She rolled her green eyes. “How you can be startled in the middle of a busy store in broad daylight is beyond me.”
“Don’t judge me . . . I have keen senses.” I smiled up at her, tucking a thick lock of hair behind my ear as I looked back down.
She laughed lightly. “Whatever you want to call it.” She knocked into my side. “Come on, let’s get some coffee. I thought I’d pass out or possibly die of boredom in my economics class. I need caffeine, and now.”
We headed to the counter, Indy in front of me. She ordered her usual, and I stepped up after her and did the same.
Waiting for our drinks, we spent a couple of minutes chatting about nothing, the two of us almost feeling normal as we caught up on things that really didn’t matter. For a moment it felt like things were back to the way they had been before our lives were upended by two guys who hadn’t deserved either of us, two people who didn’t think twice about breaking a heart or fracturing someone’s spirit.
“Indy,” the barista called, pushing the paper cup in her direction.
“Oh yes . . . gimme, gimme, gimme.” Indy grabbed her coffee and winked at me as she backed away. “I’ll find us a place to sit.”
“I’ll find you,” I called as she disappeared into the fray.
I stayed in the mass of people milling around waiting for their drinks, turned to study my shifting feet while I listened for my name.
“Misha.”
I stepped up and stretched my hand out for my cup when another darted over my shoulder. A big hand wrapped around my cup and snagged it from the counter.
What in the . . . ?
“H-h-hey, that’s mi—” I started to say as I whirled around. I stopped short when I met with the hazel eyes smirking back at me.
Redness rushed to my face.
Oh, who was I kidding? Every inch of my skin lit up like a chili pepper, flaming and burning and shouting out all my insecurities.
Damn him.
I’d managed to dodge him for the last week, peeking out the window to make sure the coast was clear before I rushed out the door and down the sidewalk. The last thing I needed was another awkward exchange like he’d somehow dragged me into last week. I didn’t need to be scrutinized and teased, and I sure didn’t need to find out just how far this guy’s jerk-off ways went.
Of course my belly had a whole different idea about the situation, all those butterflies doing a little choreographed happy dance when my eyes fell on the glorious display standing just inches away from me.
Glorious?
Ugh.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
I couldn’t stand this guy, couldn’t stand the way he tugged and twisted at me like he had some magnetic pull, spinning me up, no doubt with the intention of spitting me out.
“Hey yourself,” he said, holding on to my cup like he had an inherent right to it.
This time I couldn’t help stamping my foot, indignant. What a jerk. “That’s mine,” I said, hating that it came out sounding all petulant again. “It says so right there.” I pointed to the Misha scrawled messily along the side of the cup, rocking back on my heels as I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Obviously.” His brow shot up with the sarcasm, before he lifted my cup to his nose and sniffed. “God . . . what are you drinking? A gallon of sugar? This isn’t coffee. This is a liquid candy bar.”
“It’s none of your business what I’m drinking.” So there, I added in my head, fighting the urge to stick my tongue out at him.
He drove me crazy, made me feel like a little girl fighting with a bully who’d stolen my favorite toy.
I’d dealt with enough bullies in my life.
He chuckled and rubbed his chin. I got locked on the movement of his fingers, my mouth falling slightly agape as he tugged and scratched at the stubble on his jaw. He was so close, and I could feel myself getting sucked in his direction, that aroma that had assaulted me the other day stronger, but this time it was all man and soap and sex—all Darryn Wild. I trembled. Oh God.
Catching me, he smirked.
Damn him.
Why did he have to be so beautiful?
“Give it,” I demanded, just wanting to get my coffee so I could get the heck away from him.
“Darryn,” the girl behind the counter called. He turned away from me. Seeing his face caught her off guard, and her eyes widened with appreciation as she stood there and blatantly devoured him with her gaze. Apparently no one was immune to him. He didn’t even spare her a second’s glance. He snatched up his coffee, holding both cups tucked up close to the strength of his chest.
