yet,” I mumble.
“I cannot hear you or see your eyes,” Dad snaps.
“None yet.” I raise my eyes to his and straighten my posture. “I was going to take college algebra, but the class is full.”
“Why’d you drop this one?” he asks again. This time, I don’t even bother with excuses, even if any excuse I come up with would certainly be more credible than the reality.
“There’s a boy in the class that I would rather avoid.” I bite my lip as my father’s eyes turn from fury to incredible as he stares at me. I do my best not to flinch as I wait for the onslaught of words, but they never come.
“Come here.” He sighs deeply and shakes his head. I walk over to his desk tentatively, dragging the broom behind me. He turns his chair toward me. “Is it Lawrence?”
“No.” My face pulls. “Lawrence and I are over and he goes to Duke, remember?”
Even as I say this, dad’s face pinches into a disgusted look. My parents are hardcore UNC alumni, so when I met and started dating Lawrence, Duke’s star quarterback, they both had a lot to say, all in good fun, of course, though times like these, when dad lets his feelings on the matter show, are more telling than any joke he’d ever make.
“So this is just some random boy?” Dad asks with a laugh. “You were with Lawrence for what, two and a half years?”
“Yes.” I swallow. Closer to three, but I’d rather not go there. “And yes, we still hate him.”
&n
bsp; “We absolutely do.” Dad smiles. “If he’d been in that classroom, would you have dropped it?”
“No.” I scowl. “Eff that guy.”
Dad chuckles. “You see where I’m going with this, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Is this boy bullying you?”
“No.” I scoff. “Come on, Dad.”
“So what are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid.” My scowl deepens. “I would just rather avoid him is all.”
“Listen,” Dad starts with an exhale. “I am not going to tell you I understand this situation because you’re giving me very little to go on, but this boy isn’t worth you having to stay in college an extra semester. You have to see that.”
“I do.”
“Get back in that class.” He taps his mouse and the school website appears on the screen. I close my eyes momentarily and log into my account, picking up Finite Math once more.
“For the record, I hate math,” I grumble.
“Trust me, the last three years have proven math hates you more than you hate it.” He glances over at me, amusement in his expression.
“Funny, Dad.” I exit out of my account and take a step back as Dad laughs. “Does this mean I can stop cleaning the practice after hours?”
“Do you think you’ve earned enough hours to pay for the Maserati you crashed?”
“No.” My shoulders slump.
“Are you still dead set on moving into that house instead of just moving back in with me and Mom?”
“No offense, Dad, but I hope I never have to live with you and Mom ever again.” I smile at the look on his face. “Besides, I don’t want to drive forty minutes to and from school.”
“Right.”
“Do you need any help filing those papers?” I nod toward his desk.
“Nah. Let Donna do the filing. I have to be in the OR at seven in the morning, so I’m going over the procedure one last time.” He stands up and walks over to me. “See you Sunday?”