“Are you going to give me my coffee or do I have to buy another one?” I said in surrender, giving up his game because I didn’t have the will to play it.
He blinked back at me like I was crazy. “Of course I’m going to give you back your coffee. I was just being the gentleman like I am and was going to carry it to our table for you.”
I felt the disbelief take over my expression. A gentleman? Yeah, right. Then the rest of what he’d said sank in. “Our table?” I asked, a challenge bleeding into the words.
“Our table,” he deadpanned. Those hazel eyes did that shimmer thing again, where they danced and sang with mischief, all jubilant mayhem on my erratic heart.
“You wouldn’t even shake my hand last week. Now you owe me.”
My chin lifted in defiance. “You’re insane,” I said.
“And you”—he handed me my coffee, before he reached up and plucked at my bottom lip with the pad of his index finger—“hurt my feelings.”
And I knew it was all just a ploy, this boy-man-god or whatever he was manipulating me, my flesh so easily turned to putty, aching for him to take those big hands and mold me into whatever he wanted me to be.
Those alarms started ringing like loud, clashing cymbals struck right near my ears, the off-key chorus hosted by the betrayal that had changed something intrinsic inside me.
Part of me wanted to give in to what it was Darryn was making me feel. But that was the problem. Because if I was honest with myself, what he made me feel most was scared. The feelings of desire he awoke in me just reminded me of how vulnerable and foolish I’d been in Hunter’s deceptive hands. I didn’t want to be that girl anymore. I wanted to be stronger and smarter and wiser.
“I seriously doubt that, Darryn Wild, because guys like you don’t have feelings.”
But as soon as the words were out, I realized one thing I hated more than sounding naive was sounding like a bitch.
Anger scored me deep. Hunter. I hated him most of all. He’d done this to me and made me this way.
For a split second Darryn’s face transformed, flashing with something that looked like pain, shutters dimming the mischief in his eyes. Then he slowly nodded through a forced smirk. Again, he tapped the side of my mouth, a reminder of the effect he knew he had on me. “I guess we don’t, do we?”
He backed away, left me watching him as he spun around and pushed his way through the coffee shop toward the exit.
On a heavy sigh, I turned and plodded to where Indy waited for me. I slumped down in the plush chair next to her.
“Oh. My. God. Was that our new neighbor you were talking to?”
I scrunched up my nose, shifted to tuck my leg under me, and let my hair fall down the side of my face to block Darryn’s view.
“Yes.” My whisper was all scratchy and self-conscious.
“Holy hell. I only saw him from a distance when he was moving in. I thought he was pretty then. . . .” She trailed off suggestively. Her eyebrows disappeared under her bangs. “Looks like he’s into you.”
I huffed. “All I need is another beautiful jerk to take advantage of me. No, thank you.”
Of course I was the one feeling like a jerk after what I said to him.
But judging by the effect Darryn had on me, I was pretty sure he was much more dangerous than Hunter ever was.
Hazardous to my health.
Awareness tug
ged at me, that same feeling from last week, the weight of his presence strong and unyielding. Helpless, I let my attention travel where it was led—where he stood facing me with his back leaned up against the door. A small smile curved his lips, something that almost appeared regretful, something true and soft, and for the first time I thought I saw something real in Darryn Wild. Then he flipped that asshole switch, and a wide, cocky grin blotted out all traces of anything sweet. He shot me this wicked, unruly wink before he backed out of the shop, dipping his head as he hit the sidewalk. I just stared as the door fell closed behind him.
My heart all of a sudden decided to agree with my stomach and indulged in a little flip-flop in rhythm with the patter of quick, uneven beats in my chest. That presence that felt too overbearing, too overwhelming and heavy and intense, was suddenly gone, leaving a void in its place.
Scratch that. The guy was lethal.
Deadly.
I planted my face into my palms, frantic as I shook my head in them.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
“Oh, Misha, don’t fool yourself. Hunter has nothing on Darryn Wild.” Hunter dropped from Indy’s mouth like a vulgar word.
I agreed on all accounts.
She giggled, sipped at her coffee, her voice all a tease as she sang, “Someone is crushing hard on the boy next door.”
My chest heated above my heart, splashing crimson all over my skin.
I wasn’t, was I? Not after everything I’d been through. Boys were trouble and I didn’t need any more of that.
I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth, worried it as my eyes slanted to the huge plate-glass windows that looked out toward the campus, unable to stop myself from wondering where he’d gone and what would have happened had I taken him up on his offer to hang out with him. I still had no idea how to make sense of him, or what part of him was genuine, if any was at all.
Indy snorted, cutting into my thoughts. “You should see your face right now. Whatever questions are running through that pretty little head of yours”—she leaned over the small, round table, lifted her finger, and circled it around my face—“you’ve got your answer right here, and I’m pretty sure it’s a resounding yes.”
chapter five
Misha
I yanked at the pull-cord of the lawn mower. It sputtered but didn’t turn over. I dug my foot into the ground for leverage, giving it a good pull, a little grunt included. Another sputter.
Grrr . . .
I looked up to the blue sky, praying for some miracle that would bring this piece of junk to life. I sucked in a breath, gripped the handle in my hand, and gave it my all.
Nope.
Nothing.
I kicked the mower with the side of my sneaker. “You dumb piece of junk . . . would you give me a break and work? Come on, please.” My voice lowered to a whispered plea on the last, like I could cajole something inanimate into cooperating. I jerked it, the engine spinning, then chugging as it ran out of steam.
“Damn it,” I cursed under my breath, throwing my hands in the air as I stalked around the overgrown lawn, wondering how in the heck I’d manage to get this impossible chore done using a thirty-year-old machine. I’d take scrubbing toilets over this any day, because me and motors just didn’t seem to mix.
Behind me, the wooden fence that rose around our tiny backyard rattled. Startled, I froze as I felt more than saw the shadow of movement pass behind me.
I tore myself from the shock and twisted to look over my shoulder, gasping when I saw Darryn drop into our yard, landing on his feet, crouched down, one hand propping himself on the ground for balance, like he was humbled in the deepest bow. Slowly he lifted his head as he straightened, looked up at me with those hazel eyes, hard and intense and brimming with concern.
A rush of dizziness swirled through my overheated head, and I figured I was seconds from fainting.
Yep.
Just like I’d thought.
Avenging angel.
I gaped at his glory. Again, the boy-man-god lacked a shirt, his golden chest much too proud to be inhibited by something so ignoble as fabric. His jeans rode low, the cut of his abs so delicious I had the overwhelming urge to taste them. My mouth watered, and I was imagining tracing my tongue over the rock-hard grooves and planes.
“What are you doing?” His voice cut into my daydream, the throaty question filled with disbelief.
My head snapped up. Mortification climbed to my face when I realized I’d been staring. I blinked away the stupor, having no clue what he was talking about until I followed the trail of his attention to the beaten-down pile of junk sitting in the middle of the lawn.
Slowly I untwisted myself from the pretzel I was in, turning to face him, shifting on my feet as I watched him approach the lawn mower as if it were an injured animal.
“Um . . . trying to mow?” I said, the words almost a question as they flowed out with a tilt of my head. I squinted, trying to understand where the overt distress he was wearing like a cloak was coming from.
He settled his long body down to kneel on a single knee next to the mower, studying the motor as if it were alive, and his mouth moved as if he were having some kind of secret conversation with the hunk of metal.
He looked over his shoulder at me, sparkling hazel eyes narrowing in skepticism. “And kicking the crap out of the poor thing is going to help how?”
“Um . . . ,” I stammered again, frowning at how Darryn seemed to be bleeding sympathy for the old equipment that had become the bane of our house. Each of the four of us roommates would gladly pay good money to get out of the weekly mowing job we rotated around on the cleaning schedule, but the problem was that none of us was willing to take money to do it an extra time. “This isn’t my favorite job.”
The sight of the old mower sitting slumped in the middle of the lawn, buried in the too-long blades of grass, seemed proof enough.
He turned back to the mower. Craning his head, he poked around, muttering under his breath, “And what in God’s name are you doing out here trying to mow?” He unscrewed the gas cap, shook it around, looking for the source.
I wrung my hands together. “It’s my chore this week,” I explained, feeling the little flush of a grin come to my mouth with the idea of Darryn in my backyard, all that confusion from last week when I’d seen him in the coffee shop barely registering with the relief at him flying in unannounced and without summons to my rescue. I chewed at my lip, and for a second I decided to give up the war I seemed to fight every time Darryn came into my view, and mumbled quietly, “Thank you for coming to help me.”
“Ha, I’m not here to save you.” He flashed me this brilliant, teasing smile, the one that twisted me all up in knots and tossed me right into an endless, spiraling swoon.
Oh God.
He inclined his head, still grinning. “I’m here to save this poor machine that you’re trying to kill.”
I frowned as my gaze landed on the rusted metal. There was no stopping my light-headed giggle. “I think you’re too late. It’s already dead,” I whispered in feigned mourning, slowly shaking my head with remorse.
Darryn stared up at me, those mischievous eyes glinting as they stepped up to play partner to that delirium-inducing grin.
And I swear to God, I saw them, these little sparks shooting through the air, like darts of energy impaling me all over my sun-drenched skin.
Oh. I kind of jumped. That felt good.
Damn him.
Because there was no denying it. Being around Darryn Wild felt good.
He pulled a wrench from his back pocket, as if this boy-man-god was magic, superpowered with an enchanted bag of tricks always at hand. He held it up, wielding it in my direction. “Oh, I think there’s hope yet.”
He turned away from me and went to work, and I edged in, prompted by the demands of the butterflies in my stomach. I stood over him, probably driving him out of his mind with annoyance as I leaned over his shoulder, watching him. His strong hands were adept and his mi
nd obviously knowledgeable as he tinkered with bolts and wires and little parts that I wouldn’t begin to recognize.
“All this thing needs is a little TLC.” He eyed me seriously. “You can’t just leave stuff like this out to rot. It needs to be maintained. Taken care of.” Then he winked. “The way every girl deserves to be.”
I reddened at his blatant innuendo, chewing a hole in my lip as I turned back to watch him work.
“Ah, there we go,” he mumbled to himself as he seemed to find whatever the problem was. He twisted a couple of wires.
I took a stumbling step back when he suddenly stood, his towering presence too much for me to handle up close like he was. Delight danced all over his face as he wrapped his hand around the handle, his lithe body rippling as he leaned down and cranked it to life. The engine roared.
And we just stood there staring at each other, both of us grinning, me feeling all self-conscious and shy while Darryn was so obviously proud, the air filled with the deafening rumble of the mower and the buildup of the energy sizzling between us.
“Thank you,” I said, the sincere words swallowed up by the loud churn of the mower, though I knew Darryn understood what I’d said.
Slowly he nodded as he seemed to get twisted up in the same tension pounding through my system.
A breeze blew in, stirring through my hair, whipping the thick locks around my face. Tentatively Darryn reached out. His hand hovered in indecision, before he gave in and gathered a thick curl to rub between the pads of his fingers, like he needed to feel the texture and weight of it. All the while, he never looked away from me. And this time . . . this time the softness in his expression, the same look I’d witnessed at the coffee shop, didn’t evaporate in a flash. It wasn’t just a flicker of good that scattered fast to reveal a boy who was so obviously bad.
He shook his head as if he were trying to make sense of something, before he averted his eyes from mine to watch himself tuck the loose strand behind my ear. I shivered when he let his fingertips flutter down the side of my neck, just barely brushing my sensitive skin. He released a ragged exhale when he trailed them lower, across my collarbone to the center of my hammering chest. Fire singed me through with the vibration of his gentle touch.
When We Met Page 3
